Tag: death

RIP four years late, Bradley Allan

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

While scrolling through my phone instead of doing absolutely anything more constructively satisfying, I came across a clip of the 1998 Jackie Chan film, Gorgeous, notable for its incredible fight sequences, namely two fights between “CN” and this foreign fighter brought to HK to humble CN, introduced only as “Alan,” played by Jackie Chan stunt team member, Bradley Allan.

While the video brought back a lot of nostalgia of watching endless hours of kung-fu and martial arts films, I happened to notice a comment in the video that said, RIP Brad Allan.  Naturally, my brow furrowed and my mind went wtf??  Allan was a young guy in 1998, no reason he wouldn’t be alive and thriving just 27 years later, so I looked him up, and sure enough, Bradley Allan passed away in 2021 due to a heart attack, at the not-old age of 48.

This learned knowledge immediately made me very sad.  The fact that I’m even posting about it goes to show just how much I care about this information upon learning about it.

The above scene and quote from Gorgeous is a line that I still use on a fairly regular basis, when I want to no-sell any sort of pain or anxiety that the world tries to inflict on us, because much like Alan does to Jackie in the film, he’s dropped by a haymaker, acknowledges that it was a good hit… but not enough power.  He then proceeds to get back up and whoop Jackie’s ass in front of his adult star love interest, sending his character into a downward spiral of realizing that he works too much and sucks at fighting, and inspiring him to get better.

Metaphorically, and perhaps a little literally, this is what that quote means to me, and when shit is constantly hitting the fan, and I conclude that I don’t want to be defeated, by anything, I simply remind the opposition in my life, not enough power, and do my best to get back up and keep on fighting forward.

But aside from a single line from a single film, the loss of Bradley Allan really is palpable.  A lot of people don’t know who he even was, but aside from a few parts in a handful of films, his work as an action, fight and stunt choreographer was vastly more immense, having been involved in the productions of big name films and series like Avatar, Scott Pilgrim, Wonder Woman, Shang-Chi, and pretty much the entire Kingsman series.

I remember watching Argylle on the last cruise I was on, while mythical wife and I were just lounging in the room relaxing.  I had no idea that he was even involved in it, as the stunt coordinator, and I didn’t even catch in the credits that he is given a dedication, as it was the final film he ever worked on, released long after he had actually passed.

But Father Time is undefeated, and despite living by his quote from Gorgeous, eventually everyone gets hit with something that finally does have enough power.  Happy trails, Bradley Allan, I’m sad to have learned of your passing years late, but I hope you’ve been resting in peace all the same.  

Happy Trails, Mt. Mutombo

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

It might not be one of my most prevalent Dannyhong-isms, like Sonny Chiba, lobsters and truckloads full of food spilling onto Georgia highways, but I’ve always been a big fan of Dikembe Mutombo, and hold him in a similar esteem as I do a lot of the random things that I’m fiercely devoted to.  So to hear about his unfortunate passing at just the age of 58, genuinely, really makes me sad and regardless of the fact that the Braves miraculously managed to eke their way into the playoffs on this bonus day of baseball, I still consider the day completely ruined on the news of Mutombo.

Admittedly, a lot of my earliest fandoms of Dikembe were along the lines of irony and stemmed mostly from the fact that he had a name that sounded silly to my American ears, and teenage me would butcher it in all sorts of ways, but still be picking the Denver Nuggets in NBA Jam, because Mutombo had a max stat in defense, and Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf had a max stat in three-pointers, and they were a way better team than most realized.

But also, being a Georgetown guy, he was somewhat local to where I had grown up, and thanks to the fact that I was a Knicks fan, which meant I was a Patrick Ewing fan, which meant that I knew all about his history, including Georgetown, and along with Alonzo Mourning, I had an interest in him early on.  Among the numerous great stories about Mutombo that will surely bubble up in the wake of his passing, one of the funniest ones will be how he would go into local area bars, and in his big booming, accented voice, query to female patrons, “WHO WANTS TO SEX THE MUTOMBO?”

Irony aside, in 1994 I became an actual fan of Dikembe Mutombo the basketball player, when in the playoffs, he led the #8 seed Denver Nuggets to become the first #8 seed to topple a #1 seed, when they defeated the 64-win Seattle Supersonics in five games.  Seriously, Mutombo’s defense was other-worldly during this series, and he swatted 31 blocks in the five games, which is about a third of what the best defenders in the league were doing in 82.

Rudy Gobert is a stalwart defender today, but Dikembe’s performance in the 94 first round is a true masterclass of defense, and watching a man go from blocking a few shots, to completely rendering an opposing offense petrified of going into the paint, lest Mutombo block another shot or two.  Even beasts like Shawn Kemp and the 6’10 Detlef Schrempf were turned into Muggsy Bogues under the living tree that was Mt. Mutombo guarding the rim.

I’d always followed his career, from where he basically had a second home when he was traded to the Atlanta Hawks, and became a perennial all-star for them, and some more playoff successes, in spite of never winning a championship himself.  And no matter where he landed, I was always willing to cheer for the guy, even when playing for teams like the 76ers, Nets, Rockets and even the Knicks.

However, as incredible of a basketball career Dikembe had, what’s more important is the fact that he will always be remembered as a true humanitarian, who was always at the forefront of NBA charitable initiatives.  The man was always involved in charitable efforts, especially when they pertained to matters in Africa, and the Congo native never, ever missed any chance to give back to his home.  The man basically built a hospital completely out of his own pocket.  He suited up with Hakeem Olajuwon in 2015 to play in the first NBA (exhibition) game in the continent of Africa despite the fact that both were long past their playing days, but it was way too historic and important of a game for them to not participate.

And I can’t talk about Dikembe Mutombo without bringing up his Geico commercial, which is one of the greatest commercials of all time.  Oh, and his partnership with Old Spice, where he was the star of his very own 8-bit video game, Dikembe Mutombo’s 4.5 Weeks to Save the World.

Like a guy like Sonny Chiba was to my life, Dikembe Mutombo wasn’t just a person, a basketball player, a humanitarian, a meme; he was in a way, a way of life.  I’ve always tried to give defense the respect it deserves in sport, and I always put a lot of personal weight in good deeds and humanitarian efforts.  Mutombo’s name is one that’s always at the top of mind when coming up with names for use in video games, trivia names.  His iconic finger wag, and quotes like “NO NO NO” or “NOT IN MY HOUSE” are used without concern or care if anyone knows where they stem from or not.

It’s cliché to say that a piece of one’s self is killed when an important person, place, or thing is ended, but in the case of Dikembe Mutombo, I do feel like a little piece of me, and probably everyone else who thought highly of him, died a little bit today.  But a guy as influential as Dikembe Mutombo was, it should be easy to keep his memory alive, with stuff as simple as finger wags or quotes, of a guy that the world simply did not deserve.

Happy Trails, Walt that doesn’t suck up all my money

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

AP: Walt Ehmer, CEO of Waffle House, dies at the age of 58

I don’t know anything about this man, Walt Ehmer, but I can say that I am a fan of the company that he ran for the last 22 years, and for that reason alone he has my respects and condolences to hear about his passing.  And like the title of this post says, he’s a Walt that hasn’t been hoovering up my money for the last decade, and has in fact, been saving me money conversely with Waffle House’s reasonable prices for unhealthily satisfying garbage food, to which I give the man even more respect for bringing me pound-for-pound happiness that’s hard to match.

It might seem like this is leaning towards being satirical in nature, but the passing of Waffle House’s CEO really is sad news to hear, not just from the standpoint that all loss of life is usually sad, but because I really am a fan of Waffle House, the brand, the company and the product, so it is sad to hear that they lost their commander-in-chief, at such a relatively young age, at just 58 years.

For many years, Jen and I had a Christmas tradition of going to Waffle House on Christmas Day, because I didn’t really want to go home, and we were as close to as family as we had for each other.  I would get a grand slam and a waffle, and for several of those years, I didn’t yet know that I had an intolerance to eggs, and would suffer the consequences of my breakfast choices later, chalking it up solely to being greasy Waffle House, but it never deterred me nor tarnished my opinions of the food in general, and I really enjoyed all those relaxing Christmas mornings of getting Waffle House with one of my closest friends among the other vagabonds who opted to have chill Christmases too.

Waffle House trips were always on the table after drunken Halloween parties, New Years parties or any other social event that ended in later hours where my friends and I would be buzzed, didn’t want the night to end yet, and greasy hashbrowns and waffles sounded like an incredible idea.  No matter how many other people shared the same sentiment and as crowded as they always were, we were never in a position where we had to get turned away or look for somewhere else to go, because we would always be seated, always be served, and no matter how inebriated I might’ve been in any of those visits, I always treated the staff politely and with respect, because there’s more merit to being a happy drunk than an asshole who starts fights.

Which brings us to the obvious cult classic of Waffle House, the knock-down, drag-em-out, World Star battle royales that have occurred at the restaurants since the inception of the company, and long under the guidance of Walt Ehmer as well.  There’s pretty much no such thing as a Waffle House fight that wasn’t viral, wasn’t entertaining in their own ironic way, and wasn’t memorable in some way, shape or fashion.  The fact that a Waffle House Fight™ occurred pretty much every single week somewhere in the vast network of 1,900+ stores across the east coast, and the company just keeps chugging along goes to show the gritty resilience of the brand and company, that I’m not going to just credit Ehmer for, but he had to have known that they were going on, but frankly if he’s as southern educated as a Georgia Tech Trustee chairman would be, knew that if it wasn’t broke, don’t fix it.

I digress, this isn’t supposed to be waxing poetic about how great Waffle House is, but to pay my respects and bid happy trails to the guy that’s been holding the ship steady for a company that has provided such greatness, so that effect, happy trails, Walt, and let’s hope that whomever succeeds you is as successful at not rocking the boat and keeping things status quo as well as you did.

Happy trails, Virgil

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Lonely no more: Mike Jones, better known as former WWE wrestler, Virgil, passes away at the age of 61

I know it seems like every single wrestler from yesteryear that passes away was a favorite of mine in some way shape or fashion, and after twenty years of brogging, there’s no shortage of wrestler eulogies that I’ve written in my own way, at this point.

But Virgil, this guy, was truly a guy that I can’t say was necessarily a favorite of mine, but he was something of an icon in his own way, that I was fixated with, pretty much from the time I learned of his existence until the day he passed.

When I first got into wrestling, a lot of it had to do with the fact that I actually got into a WWF video game first, the arcade version of WWF Superstars, before I actually parlayed it into indulging in the real life variant of the game on television, into the life-long fandom that still maintain today. 

In the game, the final bosses were the tag team of “Million Dollar Man” Ted DiBiase and Andre the Giant; but before you actually started playing against them, there’s like a 12-second cutscene prior to the match where you see “Mean Gene” Okerlund interviewing both DiBiase and Andre, but also standing with them was a jacked black guy in a shiny tuxedo counting money.

When I started watching wrestling, and the first time I laid eyes on the real-life Million Dollar Man, sure enough, there was the same jacked black guy accompanying him, holding the money, and that was when I first learned of the existence of the real-life Virgil.

Little did I know that he was named Virgil, as a personal attack from Vince McMahon to rival promoter/booker/wrestler Dusty Rhodes, whose real name was actually Virgil, and in only a manner that could come from Vince McMahon, he slapped basically a slave persona onto a black man and called him Virgil.

But throughout the years, it became quickly apparent that despite Virgil’s imposing stature and menacing scowl, he was tantamount to the WWF’s punching bag to the stars, and in just a few short years of getting into wrestling, I’d seen Virgil get his ass beat by Hulk Hogan, the Ultimate Warrior, Macho Man Randy Savage, and Hacksaw Jim Duggan among others.  He was a jobber before I even knew what a jobber was, a term I wouldn’t learn until like 12 years later.

Continue reading “Happy trails, Virgil” →

The worst dream of my life

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I don’t think I’m being hyperbolic about it either, because I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream in my life that upon waking up, it reduces me to breaking down into sobbing, I need nearly 30 minutes to bring myself back to earth, and it proceeds to ruin the entire day because I can’t stop thinking about it, and thinking about it fills up the wells again and it’s moar crying all over again.  Telling my wife about it floods the gates one more time, and I can’t even bring myself to write about it until an entire day has passed because it apparently did that much of a number on me.

So yeah, I think it’s pretty safe to say that this was the worst dream I’ve ever had in my entire life.

In a nutshell, I was dying, which I can’t really say has ever really bothered me in the past, but then I had kids, and the number one drawback to no longer living would be the inability to watch and experience their growth and now the thought of death isn’t something to be so ambivalent about anymore.

But in this dream, not only was I dying, I was basically otherwise alive and fine, but facing an impending, for lack of a better term, euthanization.  I had something that was going to definitively kill me, and for whatever reason, it would be best to be put to sleep lest I suffer a gruesome painful demise.  I had a scheduled death date and time in place, and I was basically spending my time in this dream trying to tie up loose ends, and try and make the transition into the world without me in it, as seamless as possible.

Two specific moments stood out the most that I can recall the most, which was a conversation with mythical wife, explaining that after I’m gone, I am fine if she wanted to ever remarry in the future, and obviously to just keep the girls in mind when looking for someone else.  She was more torn up about the conversation we were having than I was, which is probably not necessarily true to reality, seeing as how I probably shed tears way more than she does on the regular.

However that didn’t last long, because it was the other moment that I remember which ultimately ended up being the breaking point in my dream.  I was on my last day, and while walking around the house with my wife further discussing things to keep in mind and things that were settled, I realized that I only had about an hour left before my death appointment, and I proceeded to have a panic attack about why I wasn’t spending this time with my children. 

I frantically ran down the stairs and it was at this point in which I finally woke up.  It was 5:21 am, and I lay there for a few seconds coming to the realiazation that it was all just a dream.  I wasn’t dying, and I wasn’t going to be taken away from my wife and children.  It didn’t matter though, in the seconds that followed, I began openly weeping and the tears came pouring out, fat, hot and wet down my face. 

I couldn’t get back to sleep after a dream like that, so I went downstairs with the dog to take her out early, since she already perked up knowing that I had awoken.  Afterward, I meandered aimlessly downstairs, and gulped down some water since I had woken up with the driest mouth ever afterward.  Must been the blood pressure medication, which did state such could be a side effect; nothing was mentioned about lucid, horrible dreams though.

I sat in the media room in the dark, just replaying the dream in my head, and crying some more.  I clicked on the baby monitor to feel the most immense relief at seeing my two girls peacefully sleeping away in their rooms, knowing that I’d get to see them in just a few hours when they woke up.

Eventually I went back to bed, since rational thinking finally came back to me and I figured it would be best to at least lay down and try to sleep, even if it wouldn’t come, just so I could be warm and comfortable if anything at all.  I don’t remember falling back asleep, but I do remember being awoken by the alarm, that really wasn’t much long afterward.

My day was effectively ruined after that, and I had to make sure I kept my mind on the tasks at hand, because every time my mind wandered back to the dream, I would begin to feel tears welling up again, and crying in the office wasn’t something that I really wanted to have happen.

Point is, it’s not a difficult reach to say that this really was the worst dream that I’ve ever had in my life.  It’s like I can’t call it a nightmare, because there wasn’t anything unrealistically frightening, aside from the ability to schedule a voluntary euthanization, but the scenario of being a situation where I couldn’t see my kids ever again is something that could very well happen, and that alone puts the fear of god into me like nothing else.

Happy Trails, Bob and Arleen

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Talk about an absolutely brutal week as far as fandoms, nostalgia and symbols of millennial childhood go.  Wrestling fans had to endure the passing of a legend, and a sudden departure of a star that wasn’t anywhere near the heights he was destined for, but then fans of the same television I grew up watching had to bear witness as a legend passed, and an icon that defined basically an entire television series.

I don’t particularly have a ton to say about Bob Barker or Arleen Sorkin, at least nothing new from one of the many countless tributes on the internet there are for either of them, but it hit me enough in the feels when both of them left us to where I still feel like at the very least, documenting it in my own brog to try and emphasize at the very least, my appreciation for them and what they did.

Obviously, at 99 years of age, it’s easy to say that Bob Barker did not leave us to soon, and he most definitely lived a full and successful life and career.  Cue the bittersweet jokes about how if anyone was going to ace the big wheel game of getting as close to 100 without going over, it’s Bob Barker.

But like many, the OG Price Is Right was the show that we all watched when we were home sick from school, or over summer vacations, because at least where I grew up, it was always on at 11 am, obviously not a time in which we could watch it at school.  But Bob Barker’s talent was so effortlessly immense that it didn’t matter if you were nine years old, 29 years old, 59 years old or 79 years old, his delivery, his smooth on-screen charisma and charm made him watchable, made him entertaining and made the show the legendary program it was, all because of him.

I always enjoyed watching the show, playing along with the showcase, screaming at the television when contestants didn’t ever seem to realize that the items on the show were always marked up 5000% and undershot their estimates, and of course loved Plinko.

Drew Carey’s variant of the show is garbage in comparison, and as far as I’m concerned, the show ended when Bob Barker retired.  There was once an incident where a contestant hit the nail on the head in the final showdown at the end of the show, and Drew Carey immediately deadpanned him and killed the episode, because he thought that the guy must have been cheating; most everyone was quick to point out that if that had happened under Bob Barker’s watch, he would have sold it like the greatest achievement of mankind, and made it into a memorable event. 

There are just some things that can never be replaced, and Bob Barker is most definitely one of them.  The show is better off discontinuing, than to let Drew Carey sink the prestige and equity that Bob built with his legendary run.

Continue reading “Happy Trails, Bob and Arleen” →

Happy Trails, Windham Rotunda

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Talk about a brutal week for the wrestling business; losing a genuine icon, legend and forefather of the industry on one day, and then losing one of the most captivating and yet to be fully untapped stars of today, very much in the category of having gone way too soon, in Windham Rotunda, whom most people know primarily as Bray Wyatt.

I’m very deliberate in using his real name over Bray Wyatt, because with no disrespect to the the departed, I can’t say that I was really ever that big of a fan of Bray Wyatt.  The whole supernatural character is something that I’m clearly not in the right demographic to really be a fan of.  And as much as I did like the originality and intrigue he brought to the table earlier in his run as Bray Wyatt, I do think his whole character evolution went from weird to progressively weirder and more bizarre, and not in good ways either.

I loved the whole creepy southern gothic cult leader of the original Bray Wyatt persona, but then that it literally killed by Randy Orton in storyline.  The eventual return of the split personality, super-positive and cheerful Bray Wyatt compared to the emergence of the demonic Fiend started off well enough in my opinion, but when he started up with brainwashing Alexa Bliss and being basically unkillable against Seth Rollins but then getting squashed by fucking Goldberg, I was kind of losing my shine to the character as a whole.  Ironically, this too was killed by Randy Orton in storyline.

Which brings us to his final incarnation and last stint with the company, kind of this strange amalgamation of Bray Wyatt who is kind of good, but kind of dark, with the Field still lurking around, but then the introduction of Uncle Howdy, and I’m just kind of like wtf is all this bullshit now.  At this point, I was no longer a fan of the Bray Wyatt universe, and I likened him to being like, Randy Orton, as in a guy whom with once you get tangled up with in storyline, you’re stuck with it for like 3-5 months of having to play scared patron to a haunted house, and barely a professional wrestler anymore.

It was actually during his feud with LA Knight, that I realized that I was starting to become impressed with LA Knight, seeing as how his whole tenure prior, ol’ Eli Drake wasn’t impressing me at all, but while feuding with Bray Wyatt, I found LA Knight to be a shining beacon of charisma and promo school, and even though he was getting his ass kicked and having creepy shit thrown at his character for three months, he was absolutely killing it on the mic, and even though he lost the feud, he clearly won over a lot of fans, seeing as how over he is with the WWE Universe currently.

I just felt that Bray Wyatt was a character that was clearly not geared for people my old age, and is clearly meant to capture the imaginations of those who are in “the demos” that the professional wrestling industry tries their hardest to cater to, children, and the vaunted 18-35 male range.  Aside from such, I just felt that a supernatural character is among the hardest characters to write and book for, especially when you exist in a universe with MMA converts, European wrestling purists and a Samoan dynasty running roughshod through the rest of the company.

Continue reading “Happy Trails, Windham Rotunda” →