The Way I See It
In this Way I See It, I marvel at someone else’s accomplishment, uncharacteristically shed a tear, pontificate on some libertarian talking points, and offer counseling services.
Aaron Judge has done it. He has set the American League record for HRs in a season after swatting his 62nd homer against the Rangers. Judge surpasses fellow Yankee Roger Maris, who had 61 homers in 1961.
The National League record for home runs in a single season is 73, held by Barry Bonds. Mark McGwire (70, 65) and Sammy Sosa (66, 65, 63) are the only other player to have topped Judge’s total of 62.
Of course, many baseball fans discount the records of Bonds, McGwire and Sosa due to admitted (McGwire) or heavily suspected (Bonds, Sosa) steroid use. Regardless of your stand on the PED issue, Judge set the record legitimately and can be proud of his accomplishment.
Sayonara soshite Arigato, Inoki-san
Ever hear of Antonio Inoki? Inoki was one of three iconic pro wrestlers in Japanese history. Inoki and Giant Baba (another of the three icons) were both proteges of Rikidozan, the most iconic and legendary figure in Japanese pro wrestling.
I won’t bore you with Inoki’s accomplishments as a wrestler and promoter. However, Inoki was much more than just a wrestler and promoter. Inoki’s popularity was such that he was twice elected to Japan’s Parliament.
Inoki also saw himself as a one-man diplomatic corps. He was responsible for securing the release of 42 Japanese hostages from Saddam Hussein. Inoki also tried to warm relations with North Korea, visiting the country 32 times between 1995 – 2007. On one occasion, Inoki booked a wrestling card in North Korea, the main event being Inoki vs. Ric Flair. He truly lived up to his goal “to establish peace through sports diplomacy.”
To most Americans, Inoki was best known for his fight against Muhammad Ali in 1976. In what was a precursor to current MMA fights, Ali (boxing) and Inoki (pro wrestling) fought to a draw. Inoki spent the whole fight on his back, throwing a total of 107 kicks that landed almost exclusively to Ali’s left leg, while Ali managed to land just two jabs on Inoki. The damage to Ali’s leg was so bad, that there were concerns after the fight that Ali might have to have his leg amputated.
Bonus nugget: the referee of that fight was none other than “Judo” Gene LeBell. LaBell is widely considered to have fought the first MMA match in the U.S. when he took on boxer Milo Savage in 1963.
RIP Antonio Inoki.
Phoenix Suns (and the WNBA Mercury) owner Robert Sarver was essentially forced to sell his team by the NBA. This was the result of a lengthy investigation that concluded Sarver was (in my words) a racist, abusive asshole.
Now, you might point out that the actual punishment meted out to Sarver was a one-year suspension; and you’d be correct. But the reality is that Adam Silver, the NBA commissioner, convinced Sarver that selling his teams would be in the best interests of all involved parties.
What I’m about to say will offend many of you, so I guess I’m lucky that I don’t care about your feelings. It’s Sarver’s team, he has the right to run it any way he sees fit. Is he abusive towards his staff and players? Perhaps. If he is, players who have options will choose to play elsewhere. Is he a racist? Perhaps. If he is, good luck trying to win a chip by attracting untalented white free agents. You get my point. The free market does a great job of punishing racist assholes by hitting them where it hurts the most: their bottom line.
Instead, by forcing Sarver to unload his team, the NBA is begging for unintended consequences. For example, it is being reported that the Suns will likely fetch a price of nearly $4 billion. That would be the highest price ever paid for an NBA team, surpassing the $2.35 billion Joe Tsai paid for the Brooklyn Nets in 2019.
In other words, as a direct result of the NBA meddling in what should be a free market, a racist asshole stands to potentially turn $400 million (his cost for buying the Suns) into $4 billion.
Well played, NBA.
In what can only be described as something for me to mock, Tom Brady and Gisele Bündchen are reportedly getting ready to divorce.
You have to understand something about me. I really don’t care about other people’s lives. I don’t know who is currently banging Kim Kardashian or any other such nonsense. But Brady is different. As a good New Yorker, the very sight of Brady being happy in life makes me sick. I hope Brady and his seven rings wake up every morning to face the daily drudgery every other mortal on the planet faces. The only way this could be more fun for me would be if we find out that Brady has a bad case of chlamydia.
As for Gisele, I never understood what the big fuss was about. I’ve never found her attractive. She seems rather annoying. Always seems to have a scowl on her face. That nose makes me think she should be cast as Murray the Cop in any Odd Couple reboot. I guess I’m saying I doubt that she’s actually a supermodel. I once had the privilege of standing two feet from Elle Macpherson; now she was a supermodel. Flawless in every respect, cute Australian accent, and constantly smiling.
The bar for what constitutes a “10” on my scale was set that evening, and no one I’ve seen since has come close to being a 10. Not Giselle, not my wife, not any of the random THOTs on Instagram.
So.. yeah. Nothing but subdued joy at the Brady Bunch drama from me. As I said earlier, it’s a good thing I don’t care about your feelings.
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