And the team’s new linebacker and team captain punched out the Houston Texans.
With the Texans threatening to score in the final minutes of the opener, Landman showed an artisan’s touch by separating the ball from a Texan running back’s grip and forcing a fumble that was recovered by lineman Braden Fiske.
The play all but sealed the Rams’ 14-9 season-opening victory before 71,346 at SoFi Stadium.
“It means so much,” said Landman, who played three seasons for the Atlanta Falcons before signing a one-year contract with the Rams. “You work, you work, you work, for that moment to happen there, and for that moment to come to fruition and expose itself is really great.”
Landman was one of several key players for a defense that limited the Texans to three field goals.
Cornerback Cobie Durant intercepted a pass, edge rusher Byron Young, lineman Tyler Davis and safety Jaylen McCollough recorded sacks and Fiske made a spectacular play to recover Dare Ogunbowale’s fumble after Landman punched it out.
Those efforts made it easier for an offense that will need some fine-tuning to live up to its hype.
“Landman making that punch out was so cool,” quarterback Matthew Stafford said.
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1.Rams tight end Davis Allen (87) celebrates with teammates after making a touchdown catch.2.Rams safety Jaylen McCollough celebrates during the first half.3.Rams running back Kyren Williams tries to evade Houston Texans defenders.4.Quarterback Matthew Stafford celebrates the Rams’ win.5.Houston cornerback Derek Stingley Jr. pushes Rams wide receiver Jordan Whittington out of bounds in the second quarter.(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Stafford, in his 17th NFL season, did not commit a turnover while etching his name deeper into the NFL record book. He completed 21 of 29 passes for 245 yards and a touchdown, and became only the 10th player to pass for more than 60,000 yards.
After sitting out all of training camp and several weeks of preseason practices because of a back issue, his ability to start and finish the game was a victory unto itself.
Receiver Puka Nacua also showed characteristic grit and toughness. Despite suffering an injury that required stitches in his head, Nacua caught 10 passes for 130 yards. Receiver Davante Adams caught four passes for 51 yards in his Rams debut.
Running back Kyren Williams rushed for a touchdown and tight end Davis Allen caught a touchdown pass as the Rams improved to 7-2 in openers under ninth-year coach Sean McVay.
“Our guys found a way,” McVay said of his team’s overall effort, “and that’s what it’s about.”
Sunday’s game marked the start of the Rams’ 10th season in Los Angeles since returning from St. Louis.
And the defense’s performance, save for an untimely penalty or two, rated a near 10.
Rams coach Sean McVay shares a hand slap with wide receiver Puka Nacua during the Rams’ season-opening win.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
The Rams’ offense managed only Williams’ touchdown in the first half. Meanwhile, Ka’imi Fairbairn kicked three field goals to give the Texans a 9-7 lead.
But the Rams appeared to come out with a different attitude in the second half.
Stafford’s passes to Adams and Xavier Smith set up Allen’s touchdown catch that gave the Rams the lead, and they appeared on their way to increasing their advantage when they drove to the Texans’ 12-yard line with just over four minutes left.
But tight end Colby Parkinson fumbled after a short reception, putting the onus on the Rams defense.
When quarterback C.J. Stroud’s third-down pass fell incomplete, the Rams looked like they were on the verge of victory. But a roughing-the-passer penalty against lineman Kobie Turner kept the drive alive.
Stroud completed a pass to Ogunbowale, and on the next play they connected for another. But this time Landman punched the ball out of Ogunbowale’s grip.
McVay was not surprised.
Landman, who forced three fumbles in each of the previous two seasons, has had more punchouts in practice than any other player,” McVay said.
“He has just a great feel for it,” McVay said, “so he’s intentional, and I think it’s rubbed off on the rest of the group. And he got it at a critical time. You talk about competitive greatness — that was on display.”
Stafford’s 24-yard pass to Nacua in the final minute sealed the victory.
“That’s complementary football, right?” Stafford said. “That’s, ‘Hey, we make a mistake, defense comes out and makes a play for us. Hey, you know what, we aren’t going to put you back out on the field defense, we’re going to close this thing out taking a knee.’
“Those are things you can build on.”
The Rams play the Tennessee Titans and the defending Super Bowl-champion Philadelphia Eagles on the road the next two weeks.
“The sky’s the limit for this defense,” Landman said. “You see the guys we have up front, the pressure we’re able to create on the quarterback.
“And you pair that with the coverage behind it — it’s a lot to look forward to this year.”
Late night has a new tone in 2025, and Greg Gutfeld is the one setting it, one unpredictable quip at a time. Rewriting the rules and bringing his signature acerbic style to “Gutfeld!” on Fox News, his show is drawing in more than 3 million viewers nightly, making it the most-watched show at the edge of prime time at 10 p.m. Eastern time / 7 p.m. Pacific time, airing over 90 minutes earlier than such hosts as Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon
Stacking up gigs, he’s also the resident wild card on the network’s hit show “The Five,” and he hosts the new reality game show “What Did I Miss?” on Fox Nation, which was just renewed for a second season. Gutfeld isn’t just leaving his mark on the network; he’s reshaping it.
Before he became polarizing to some, and well before his New York Times bestsellers and his night of reminiscing on Jimmy Fallon’s couch, Gutfeld was climbing the editorial ranks at magazines like Men’s Health, Stuff and Maxim. His biggest break came when he landed the very late slot hosting his own Fox News show, “Red Eye,” which would set the stage for his runaway success.
Taking nothing too serious while being surrounded by complete seriousness, and with “Gutfeld!” pulling in some of the strongest ratings on TV, he’s proving that irreverence can be its own kind of relevance. His refusal to put so-called untouchables on a pedestal has everyone taking notice, and like him, loathe him or don’t know what to think about a grown man obsessed with unicorns, there’s no denying that Gutfeld has turned having a good time into a full-time job. And he’s just getting warmed up.
How do you find out you’re No. 1in the 10 p.m. timeslot? Is there a cake and a massive check?
It’s more brought to you and then happens over time. I get ratings every single day, so I was able to watch us win. I guess I wasn’t that surprised by it; I just knew that it was going to take time. I thought, yeah, maybe in a couple of years, but it was in like a matter of months.
For old–school fans of “Red Eye,” “Gutfeld!” feels familiar, with the blended panel that’s always down to have a good time. But now everyone gets more comfortable chairs, which is nice too.
I agree. “Gutfeld!” is basically “Red Eye” but for everybody. Red Eye was operating on the assumption that you really had a select group of people awake at 2 or 3 in the morning. It wasn’t trying to be a cultlike pleasure; it just happened to be that way. We did want it to be for everyone, though. Now we have 10 times the viewers and we’re No. 1, so in my mind I’m going, I want the same sensibility, but I don’t want to completely confuse the viewers. I realize that my humor on “Red Eye” was deliberately obtuse in some ways, and not really deliberately. It was just surreal and bizarre, and maybe that won’t fly in prime time or late night, but like “Red Eye,” our show now is as interesting and unpredictable as that show was. And that’s 90% of the fight.
There’s definitely an unpredictability theme going on because “The Five” can get somewhat fiery at times, but not for the reasons one would think.
With “Gutfeld!” and with “The Five,” I really push the concept of teasing, because when I genuinely like somebody, I tease them. When everybody is together teasing each other, it’s a very fun thing and the viewers are in on it. On “Red Eye,” we were all basically roasting each other, and on my show, we’re all making fun of each other, some more than others. On “The Five,” of course, I needle Dana [Perino] and Jesse [Watters], they needle me, I go after Jessica [Tarlov], she makes fun of us all — we all do it, and I think that’s really the secret sauce to the success of “The Five,” “Gutfeld!” and why “Red Eye” was so beloved. You felt like you were with the people. It was like a perverted version of “Friends.”
There really is this vibe that, no matter what gets said, when the camera goes off you’re all knocking back a few together.
Yeah, I think the key is that nothing you say should warrant an apology. Meaning, if I were to insult you, you’re not going to demand an apology from me. When somebody wants an apology for a comment I always ask them, “How would that apology sound? I’m sorry that the jokes I made hurt your feelings?” How insulting is that to that person you’re apologizing to! I’m sorry I hurt your feelings with this insult. It’s like the people that are demanding an apology don’t even see how absolutely insulting it is that they are asking for it.
Some people really write their own headlines. I imagine yours ramped up after you took “The King of Late Night” joke and ran with it?
I’m trying to think where “the king” came from, and I think I have to credit Dave Rubin. I think Rubin was on during the first week of the show and said something like, “You’re going to be the king of late night. You’re going to be No. 1.” I don’t like saying stuff like that because then it’ll just be thrown back in your face, but he was right! Then, of course, I had to put it on my book cover. I don’t even know how that all happened, but putting it on the cover of my book was just, like, this audacious and ridiculous thing, having me on the top like I’m a skyscraper where King Kong swatted down people.
Silly is definitely your lane. What do you think the term “late night” even means anymore? It used to be pretty neutral, and now it’s almost like you better choose a side before you watch this comic make their TV debut!
Yeah, it kind of became defined as maybe a person who wanted to go to bed angry with somebody who wanted to go to bed happy. One thing that I always want to do is not send people to bed enraged. Sure, maybe you’re sad that Biden lost, but we’re going to have so much fun, and this is going to be great! And then Trump wins. This is going to be so much fun, and this is going to be great! So, we’re going to have fun, and things are going to be great no matter who wins or loses. I’m not going to let that impact the time that we have. I think doing a late-night show that makes everyone feel bad is a disservice. I don’t understand that. That’s when you have people switching the channel to come to us. They didn’t even know that we existed until then.
What a shakeup that channel flip caused and, also, it’s pretty monumental because the viewers are staying.
You know, for a long time they couldn’t even mention my name and it was a personal thing for them, but then I think they realized that all I did was point out what was missing. I mean, they gave me the opportunity by not addressing most of the country, and it was there for the taking. There was literally free money on the table, and so I took it, and I showed [mainstream media] that they don’t own the culture. I think it’s not just about late night; it’s about all of culture. It’s the ability to tell people, you aren’t the cool kids at the table anymore. You took people for granted, you insulted everybody else, and we’re the ones now who are having fun.
Seeing you on Fallon also looked like a lot of fun. You could seriously feel your excitement as you told him your drunken story of meeting him. You think he’d ever come on ”Gutfeld!”?
It was fun! It went the way I think we both wanted it to go, which was like an old-school TV segment you would have seen on Carson. Just two people having a fun conversation. I probably talked too much, but I had to tell that drinking story because I’ve been telling that story for years, and the only person I hadn’t told that to was Jimmy. So yeah, we were both happy about it, and it’s good to see two industry people in whatever “supposed rivalry” who genuinely like each other without that other bull—. I haven’t asked him to come on, though. Our show is a little different because if you come on, you’re on for the whole hour. You’re also on with other people so it’s kind of a bigger ask of someone, but the president did do it so…
A DARTS match ended in bizarre fashion when a player accidentally injured himself on live TV.
The Modus Super Series International Pairs matchup between Wales and South Africa had fans in disbelief when one player pretended to punch another, only for it to inadvertently end in injury.
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Devon Peterson playfully pretended to punch Richie Burnett after Wales got the better of South Africa in the Modus Super Series International PairsCredit: X @MSSdarts
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Burnett pretended to go flying from the punchCredit: X @MSSdarts
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The Welshman accidentally banged his head on a nearby TV in the processCredit: X @MSSdarts
The tie, which was being played between Richie Burnett and Kurt Parry of Wales and Carl Gabriel and Devon Peterson of South Africa, ended in a 4-1 victory for the Welshmen.
And after a sensational 112 checkout from Parry to earn the victory, Peterson playfully pretended to punch Burnett for getting the better of him and his teammate.
Burnett, 58, tried to play along with the friendly playfighting by pretending to go flying as a result of the punch.
But his overenthusiastic reaction ended up leaving him with a real-life bump on the head, after he crashed into a TV in the corner of the room.
Fortunately Burnett seemed absolutely fine, giving his head a rub and laughing off the gaffe.
Fans loved the unusually hilarious moment and reacted on social media.
One labelled it as the “funniest end to a darts match ever.”
While another wrote: “We need Richie on the TV box more often”.
A day after losing the cornerstone of their offensive line, the mood around the Chargers’ training facility remained the same — somber.
“It’s like a gut punch into the solar plexus — takes the wind out of you,” coach Jim Harbaugh said. “Don’t really have the words or am able to think about anything else. Man, just feel bad.”
It was the first day of moving forward with a new-look offensive line after learning Rashawn Slater ruptured his patellar tendon — an injury that will require him to undergo season-ending surgery.
Even with the need to move forward, Slater remained on everyone’s mind. Harbaugh said he was confident Slater would overcome the setback.
“I also know how he’ll attack the rehab and train, and he’ll be back,” Harbaugh said. “Not this season, but I know he’ll be back.”
For Joe Alt — the other half of one of the best offensive tackle duos in the NFL — it was difficult to accept that the man who mentored him during his rookie season last year would not be playing in 2025.
“I’m praying for him,” Alt said. “I know what he’s going to do. I know he’s going to recover and he’s going to attack it and be back better than ever.”
The mindset in the offensive line room has shifted with Slater out. They are determined to stay focused on honoring him through their play.
“We’re brothers,” Alt said. “Yes, one fell down, and the goal is to play as well as five is one, and the only way we can do that is by moving forward and playing the best we can, to do what he would want us to do.”
Trey Pipkins III, who has moved into a potential starting role at right tackle because of the injury, said he spoke with Slater, whose “spirits are as good as they can be,” adding Slater was “joking around a little.”
Slater’s absence presents an opportunity for Pipkins, who is in the final year of his contract and returning to a position he played for his first five seasons before a brief shift to guard last season.
While Harbaugh said nothing is set, Pipkins — who started at right tackle in both 2022 and 2023 — will get the first look at the spot. Jamaree Salyer, who Harbaugh praised for a strong showing throughout camp, also could challenge for the starting role.
For now, the offensive line consists of Alt moving to left tackle, Zion Johnson at right guard, Bradley Bozeman at center, Mekhi Becton at left guard and Pipkins at right tackle, according to Harbaugh.
With the loss of depth on the offensive line, the team plans to explore the free-agent market and expects to bring in players for workouts Saturday before the preseason game against the New Orleans Saints on Sunday.
Najee Harris’ status remains unclear
A potential return timeline for running back Najee Harris, who has been on the non-football injury/illness list since a July 4 fireworks incident, remains unclear.
Harris began walking laps at practice on Aug. 2, wearing a helmet with a visor and cleats, but has yet to progress further in his recovery. Harbaugh remained vague about when Harris might practice or play for the Chargers.
When asked if Harris would be ready for the Chargers’ season opener against the Kansas City Chiefs in Brazil — which Harris’ agent, Doug Hendrickson, said he expects — Harbaugh replied, “There is a chance.”
Like with most player injury updates, Harbaugh deferred to his lack of medical expertise when asked if the injury was still just “superficial,” as first reported, or something more serious.
Two days ago, Harris posted a photo on Snapchat showing his left eye completely shut, captioned: “WE AT IT.”
“I don’t comment on it because I am not a doctor,” Harbaugh said. “I’m not Mr. Harris’ agent, either. I’m talking about what I know, and can he open his eye? Yeah. I’ve looked into his eye.”
It’s another dry, sweltering morning in Las Vegas, and the guitarist Zoltan Bathory has just left his Gothic castle. Bearded and dressed in black, with a bundle of dreadlocks piled high on his head, he’s now piloting a small boat across a man-made lake filled with tap water, on his way to breakfast at a nearby café.
The newly renovated replica castle is a recent project and perk of Bathory’s 20-year career as guitarist and founder of the multiplatinum heavy metal band Five Finger Death Punch. But last year, as the metal act began planning to celebrate those two decades of action, Bathory discovered that their longtime former label, Prospect Park, had quietly sold the masters to the first seven 5FDP albums.
The group, which retained 50% ownership in the masters but not “administrative rights,” was not informed before the sale.
“We were not privy to the deal. It was completely behind curtains. That’s the annoying part of this,” says Bathory. “I wish they had a conversation because we could have done a deal together, or maybe we would have bought it. We didn’t even get an option. We found out from somebody else. Well, wait a minute, what’s going on?”
With that anniversary coming up in 2025, 5FDP adjusted after finding inspiration in the example of pop superstar Taylor Swift, who responded to the sale of her catalog with a hugely successful series of “Taylor’s Version” rerecordings of entire albums. Swift re-created four of her records, each one topping the Billboard Top 200, before she finally bought back the rights to her catalog this year.
Five Finger Death Punch decided to follow that lead, and in January began rerecording the band’s most popular songs. The first batch of new recordings arrived under the title “20 Years of Five Finger Death Punch — Best of Volume 1,” released Friday, to be followed by “Best of Volume 2” later this year.
“When this happened, it came up immediately: ‘Well, this happened to Taylor and what did she do?’” Bathory says of the plan. “She battle-tested it. And she’s a big artist. ‘OK, that’s your move? Now this is our move.’”
It is just the latest chapter in a sometimes turbulent career for the musicians, as the band rose to become one of the most successful hard rock/metal bands of their generation, boasting 12 billion streams, surpassed only by Metallica and AC/DC. During its first decade, 5FDP released four platinum-selling albums in the U.S., beginning with its second release, 2009’s explosive “War Is the Answer.”
The unexpected sale of their masters — to the independent music publisher Spirit Music Group — was perhaps the final round in a frequently contentious relationship with Prospect Park founder Jeff Kwatinetz. In 2016, the label sued Five Finger Death Punch in Los Angeles Superior Court, alleging breach of contract over a coming greatest hits package and the recording of a new album.
That lawsuit got ugly, including an accusation in its initial filing that the band was “attempting to cash in before the anticipated downfall of their addicted bandmate,” a blunt reference to singer Ivan L. Moody’s period of self-destruction at the time. The band countersued. The cases were settled out of court the following year.
A request for comment sent to Kwatinetz through his attorney was not returned by press time, but he told Billboard last month that the band’s current management stopped cooperating, so “I sold my half.”
As he settles into the small lakeside café over a glass of organic matcha tea and avocado toast, Bathory expresses little real anger over the suits and the sale, and looks back cheerfully at the band’s long relationship with the label. The guitarist says he actually enjoyed their heated discussions, reflecting not only their conflicts of the moment, but a shared history as the band rose from clubs on the Sunset Strip to stadiums around the world.
“With our former label president, this is probably the funniest relationship. In the past, we were suing each other for various [issues],” Bathory says with a smile. “We get on the phone, and we’re talking about a lawsuit, and he’s like, ‘You guys lost this injunction.’ And I’m like, ‘Oh, f— you.’ ‘Oh, f— you!’ We had this back and forth, and then it’s ‘How’s the kids?’ And then we just talk about albums and music and whatnot for like an hour.
“And then, ‘OK, see you in court.’ ‘F— you,’” he adds with a laugh. “It’s a game of life. And I believe in the way of the samurai. The saddest day in the samurai’s life is when your worst opponent dies, because that’s the guy who kept you on your toes.”
Sessions for the new recordings unfolded quickly from 5FDP’s current lineup that also includes baseball bat-wielding singer Moody, longtime bassist Chris Kael, and two newer members, drummer Charlie Engen and lead guitarist Andy James.
The musicians recorded their parts separately, re-creating songs some of them had by now performed live nearly 1,000 times around the world. The resulting tracks are not exact replicas of the originals, but are faithful to their spirit while leaving room for the natural evolution that happens through years of touring.
The result on “Best of Volume 1” is a potent representation of the band’s history, opening with the snarling riffs of “Under and Over It.” The first volume includes 13 rerecordings and three live tracks. When played side-by-side with the originals, the new self-produced songs never sound like tired retreads but are powered by some contemporary fire in the band’s performances.
The first public glimpse in the project was a rerecording of “I Refuse,” a power ballad from 2018, this time as a duet with Maria Brink (of In This Moment), released as a single in May.
Once news of the project, and its inspiration, began to spread, Five Finger Death Punch began to hear from a new constituency: Swifties.
“What’s kind of crazy is that I see Taylor Swift’s fans on our social media and bulletin board going, ‘Yeah!’ That’s the most bizarre thing,” Bathory says of the new voices cheering the band forward. “We are so far away from each other in style. But it seems like it hit a chord. I guess people who don’t necessarily understand or are privy to the music business and how it works still feel like this is not right.”
While the band is also six songs into recording its next album of new material, Bathory says the new best-of recordings are expected to be fully embraced by the band’s famously intense following.
“Our fans are pretty hardcore,” Bathory says. “They’re very engaged, and they know exactly why we did this. So I think, just to support the band, they will switch [their allegiance to the newer versions] anyway. But these recordings are going to live next to each other.”
Founded in 2005, Five Finger Death Punch was the culmination of the rock star dreams of Bathory that began as teen in Hungary, first as a fan of British punk rock, before turning to metal after discovering Iron Maiden (with early singer Paul Di’Anno). He built his own electric guitar to look like one used by the L.A. heavy metal band W.A.S.P., with a skull-and-crossbones painted onto the surface.
Rock music wasn’t played on TV or the radio in the then-communist country, so Bathory and his friends traded cassette tapes of any punk and metal they got their hands on. “Somebody always somehow smuggled in a record, and we would all copy it,” he remembers. “It created this subculture where we didn’t just look at it as music. It was the sound of the rebellion.”
Bathory also dressed the part, drawing attention for his Def Leppard T-shirt with the Union Jack flag, studded leather jackets and belts, and long hair. Kids who adopted that look and spoke in the language of Western hard rock actually risked arrest, he says.
“I’ve been chased around by the cops so many times,” he recalls with a laugh.
By his early 20s, Bathory moved to New York City with his guitar, about $1,000 in his pocket, and no English-speaking skills. While living in low-budget squalor, he slowly taught himself English, first by translating a random copy of the Stephen King novella “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption.” He played with bands that got nowhere, and after six years relocated to Los Angeles, and things started to change.
For a year, he played bass in the L.A. hard rock band U.P.O., which enjoyed some chart success, then formed Five Finger Death Punch, with a name inspired by the 1972 kung fu film “Five Fingers of Death” and Quentin Tarantino’s two “Kill Bill” epics.
Zoltan Bathory, founder and guitarist of the heavy metal band Five Finger Death Punch, pilots a small boat on the man-made lake outside his Las Vegas house.
(Steve Appleford)
“I knew exactly what I wanted. There was a vision,” says Bathory.
That vision got clearer when he first saw singer Moody performing with the nu metal band Motograter. It was Bathory’s good fortune that Motograter would soon break up. He reached out to Moody in Denver.
“He was special — his performance, his voice. That star quality thing is a real thing,” notes Bathory of the growling, emotional singer. “You could tell he was a rock star, right? I’m like, OK, that’s the guy.”
In their first years as a band, the quintet played more than 200 shows annually. “We played every little stage that exists,” Bathory says.
Sitting beside the guitarist now in the café is Jackie Kajzer, also known as radio DJ Full Metal Jackie, who first spotted the band on MySpace. She soon caught an early set at the Whisky a Go Go and was immediately sold on their sound and potential. She was also a junior manager at the Firm, a leading management company at the time representing Korn, Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park.
Kajzer urged the company to sign the ominously-named Five Finger Death Punch, and after two showcase performances on the Strip, it did. The metal band was soon added to the side stage of the high-profile 2007 Family Values Tour, followed the next year by the traveling Mayhem Festival, leaving a powerful impression among new fans and fellow artists.
“When you find something that makes you feel something, it makes it worth fighting for,” says Kajzer, who has remained part of the band’s management team ever since, now at 10th Street Entertainment. “I had never felt it before. PS: I’ve never really felt that again, that same early feeling. You believe in it and you want to shake everyone else and make them get it as well.”
Five Finger Death Punch’s recording career began by uploading a few songs at a time — early versions of “Bleeding,” “Salvation,” and “The Way of The Fist” — to MySpace, then an essential platform for new acts, or what Bathory now remembers with a laugh as “the center of the universe.”
“It was extremely hard, but in the beginning we knew we had something because there was this instant interaction,” Bathory says of fan response. “We were all in bands before — many, many bands. We all recognized that, OK, there’s something different here. We didn’t have to convince people. It just started happening and it was growing really fast.”
Zoltan Bathory, stands beneath a Turkish lamp in his Las Vegas house.
(Steve Appleford)
“The ones that make it, they’re here for decade after decade,” he says of the larger metal scene, which enjoys a seemingly eternal audience. “The family [of fans] is extremely loyal and they’re there forever. Once you’re in, you’re in.”
The band’s first album, 2007’s “The Way of the Fist,” was largely recorded in Bathory’s apartment near the Sunset Strip. It reached halfway up the Billboard Top 200 album chart and eventually went gold, with 500,000 copies sold. While even greater success follower, there has also been the usual ups and downs in the life of a metal band, with group members coming and going, troubles with substance abuse, and arguments over creative choices.
After two decades together, the singer and the guitarist have survived.
“It’s still a tornado. It’s a band, a bunch of guys, so I don’t think it’s ever going to change. We built this freaking thing like it was a battleship,” says Bathory with a grin, sitting in the castle beneath an ornate Turkish lamp.
“It’s always going to be that we fight and argue, but at the end of the day, we always figure things out. We always climb the next mountain.”
They pull giant boxing gloves over aging, sometimes shaking hands.
They approach a black punching bag on weary, sometimes wobbly feet.
Then they wail.
Lord, do they wail.
They hit the bag with a left-handed jab, a right-handed reverse, a hook, another hook, an uppercut, another jab, bam, bam, bam.
They end the flurry with kicks, side kicks, thrust kicks, wild kicks, their legs suddenly strong and purposeful and fueled by a strength that once seemed impossible.
Outside of this small gym in a nondescript office park in Monrovia, they are elderly people dealing with the motion-melting nightmare that is Parkinson’s disease.
But inside the walls of Kaizen Martial Arts & Fitness, in a program known as Kaizen Kinetics, they are heavyweight champs.
Ranging in age from 50 to 90, spanning the spectrum of swift strides to wheelchairs, they are the most courageous athletes I’ve met.
They show up here every couple of days hoping that they’ll move enough to keep the evil Parky at bay. They’re trying to punch him out, kick him off, scare him away, and they’ll endure more than an hour of sometimes painful exercise to make this happen.
They are frail women screaming, “Jab!” and shaky men screaming, “Hook!” and everyone counting with clenched teeth through 75 minutes that stretch the shrinking muscles and test the weary optimism.
Bill Plaschke participates in a boxing class for people with Parkinson’s disease at Kaizen Martial Arts Studio.
(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
I am in awe of them, perhaps because I am one of them.
I, too, am living with Parkinson’s disease.
The irony, huh? I’ve spent my entire career writing triumphant stories about athletes overcoming illness and adversity, only to reach the home stretch struggling to find a similar triumph in a story about me.
It’s not easy. Now I know what all those subjects of all those feel-good stories understood about the truth behind my positive prose. Degenerative disease sucks beyond any inspirational adjective. Incurable illness stinks beyond any hopeful headline.
I’ve got Parkinson’s, and it hurts to even say it. I’m still mobile, still active, I don’t have the trademark tremors that distinguish the famously afflicted Michael J. Fox or the late Muhammad Ali but, damn it, I’ve got it.
I was diagnosed four years ago after complaining of weakness in my right arm. That weakness has disappeared, but it’s a constant struggle to keep everything else from slowly going to hell.
Every day it feels like I’ve just run a marathon. I move well, my balance is fine, but I’m always tight, always creaking. The amount of medication required to keep me active is so immense, my pills come in gallon jugs and I spend entire Dodger games trying to discreetly swallow them in the press box.
I move slower now. My fiancee Roxana qualifies for sainthood because whenever we go out, she must patiently wait for me to get dressed, which takes forever and is accompanied by the unholy sounds of struggle.
I don’t smile as much now. It’s harder to smile when afflicted with the trademark Parkinson’s masked face. When I FaceTime with my darling Daisy, I worry she won’t see past my dour expression and never know how much her granddaddy loves her.
Until now, my condition has only been known to my family. Not even my bosses knew. I didn’t look like Parky, I didn’t act like Parky, so why should I publicly reveal something so personal and embarrassing?
Yeah, I was embarrassed. I felt humiliated in a way that made no sense and total sense. To me, Parkinson’s implies frailty, Parkinson’s implies weakness.
But let me tell you, a 72-year-old woman pounding the living hell out of a punching bag ain’t weak.
And that’s why I’m writing about this today.
If my boxing classmates can have the strength to sweat through their tremors and wallop through their fears, then I can certainly have the strength to celebrate them without worrying what sort of light it casts on me.
I’m proud to be one of them, and the purpose of this column is to reflect that pride and perhaps make it easier for other folks afflicted with Parkinson’s to come out swinging.
Alan Shankin is assisted by Azusa Pacific University physical therapy student Desiree Alvarado as he participates in a boxing class for people with Parkinson’s disease at Kaizen Martial Arts Studio.
(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
Officially, Parkinson’s is a neurodegenerative disease impacting both motor and non-motor systems. Translated, the brain slowly stops producing dopamine, which is crucial for movement, and the loss of this neuro-transmitter affects everything from your stride to your speech.
Roughly one million people in the United States have it, and there’s no cure for it, and it generally gets worse as one gets older. As Michael J. Fox himself once said, it’s the gift that keeps on taking.
You don’t die from it, but it can be hard to live with it, yet there is one thing that unquestionably helps slow its progression.
Exercise. Movement. Pull your achy body off the couch every day and work those quivering muscles, stretch those tight joints, perhaps join one of the many Parkinson’s programs in town that involve everything from dancing to hiking.
“For people living with Parkinson’s disease, regular exercise can reduce symptoms, help treatments work better and potentially even slow the disease progression,” Rachel Dolhun, principal medical advisor at the Michael J. Fox Foundation, wrote in an e-mail. “For some, exercise can look like participating in boxing classes. For others, it’s water aerobics, dancing or playing pickleball. Just remember that any type of and amount of exercise can positively support your journey.”
If you’re like me and you just want to punch Parky in the face, boxing works best. The 83 tough souls who t pay $179 a month to battle in the Kaizen Kinetics program agree.
“I hit the bag really hard like I’m hitting Parkinson’s,” said Rich Pumilia, 66, a lawyer from Monrovia. “Hitting it back for what it’s doing to me.”
I became aware of Jody Hould’s program, which she leads with the help of husband Tom, son Zac and Anthony Rutherford, shortly after I was diagnosed. I kept seeing their pamphlets in doctors offices and rehab centers. At the time, they were part of the popular Parkinson’s-battling Rock Steady Boxing program that has several locations through southern California. By the time I worked up the courage to fully face my illness and call the number on the pamphlet two years ago, Kaizen had become an independent program with a similar focus on boxing.
”Boxing is balancing, posture, turning, pivoting, extension, range of motion, using your core, everything that’s important to fighting the disease,” said Hould, who started the program nine years ago in memory of her late mother, Julie, who died of complications from Parkinson’s. “Plus, it’s fun to punch something.”
Hould and her team run a fast-moving program, barking out a series of punches and kicks while offering gentle reminders to those who hook when they should jab.
“Parkinson’s doesn’t take any vacations, it doesn’t take any days off, we have to be on top of our game, we have to be proactive in our fight,” Hould said. “Not only is it good for the spirit, it’s good for the mind.”
But it can be tough on the ego, as I quickly learned when a frail white-haired woman out-punched me one day while screaming at the bag. Another time an aging man with tremors and shuffled steps pounded the bag so hard it skidded into my feet.
I once showed up with a cut on my left hand and informed Hould that I would not be boxing that day.
“You still have your right hand, don’t you?” she said. “So you box one-handed.”
Bill Plaschke, right, and Paul Tellstrom team up during a boxing class for people with Parkinson’s disease at Kaizen Martial Arts Studio.
(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
The 75-minute sessions are hard. Every exercise and maneuver are seemingly designed to do something I now have difficulty doing. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes you want to be anywhere else.
But it works. It can’t kill Parky, but it can quiet him. Hould never promises a cure, but she sees some relief in those who join the battle. There was one boxer who eventually abandoned her walker. Others have seen a reduction in their tremors. Throughout the windowless gym there is real hope that this disease can be slowed.
Pumilia is convinced his condition has improved after attending classes for eight weeks.
“When I was diagnosed, my doctor said you have five good years left before your life is going to be impacted,” said Pumilia. “Now my doctor is basically saying, ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep doing it.’”
Sharon Michaud, 65, a retired insurance executive who has also come to class for eight years, agrees.
“Without a doubt, it’s helped me,” said Michaud, who is noticeable in the class because she moves like a gymnast. “With Parkinson’s it’s easy to get into a funk and get depressed. You come here and it’s nice to know there are other people like you. I’m amazed more people don’t know there’s places like this out here.”
Maybe this story will shed some light on that. Maybe this story will inform a closeted Parkinson’s patient about programs like Kaizen Kinetics and empower them to pick up the phone and join.
If you decide to come to Monrovia, I’ll be the breathless guy in the back still unable to deliver a knockout punch but continually inspired by fellow fighters to keep trading blows with my hardest of truths.
I leave that gym sweaty and sore but uplifted with the reminder that I am blessed to still lead a wonderful active life filled with family and friends and work and travel and so, so much hope.
I have Parkinson’s. But, by God, it doesn’t have me.
There was pure joy as Canon King ran toward his Venice High teammates standing outside the dugout after touching home plate to complete a home run. He launched a group chest bump with Dylan Johnson, who went tumbling through the dirt like a kid playing in a sandbox.
“This feels great,” King said later. “We’ve worked so hard for four years.”
Venice (27-2) is tantalizingly close to earning a trip to Dodger Stadium to play for the City Section Open Division baseball championship. The Gondoliers play Sylmar at 6 p.m. Tuesday at Cal State Northridge in the semifinals. The other matchup as part of a doubleheader has El Camino Real facing Birmingham at 3 p.m.
In many ways, these two games impose far more pressure on players than reaching the championship game, because each player so badly wants to make it to Dodger Stadium to fulfill dreams of a lifetime.
“It’s magical,” King said.
To see King’s smile and excitement last week after hitting his sixth home run in a 4-1 playoff win over Chatsworth offered a hint of his value and importance to a surging Gondoliers team. He’s a three-time Western League MVP.
He’s committed to Cal State San Marcos, has gotten all A’s for four years on his report card except for one B in chemistry freshman year and one B in AP Spanish. He’s a born leader and “loves” being named Canon by his father, a high school teacher and former amateur rapper whose best friend had Canon as his last name.
“The energy is infectious,” he said of the team’s success. “It’s all coming together. Our team chemistry has been high. Our practices have been so productive.”
Canon King of Venice hit his sixth home run last week against Chasworth.
(Craig Weston)
Coach Kevin Brockway has 16 seniors on the roster. The Gondoliers haven’t won an upper division championship since 1972 and are trying to follow the same improbable path as last year’s champion, Bell, which hadn’t been to a final since 1953.
Venice was given the No. 1 seed even though El Camino Real and Birmingham came from the stronger West Valley League. But the Gondoliers went 18-0 in the Western League and have the defensive prowess to do well, with a solid catcher in Charlie Nisbet, a dependable shortstop in Daniel Quiroz and King in center field.
Sylmar, the Valley Mission League champion, went to Dodger Stadium two years ago for the Division I championship game. Pitcher Alex Martinez remembers starting at third base as a freshman.
“It’s crazy,” he said of the atmosphere. “Overwhelming for sure. It looks different, even when the ball is up in the air. It blends in.”
He threw a shutout last week in Sylmar’s Open Division win over Cleveland. Coach Ray Rivera has come to rely on him as a pitcher and hitter.
“He trusts me with the ball and in special situations,” Martinez said.
He thinks the Spartans are coming into Tuesday’s game feeling good about themselves.
“This team is special this year,” he said. “This team can beat anyone if we play our game.”
Venice knows the challenge ahead, first having to get past Sylmar, then one of the two West Valley League powers, El Camino Real or Birmingham.
Whatever happens, King is ready, though he’s thankful the games are 6 p.m. on Tuesday and 1 p.m. on Saturday. The Gondoliers don’t do well with morning games.
“We’re notorious for Saturday morning games,” he said.
He’ll get everyone to go to bed early the night before. None of them will sleep well anyway thinking of the possibilities.
“Surreal,” is how King put it if the Gondoliers can make it to Dodger Stadium on Saturday.
