Tag: reminiscing

Dad Brog (#150): Next stop, kindergarten

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I blinked a few times, and now my eldest daughter has graduated pre-K, and is en route to starting kindergarten the next school year.  I still have a hard time digesting that, considering that the last five years have soared by, where my kids were born the generation of COVID babies, and the world has gone through a whole lot of hoopla to get to where we are today.

Like, it didn’t feel that surreal when #1 began 2K and went onto 3K while #2 started a year later, but more recently, it dawned on me when I went to the last Friday sing-along of the year, that this was also the final Friday sing-along for #1 outright.  Very soon, the school year was going to come to a close, and all the classmates she’s mostly had over the last three years, almost all of them are going their separate ways, since being a private pre-K, kids are from all over the place, and despite the fact that this school is zoned for a specific elementary school, almost none of them will actually be going there.

Obviously, #1 doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that she’s not going to be seeing a lot of her classmates again with any regularity very soon, and instead it’s me the parent that feels sentimental for her that she’s not going to be seeing her friends, some of whom she’s grown quite close with over the years, and we as the parents can all tell each other that this doesn’t have to be the end, but much like our own adult relationships, it basically is.

Such is the relentless passage of time and the journey of life, and my first kid has completed one of the first stages of life, being preschool.  She’s a whip-sharp, intelligent and observant kid, that has a beautiful imagination, loves to draw and paint, and I’m often floored at the academic development she’s shown over the last three years of preschool, and it’s going to be all sorts of emo-dad emotions in the future to see what she does next, starting elementary school.

As most parents aside from myself probably opine at similar circumstances, I just can’t believe that time has flown so fast, and I’ve already got a kindergartener on deck.  Aside from the financial alleviation of having one less kid in a private pre-K, it’s going to be exciting to see what lies ahead in the future as #1 takes the step into the next stage of life, entering contemporary education.

Cute, but not accurate

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

OutKick: Tampa Bay Rays have their first rain delay in the franchise’s history, commemorative ponchos handed out to all 17 of their fans in attendance

I haven’t written much about baseball this season, but then again, I don’t really feel like I’ve written that much over the last few weeks but I digress.  But because a hurricane obliterated Tropicana Field, the dump of a venue that housed the Tampa Bay Rays, the team had been forced to play the entirety of their home games in the 2025 season, at of all places, the Yankees’ Spring Training facilities, Steinbrenner Field.

That being said, seeing as how the Trop was an indoor ballpark, and Steinbrenner Field is very much outdoor, it’s actually kind of amazing that it’s taken this long for the weather to come into play in Florida of all places, and the Rays to deal with a rain delay.  But for all intents and purposes, the franchise has declared it as the first rain delay in Rays history, and to commemorate the tongue-in-cheek occasion, all 17 fans in attendance were given commemorative ponchos, which is actually kind of cool and definitely clutch because rain at pretty much any other ballpark in the country is an instant cash-grab for the venues to be able to hawk overpriced trashbags and umbrellas on the bad luck of those not prepared for potential rain.

However, I’m going to piss on this little parade and go all well actually, because not only was this not the first time a Rays game has been delayed on account of the rain, I can actually say that I was there when it had happened.

It was in 2009, when I was still freelancing, and was having kind of a chill summer vacation on account of being in between assignments and coasting off of a giant payday I made from a project I had completed earlier in the year.  I had money, I had time, I had my Delta flight benefits, and I didn’t want to let the entire summer go by without capitalizing on my advantages at being able to tackle some baseball parks on my quest to visit all 30.

I got to Tampa Bay and basically went straight to the Trop since I didn’t have any time to tourist around like I normally like to do on my baseball trips.  I lucked into a paper World Series of a pitching matchup between Roy Halladay, then with the Blue Jays, and David Price, when he was still the man in St. Pete’s.  Long story short, the game went about six innings of a matchup as good as it was on paper, but unbeknownst to me, the skies had opened up and it was absolutely pouring outside the ceiling of the dome above me.

And then suddenly, there was an announcement over the PA system, and security started going onto the field, and players started coming off of it.  Apparently, on account of the weather, there was a power outage somewhere in the Trop, and despite the fact that nobody could tell where it was, the ballpark felt it prudent to stop the game until the technical difficulties could be resolved.

Despite the fact that the baseball game was being played indoors, the rain had affected something mechanically in the venue, and the venue chose to halt the game in order to fix it.  And there we have it, a rain delay – at an indoor park.

I have no idea if this was the first time that such had happened, but I’m going to assume probably not.  But the point remains is that just because rain isn’t pouring all over the players and fans doesn’t mean that a rain delay couldn’t not happen.  Perhaps if the Rays commemorated something not named the first-ever rain delay, it would be more accurate, but as cheeky as this little “celebration” was, it was very much not accurate.

I know this for fact, because I was there when it happened before, almost 15 years ago.  Shit, Jerome.

Astoria, Oregon and the birthday bucket list trip

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I could easily say that probably for half my life, I’ve always wanted to visit Astoria, Oregon, most prominently known as the prime filming location for one of my all-time favorite films ever, The Goonies.  But seeing as how I live in the southeastern United States, and Astoria is about as far northwestern as they come save for the state of Washington, such has always been somewhat of a logistical challenge.

Adding to the difficulty is the fact that frankly among the people in my life, nobody else has been interested in making this trip.  Mythical wife, nobody in my family, or any of my friends, really has had any desire to go to Oregon, much less Astoria, the small coastal town that’s 90 minutes away from Portland, the closest major airport to get there.  I almost managed to talk several of my friends into it a long time ago when a brother of mine got married in Olympia, Washington, but most of us got so smashed at the reception that we were too hung over to make the daytrip the following day.

So I decided that for my birthday this year, I was going to stop hoping other people would try and wow me with things that I don’t even know would do the job, and to just do something for myself, instead of having another birthday where I end up feeling droll and melancholy when the day winds down.  I decided to make the trip I’ve wanted to make basically my entire adult life, by myself.  I wouldn’t have to inconvenience anyone to make a trip they’re not fully in on with me, and I wouldn’t have to feel bad about any traveling companions’ feelings or preferences that might alter my own.

Months ago, I began my planning, and started making bookings in Oregon; where I was staying, a rental car, and booking an actual flight instead of trying to play the standby game for a trip that I really had my heart set on.  Originally, I had the idea of making the trip on my actual birthday weekend, but it just so happened that my birthday collided with Wrestlemania, and of all the things that could make me want to postpone, that was adequate enough. 

It was kind of surreal when my actual birthday came and went, and I was suddenly closing in on the trip that was definitely a bucket list trip for me.  It was finally happening, I was finally going to get to go to Astoria, and do the whole Goonies thing; see the Walsh home, which I had innately watched throughout the years go from being owned by a tyrant who hated Goonies fans, tarping up the whole place, to being flipped to a Goonies fan, who not only welcomed the fandom, has apparently made it a mission to restore the house to its 1985 camera-ready 80’s-tastic aesthetic. 

Go to the Astoria County Jail which is now the Oregon Film Museum, see the ORV that was always parked out front, and make the journey down to Cannon Beach, to see Haystack Rock, where the opening and closing scenes of the film took place.  And of course, while I’d be there, do some other, non-Goonies/film things like see the Astoria Column, the Astoria-Megler Bridge, and seek out new food and try local beers.

So I’m writing this while sitting in the terminal at PDX waiting for my redeye flight back to Atlanta, and I can say that by and large, the trip was a great success.  I got to do and see all the things that I had wanted to see, and although the weather was a bit on the nippy side while I was here, I planned for it adequately enough and it did not have much bearing on my experience.  I saw pretty much all of Astoria, which isn’t saying a tremendous amount as it is not a very large town by any stretch of the imagination, and there were times where I was like, well what now? because I had accomplished all of the few things I had wanted to accomplish, so I found solace in coffee, beer, relaxation in my hotel room with an entertaining book.

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The expansions of Erris Irand wounds my soul

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Look, I know and understand that the point of any business is to grow, improve, and make money.  And I genuinely am happy for ellis island • casino • hotel • brewery for continuing to grow, presumably making more money and gaining success and foothold in the crowded Las Vegas ecosphere, but this is definitely one of those old man, it’s straying away from the charming little shithole I once knew and loved things going on, and every time I check in with what I endearingly have always referred to Erris Irand, things continue to change and stray further and further away from Erris Irand and becoming a more, miniaturized little posh typical Vegas casino with less and less character and personality with each change.

It recently came to my attention that Erris Irand is embarking on another round of upgrades, and although I’m amused that they along with other businesses I remember fondly like Battista’s are suing the shit out of F1 for wrecking shop in the city I used to once really really love, and went to at least 2-3 times a year, it adds to the melancholy mood of things changing yet again, furthering it from the specific place that I would say that nobody loved more than my big orange brother and I did.

The photos they used was deceptive in making it look like there was the possibility of upward expansion, as in building a tower on top of the existing structure, but that’s just a silhouette of the hotel behind them that I frankly don’t remember what it was called or is called now.  But that’s the only real relief I get is knowing that they’re not going to (yet) turn into some posh, metrosexual named joint, much like Imperiar Parace and Bill’s and O’Shea have all done over the last decade or so.

And although the proposed upgrades are all purposeful, and will undoubtedly help boost business, revenue and general success for the business as a whole, it’s just so, so far gone past the little locals shithole that I first really discovered back in like 2006, that it wounds me in the soul to see just how much things have changed throughout the passage of time.

Like, when I first stepped into the place, the floors were hard oiled concrete, decades of cigarette ash, spilled booze and the dreams of degenerate gamblers ground into them by the footsteps of ornery locals, adventurous travelers and, degenerate gamblers.  The sirloin special was $6.99 and came with a $5 match play coupon for table games.  Metro Pizza was buy one get one on Sundays, applicable to a single slice or an entire pie.  Their excellent house beer was a dollar a pint, if you weren’t actively gambling, and that’s if the cougar-ey bartender even bothered to take it.  There were only a handful of table games, roulette was almost never going, and they barely had enough room for a half craps table, where there’s nowhere in the city where I fared better at, earning so much in one session that I was able to get a brand new replica wrestling blet.

For years, there wasn’t a single trip to Vegas without at least one trip to Erris Irand, where I ate well, gambled well, drank well, and spent many great hours with my brother and whichever of my friends could lower their noses to realize the charm of what Erris Irand was and represented.

Frankly, I’m the only person I know that has actually stayed in the attached Sleazy Super 8 motel, twice in fact, and I have no regrets in doing such.  From what I understand, it’s now not even a Super 8 brand, and is actually branded to the casino itself.

But as is the case, no good things truly last forever, and perception is the eye of the beholder, and as much as good is what the business perceived, the change was not good to me, but like I said, I understand the business aspect, and growth and expansion and change is inevitable in successful operations, and such was the case with Erris Irand.

The BBQ restaurant grew and blew up, the sportsbook turned into a respectable setup that wasn’t just a bunch of 19” screens inside of basically cubicles.  The brewery was opened up to the public, and more tables and more slots entered the establishment.  The floors were eventually cleaned and refinished and tiled, and the dim smoky ceiling lights were replaced with actual bright and welcoming lighting.

My last time at Erris Irand wasn’t that long ago, and after a few trips where mythical wife and my friends had no interest in going, I was by myself on this trip, and I literally took an Uber directly from McCarran to Erris Irand, because nothing was going to stop me from visiting my old friend on this trip.

And it was a surreal experience walking into the side entrance, where everything was different, the air didn’t reek as much of smoke.  The bathrooms were all posh and even had branded wallpaper and backdrops, inviting people to take selfies and be shitty millennials and shitty Gen-Z’ers.  The restaurant was without all the framed artwork of warships and pirate ships and infernos, and I had to wait an inconvenient amount of time for a shift change to occur despite the restaurant being kind of empty.

The sirloin special was still unlisted and available, but it was apparent that the kitchen isn’t used to making these as they once did, as my steak came out overcooked, but not inedible, but the magic wasn’t really there this time around.  The table limits were still fortunately lower than the rest of the Strip, but I didn’t have the time on this trip to come back despite the fact that I really wanted to, with my friend who had just gotten hitched by Elvis.

But now we’re deviating even further from that, with the next wave of expansions to implement rooftop access, so people can presumably look at the Total Rewards Group’s parking lot and training facility, unless there’s plans for something to take up the giant concrete lot between Koval and Audrie, for Erris Irand visitors to stare at being constructed over the next few years alternatively.

Like I said, a lot of old man things changing rambling going on here, so I’m going to stop here before I continue to write in circles like I tend to do sometimes about the things I’m passionate about.  I won’t not go to Erris Irand the next time my travels actually take me out to Vegas again, but honestly I’m kind of over the city as a whole lately, and I just don’t have the disposable funds available to finance the gambling I’d like to do, so it might be a while, but I imagine it’ll be yet another surreal experience of seeing just how much the place has changed. 

Here’s hoping they’ll still have the sirloin special and the best hefeweizen when that time comes, and that I don’t go broke in an hour like the rest of the Strip’s casinos had done to me my last time out there.

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.

Thoughts on my first MLW show

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

As the consummate pro wrestling hipster that tends to favor indy and smaller promotions when it comes to watching wrestling live, when MLW announced they were making a stop in Atlanta, and at Center Stage theater no less, my absolute favorite venue to watch wrestling at, I was excited when I got some of my boys together to go watch.

Despite knowing of their existence, some of the notable names to have emerged from them, and their general hierarchy in the power rankings of professional wrestling promotions, I’d never actually been to an MLW show before.  In the past, I just wasn’t that interested, and perhaps I didn’t respect them enough, but as my general appreciation for indy and smaller promotions has grown, I was looking forward to giving them a shot.

After all, they still managed to command Center Stage, a venue historic in the annals of wrestling promotion, having hosted everyone at some point, from the NWA, WCW, ECW to smaller rackets like NXT, TNA and GCW, so it should be a considered a rub in the positive direction if MLW could promote at Center Stage.

And leading up to the event, the card was coming together to be somewhat respectable, with noteworthy names and matches assembling, featuring guys like Matt Riddle, Kenta, TJP, Satoshi Kojima and PWI’s #10 wrestler* Mistico among others; but I obviously preface with that “on paper” disclaimer, because when it comes to smaller promotions, historically a lot of workers tend to work down to the level of their show, and I’ve been disappointed more often than not when it comes to actual performing.

*I say this dripping with sarcasm, because as decent of a worker he is, Mistico is definitely no top-10 wrestler, and I feel that he’s the equivalent of a DEI inclusion onto the list, solely to represent both lucha libre and a smaller promotion like MLW

What we were unaware of, was the fact that this was a double-taping, with MLW taping some online show called Pit Fighters, where supposedly every match was some gimmick, revolving around “X region of the world” and “deathmatch” and we were exposed to this really hackneyed card of matches where it would be a Tae Kwon Do match, a boxing vs. BJJ match where Donovan Dijak interfered and rescued the segment, and in one Taipei Death Match, which was surprisingly brutal, to where I was hollering that this was a snuff film, it actually featured a worker that was actually Korean in Ikuro Kwon, whom I had to look up as actually being born in Korea, so that’s actually kind of cool.

But all in all, Pit Fighters was a real chore to sit through, and I kind of felt bad for the friends of mine whom I roped into coming with me, having to sit through the bullshit, but fortunately things picked up a little bit, when we got to the actual live-airing of the MLW FIghtland show that we had originally expected the whole thing to be.

However, much like I had pointed out, despite some of the matches on the card sounding pretty decent, it overall was kind of meh.  Kenta and TJP had an okay match, but nowhere near as good as they’ve gone up against each other in NJPW, Dijak and Timothy Thatcher also was better when they faced off in NXT, and I don’t even really remember many of the other matches at this point, it was such a forgettable card.

The one thing that really made me want to write about this though, was throughout the whole night of taping,** there was one group that kept showing up through the night, which consisted of Bobby Fish, CW Anderson, Brock Anderson and this kid I’d never heard of before in BRG – Brett Ryan Gosselin.

**it should also be pointed out that the taping I think was done out of order, so the Pit Fighters that taped before Fightland, was actually intended to air after Fightland, so there was some wonky narratives going on

And they would proceed to declare themselves “The Rogue Horsemen,” and I’m not so certain that I wasn’t the only person in the theater to audibly groan at such a grasp at relevancy, and one my friends and I kept saying and agreeing that it was the saddest looking stable we’d ever seen in our lives.

So this kid, BRG, I can respect the showmanship and the B+ charisma he has on the mic, but he’s basically a Temu version of MJF, which is funny because so many people have called MJF a Wish version of The Miz, but regardless, BRG’s schtick just seems so regurgitated and he relies too much on cheap heat and calling the audience idiots, so I guess he’s exactly where he belongs in a 4th-5th tier promotion like MLW.

In all fairness, I like Bobby Fish, but the man is not getting any younger, and the numerous injuries he piled up in his later years in NXT as well as AEW have definitely taken their toll on him, but the man really is a tag team guy, that even in a small pond like MLW probably won’t be able to handle the toll of singles.

CW Anderson, I was actually surprised to hear and see him come out, because the last time I had seen him was in like 2019 at a really raw indy show in rural Virginia, where he wrestled The Hurricane in a high school gym.  But the man literally debuted in ECW in 1999, and he looked 40 then, which means he’s actually held up pretty well to only look 60 now.

But he’s teamed up with Brock Anderson, the son of Arn Anderson, in the obvious designated tag team of the stable.  The thing is with Brock is that despite being Arn’s son, he apparently got none of his dad’s talent, and Brock looks like a guy that’s in wrestling because plan A didn’t work, but neither did plans B through F, and he’s in the business pretty much out of no better options and that his dad’s name gives him the foot into any door.  He’s out of shape and poorly trained, and it was no more evident in his talent level than when The Andersons had a tag match, it was ancient CW who started the match instead of the younger Brock.

Honestly, the most memorable things that happened in the night for me, were an appearance by Ernest “the Cat” Miller who hilarious did absolutely nothing at all when he served as a special guest scorekeeper in whatever convoluted wrestling/jiu-jitsu match that Matt Riddle was in.  Also, JBL showed up during the Andersons’ match against the Bomaye Fight Club, dropped their big guy with a short-arm Clothesline From Hell, and whispered something to Brock Anderson, which I’m hoping is not a precursor for him eventually jumping ship to the WWE, especially since Arn is back in their good graces, but it was cool to see JBL continuing his random appearing in various other promotions as of late.

Overall, being two consecutive shows in one night, the whole experience dragged on quite a bit, due to the general mediocrity of the talent.  The show started late, at like 7:20, and didn’t end up ending for about four hours, and by the end of the show, my friends and I were pretty exhausted and ready to get the fuck out of the city.

Bottom line is that if MLW comes through Atlanta again, I’ll either go by myself, or take a pass.  I’m glad I went just to experience it and learn more about what an MLW show is like, but like I said, I don’t think it’s something I need to do again any time soon.

Thoughts about the supposed Goonies 2

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

It’s hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t these days, and what’s declared to be real actually remaining real after a little bit of time, but for better or worse, at the time I’m writing this, it sounds like a 40-years later The Goonies sequel is really going to be happening.

My knee-jerk reaction is basically oh god please no whyyyyyy because I really wish Hollywood could leave things that are dead and resting, dead and resting, but seeing as how it seems like allowing The Goonies to have that privilege is coming off the table, might as well allow the ball to continue to roll and brog about it, since it’s evident that this has been on my mind over the last few days while I’ve been waiting for the smoke to clear on whether it’s legit or not, as well as trying to carve time out to write.

Needless to say, I’m not that thrilled with one of my legitimate all-time favorite stories of my childhood being drug out of the 80s just to capitalize on the low-hanging fruit of nostalgia, but what can I say, money is what makes the world go round.  And as Cobra Kai has proven, not every instance of a nostalgia-driven encore is entirely turrible, and although the likelihood isn’t high, I can only hope for the best as far as it concerns The Goonies.

Frankly, if this was ever going to happen, I feel like they’re 10-15 years too late, especially considering the fact that the intention seemed to always have been to bring back as much of the original cast as possible.  All of the OG cast at this point are all too fucking old to be parents to the next generation of Goonies, and they’re at this weird transitional age where they’re too old to be parents to kids but rather teens that are probably older than the original crew, but also a little too young to convincingly be grandparents to the next generation.

But push comes to shove, I’m going to have to assume that the children’s cast of this supposed sequel are probably all going to be the grandchildren of the original Goonies; Josh Brolin is 56 and Sean Astin is 53, and neither are going to convince anyone that they’re any younger than that, so as much as television and film likes to try to convince us that 30 year olds can portray teenagers with attitude, I think it’s probably best to age them up and make them grandparents instead.

Which would probably help to make more plausible the inevitable casting of minorities in the next generation of Goonies, because in the DEI world we live in now, it goes without saying that the next generation is guaranteed to not be a white boys + Data group, and is definitely going to be a little more colorfully diverse by the time this film comes supposedly drops in 2026 or so.

That being said, let’s hypothesize the next generation of The Goonies, apples to apples, because I think it’s obvious that it’s got to be the descendants of the original crew that will comprise the kids’ cast.

  • Mikey will be represented by his granddaughter to be the leader of The New Goonies™; naïve and adventurous, and willing to believe in the remnants of One Eyed Willy’s treasure in the caves.
  • Brand will have married a black woman after Andi dumps him after high school, and their biracial daughter will then have married a black man, and therefore can cast a black male actor to be the descendant of Brand. He will naturally be the muscle and the big brother of the crew.
  • Chunk’s (despite the fact that Jeff Cohen lost all his chunk and is rather fit these days) grandson will be the most likely original Chunk, as in be a chubby Jewish boy who will somehow end up in a Hawaiian shirt and plaid pants, and act as the primary comic relief because it’s funny because he’s fat.
  • Mouth’s grandson will probably be ambiguously biracial, and I foresee someone looking like the next generation’s Mario Lopez will be playing this role. He will undoubtedly be as snarky and blabbermouthed as his grandfather.
  • Data being pretty traditionally Chinese despite the fact that Ke Huy Quan is from Vietnam, will have a granddaughter representing his role, and although she won’t have the trench coat or the backpack full of gadgets and crowd-control inventions, will still be the techie brains of the crew who will probably be good at MacGuyvering shit for the team when they need it.
  • And because the white quotient is starting to get outnumbered, Andi will have a cute granddaughter that probably will look like Sabrina Carpenter taking her place in the next generation, so that Brand can have a potential romantic interest, as well as giving the next generation of young boys something to be confused about through their own respective adolescences.
  • Which brings us to Stef, whom Martha Plimpton has accepted with grace as being the “last” one, will undoubtedly have had an adopted son/grandson, probably white, so that white people still have a slim majority in representation because that’s how Hollywood be, will resume Stef’s legacy of being the tail end of the team, and to provide as much contribution as his grandmother.

As for the actual plot of this film, who really knows what it’s going to be about.  If Chris Columbus and Richard Donner couldn’t figure something out throughout the last 30 years of Donner’s life, I don’t have much faith that anyone else is going to have any better ideas, but it really doesn’t matter. 

If this is going to work, it’s going to have to take place in Astoria, it’s going to have to involve the remains of One Eyed Willy’s treasure, because everyone knows at the end of the OG, the Inferno sails away into the Pacific Northwest, so I’m going to guess that there’s still caches of treasures in the remains of the caves, or perhaps additional ships that The New Goonies can go search for, but as long as the spirit of the film doesn’t stray too far from the original, it stands to believe that this might be able to be as popular with the next generation of kids as the original was to my own childhood.

What kind of irks me though is that I legitimately had plans on saying fuck it, and going to Astoria for my next birthday, by myself, because it’s something that I’ve always wanted to do in my life, and I’m no longer going to expect or even attempt to bring anyone along for the ride, because of people I know, nobody really wants to do this except for me.  Hopefully news of moar Goonies in the future doesn’t re-ignite other OG fans to want to make the same pilgrimage, and ruin my original fandom spurred on by news of a supposed sequel in the works.  Or worse off, by the time I get there, filming has started and I get monstrously cockblocked at seeing all of the original stuff that I had always wanted to see and walk in my own nostalgic life.

Only time will tell, and if any of this shit impacts my future travels, it’s only a question of just how pissed and disappointed it’ll make me.