By MONTE DUTTON

Because I think a lot on weekends …

I suspect many more foreign athletes are limited to a single or nick name – Ichiro, “The Joker,” Ohtani, Pele, et al. — because of a reluctance to pronounce the names. It’s as true of me as broadcasters, but I do have to spell them out in stories.

Fortunately, my favorite baseball player was named Yastrzemski.

I really hate Clemson’s D.J. Uiagalelei transferred, after putting all that effort into getting the spelling down. I also suspect many athletes are referred to by initials for similar reasons, though not Oregon State’s Uiagalelei, who is David John. Lots of high-school kids become Jay, Zay, Tay, Dee, Tee, and Vee. It’s a later incarnation of a time when Latin American baseball players were routinely called “Chico” or “Tito.”

My favorite Formula One name is Valtteri Bottas. I seldom hear American telecasters say a driver “is really getting on nicely.”

Formula One pit stops are so fast I’m surprised the crews don’t change tires with the car still moving. I try not to blink when the technological marvel comes to a stop.

This season Max Verstappen regularly happens. Red Bull literally gives its Formula One team wings.

Meanwhile, in NASCAR, a man born with the best possible stock-car-racing name, William Darrell Wallace Jr., is dismissed, apparently at his own assertion, as “Bubba.”

NASCAR once didn’t race on Sunday nights. Then it held Sunday-night races when Monday was a holiday. Now it runs Sunday-night races whenever possible. What TV apparently wants is awful for fans. Only a young maniac would attend a Sunday-night race and drive home through the night to be at work Monday morning. It’s awful for fans who want to be there, and it’s a reason why most do not.

It was lonely being Austin Hill in the Atlanta Xfinity race on Saturday night. The rest of the contenders treated him like a snake in the grass. John Hunter Nemechek played his cards well. Hill didn’t have any.

My favorite sports name ever was Cecil Fielder because he was also a sessile fielder. My favorite slogan was “Unitas We Stand.”

Atlanta, as best I can determine from the 11 p.m. news, is exceptional in baseball. My analysis is limited by the dastardly Braves blackout. As best I can tell, they hit many 450-foot homers.

In old movies, all the vehicles have bench seats, which I have scientifically determined is because almost all vehicles in real life had bench seats. Most drivers open the passenger door and slide across to get under the steering wheel. How did they go anywhere without cup holders?

Also, newspapers look like pup tents compared to the overgrown legal pads of today. Before long, papers will be downloaded via QR Code, and the stories will be generated by AI, with headlines such as “Prayers Flood In for Onetime Middle School Legend” … who is now 88.

Are clotheslines still legal? I know the tackles aren’t.

I haven’t been much of a fan of boxing since Muhammad Ali lost his faculties. It’s because his faculties had been so great.

I’d love for you to purchase the softcover edition of my baseball novel, The Latter Days, for a mere $11.99, but I’d also love for you to read it on your “device” for a mere $2.99. Worth a shot, don’t you think? You can find most of my books at MonteDutton.net. If you’d like to donate to the coverage here, send a check to DHK Sports, P.O. Box 768, Clinton, S.C.  29325 or become a patron of the site and, by extension, me.