#９３ なぁぁぁんにも面白くない

The Chunichi Dragons' "Ultimate Motivator" Request

The episode opened with an anonymous listener letter. The writer had discovered Nagano through a YouTube video on the channel Ota Ueda (太田上田) — recommended by their younger sibling — and described the encounter as "lightning striking my heart." A Chunichi Dragons fan from Nagoya, they argued that the team desperately needs Nagano's "passion as the streaming king and cry of the soul," and asked him to become their motivator. They had been following his activities closely and acknowledged upfront that he has no real interest in baseball.

Nagano laughed it off but engaged in earnest. "I don't even know if they play in a 12-team league" — he confirmed his near-total ignorance of the sport. During the broadcast, word reached him that the Dragons were in the middle of a last-place battle.

From *Enter the Dragon* to a Cheering Philosophy

Nagano's proposal was a grassroots campaign: continuously posting music from the 1973 Bruce Lee film *Enter the Dragon* (music by Lalo Schifrin) — the original source of the Dragons' fight song "Moeyo Dragons" — on the club's official Instagram. He noted that "Moeyo Dragons" was created in 1973, the same year the film was released, making it a song from 52 to 53 years ago.

He also floated the idea of fans showing up at the stadium in Bruce Lee-style costumes. His reasoning: "Players get used to the same old cheering. Grassroots, rough-and-tumble support that's different from other teams will give them a jolt." He closed with a message to fans: "I can't put wins on the board, but I want the cheering section to bring more raw energy."

The Listener in Europe Who Lost Home Three Times

A listener going by the radio name Kashi (カシー), based in Europe, wrote in. Over four years they had been forced out of their home three times — each time due to the landlord's circumstances. The experience left them unable to sympathize with ordinary complaints like "I can't forget my ex" or "my coworker is annoying." All they could think was, "Who cares — at least you have a house." Even social media and most content had lost its appeal. The only exception, Kashi said, is this show, which "feels like a gathering of people who find life hard to live" — and they asked Nagano to recommend content they might actually enjoy.

Nagano's response was immediate: "I completely understand." He offered the analogy of someone over 180 cm tall complaining they can't attract anyone — "You have height; there's a way to work with that." Feeling cold toward the troubles of people who have what you don't, he said, is a natural reaction.

"Other People's Wives and Kids Are Nothing But a Nuisance" — Twenty Minutes of Honesty

That letter sent Nagano into an extended personal monologue. He admitted that seeing families out in public makes him think, "They're probably not having any fun either." More specifically, he said he "really hated it" when high school friends would show up to meet-ups with their wives and children.

"I want to hang out with my high school friends at the old high-school energy — so why is the wife there?" Any day a friend's spouse and kids were present, he felt he had "lost a day." There was no catching up on old times; instead there was the supposedly heartwarming business of wrangling small children — "which I find not interesting at all." He said he has never once found a friend's wife interesting, and recalled seeing a group of former rough-around-the-edges acquaintances seated around tables at a roadside rest stop with their families: "nothing but in the way."

On children crying on trains, he said: "Crying is their job, but parents should be calming them down. When a parent just watches with a smile, I want to say 'idiot.'" He added that telling a child to shut up is, of course, out of line.

The Awareness of Loneliness

Nagano reflected that in his younger days he had avoided the whole world of family socializing precisely because he found it boring. Now, he feels something closer to envy toward people living that "ordinary life" — and he recognizes it as loneliness. "The punchline is that I aged without ever aiming for it," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. He concluded: "The envy of watching a normal life hold together — I only understand that now, at this age."