Even though I’m ecstatic that spring training has started in earnest, which means that warm weather is right around the corner, I am somewhat melancholic at the news of Roy Halladay’s first Grapefruit League start.
He was typical Doc yesterday afternoon. In his two innings of work, only one batter reached base (on an error) and Halladay threw an incredible 21 strikes in 23 pitches. That type of perfection is unheard of, even from the best pitchers in the game.
Now, I have to listen to Phillies fans and the American media wax poetic on how great Roy is; something that we Toronto fans have known for years. It’s tough to listen to these guys fawn all over Roy, knowing that I will never see him pitch in a Blue Jays uniform again. He’s going to win thirty games this year and hopefully get the World Series ring he so richly deserves.
Truthfully, it’s going to be hard to be a Jays fan this year. I honestly don’t know if I can do it. Sure, I’ll watch the games and follow the team, but it’s going to take a little while for the team to gain back my fandom.
I’m kind of like a scorned politician’s wife whose husband cheated on her. Yes, I’m going to stay with him, but it’s going to take some time for me to forgive his infidelities.
What an excellent Survivor episode last night. After a lacklustre episode last week, Probst and company really brought the goods this time.
I feel remiss that I stopped watching Survivor before Coach’s inaugural season. I mean the guy is an absolutely tremendous reality show character.
For all of his egomaniacal blustering, he’s surprisingly deep and multi-layered. I had no idea that his macho act was such a façade and masked with such rampant insecurity. He’s also surprisingly feminine, evidenced by his teary, emotional blubbering when Sandra had the audacity to call him lazy.
The scene after Tribal Council when Coach was talking to Tyson just killed me. I was transfixed by what lay before my eyes on the screen. Tyson talking Coach off the ledge felt like a scene ripped from the script of Good Will Hunting.
“Coach, it’s not your fault.”
"I know.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, I know, Tyson.”
“No, no. It’s not your fault.”
"Don’t do this to me man. Not you.”
Boston Rob managed to smack some sense into the Dragon Slayer by basically telling him to man up and to find his nuts. Coach did an immediate 180 and compared himself to the Last of the Mohicans and King Arthur. Then, he quoted Confucius. I am in awe of the man.
The reward challenge felt like an episode of the Price is Right with all of the Sears products presented exactly like one of the Showcase Showdown prizes. Speaking of the reward challenge, how hot did the women look all greased up from that sliding track? That was as close to porn as you can get at 8pm on network television.
Danielle’s breasts looked AMAZING! They should really have their own tribe. They’re also the most interesting thing about Danielle.
James seemed somewhat subdued throughout this episode. Maybe Probst got him an extra HGH cycle or something. I was quite impressed that he didn’t punch Sandra in the face during the reward challenge.
Seeing Boston Rob and Russell square off against each other in a battle of wits is like watching two Bond super villains go head to head. I think Russell is, and should be, worried. He’s never faced an adversary quite like Boston Rob, which was evident when Rob once again dominated the immunity challenge with his smarts and puzzle prowess.
What a great move by Tom to get the immunity idol and coerce JT to switch alliances in a complete blindside of Cirie. She deserved to go, for the sake of North America to bear witness to more Tom and Colby interaction. They’re great, like father and son.
This is shaping up to be one of the best seasons of Survivor ever.
Now that The Bachelor is finally over, it’s time that I get back to my roots and talk about pressing sports issues. And not just discuss a topic from the world of sports by giving my admittedly uninformed opinion, but to ridicule and insult someone who has posited a contrarian viewpoint.
With that said, I have to give an assist to long-time reader, Thy Drunken Rookie, for bringing the source material for today’s column to my attention. It’s an article from Yahoo! Sports, by Ross McKeon, entitled ‘Good Show, but the NHL shouldn’t be Involved’.
Read it here before continuing so my forthcoming vitriol makes more sense.
McKeon’s article actually starts out overwhelmingly positive with his praise of Team Canada’s effort in the face of great adversity and knuckle-whitening pressure. He even points out how Sidney Crosby has been pilloried by those who foolishly denounce his greatness. A Stanley Cup and an Olympic Gold Medal at the age of 22 form just the tip of the iceberg of Kid Crosby’s eventual career accolades.
It’s at this point that McKeon opines that NHL players shouldn’t have played in Vancouver in the first place and the wheels completely fall off the coherency of his writing.
What’s fantastic about this article is that McKeon’s points are so stupid and suffer from a case of watching too much Jeopardy. Everything he says comes in the form of the question. Do you know why he does this?
Because it’s much easier to write a column and make a point that way without giving any real thought. For some reason, McKeon has decided to rest on the journalistic laurels the Yahoo! Sports department provides; The New York Times it is not.
Yahoo! Sports is to journalism what William Hung is to singing (Sorry, but I still have the Idol ladies on the brain after last night’s performances).
First, I would hardly call watching two weeks of the best hockey the world has to offer “good stuff.” Is Filet Mignon pretty good meat?
McKeon says that the ‘Miracle on Ice’ would have never happened had NHL players been allowed to play in Lake Placid. Look, the ‘Miracle on Ice’ was such a tremendous moment because of a confluence of factors, not limited to Communism, the Cold War and the fact Mike Eruzione hasn’t had to pay for a dinner in thirty years.
Yes, the American victory in 1980 would have been impossible with NHL participation (mostly because Canada would have run the table). That was one great Olympic hockey moment. Does anyone remember or give a shit about the winner of the gold in hockey in the Olympics before or after that moment?
Of course not, because, until 1998, the best players weren’t playing.
McKeon states that the NHL product has suffered due to the Olympic break because it’s led to rash of injuries and a watered-down product which adversely affects the paying customer.
He provides no statistics for his injury claim (he’s like my kindred writing spirit in that regard) and McKeon’s placing the blame on the lacklustre product on the wrong culprit. The Olympic tournament was great because THE BEST PLAYERS IN THE WORLD WERE PLAYING!
The NHL product sucks during the regular season because there are too many teams and front offices are forced to stuff their rosters with guys who wouldn’t make an AHL team twenty years ago. If the NHL would cut ten teams out of the league, the quality of the product would go up. It has nothing to due with guys having to play a few extra games a month because of the Olympics. They’re professional athletes for Christ’s sakes!
McKeon says, unequivocally, that the “Olympics should be reserved for non-pros. It’s as simple as that.” Yeah, that would be exciting. Have you ever watched the Spengler Cup?
He tries to use the World Juniors as an argument for the exclusion of well-known NHL stars. Sorry, Ross, but that dog won’t hunt. The World Juniors are great to watch because it’s the best under 20 hockey players in the world. That’s why that tourney is so riveting. No one wants to see a bunch of minor leaguers decide Olympic hockey supremacy.
Do you really think 26 million Canadians and 15 million Americans would have watched Sunday’s final if the teams were comprised of guys who couldn’t stick on the NHL’s already bloated rosters?
What would we be able to brag about? Our shitty players are somewhat less shitty than yours?
We should switch jobs, Ross. You’re obviously overpaid.
Great comments on yesterday's Bachelor recap. As promised, here is a podcast CSzem and I recorded on the After the Final Rose special. Unfortunately, there are still some audio glitches on CSzem's end, but what he says isn't that important anyway.
Plus, if this podcast thing doesn't work out, we can always take solace in our inevitable American Idol auditions next year. Trust me, the last thirty seconds is pure magic.
Talkin' with Tewks Live - The Bachelor
My newer readers may not know this, but this blog was actually started by a friend of mine, Gretzpo. This site used to be called Gretzpo's Sports Blog and it used to suck. Big time.
Is it a coincidence that the readership of this blog has exploded exponentially since I took over the writing duties and Gretzpo went back to pleasuring himself to pictures of Gregg Zaun? I think not.
I mean, just take a look at his guest column below (chock full of egregious grammatical errors; Mine and Tewks? Seriously?). Is it funny? Yes, moderately, but it also took him 5 days to write where I can pump out something much better in less than 90 minutes.
It's great to have you back, Gretzpo.
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Garbage Time with Gretzpo: An Olympic Advertising Hangover
Where have I been? Mine and Tewks writing frequency is inversely related to our professional success. I'm currently enjoying a meteoric rise in my industry – hence the sparse amount of posts. Tewks, on the other hand, has a T4 resembling that of the guy who begs for change outside of the LCBO.
This blog was like a son to me ... I raised it. And when I couldn't give it the time it deserved a part of me died ... but now Tewks is the one ... Tewks is the one who has to make sure this site flourishes.
With the Olympics over, I find myself yearning ... yearning for the collective groan of the audience when a female figure skater falls; yearning for the chance to see said female's buttocks as she picks herself up off the ice. I also yearn for pretending to be an expert in sports I watch once every four years – I yearn to scream at a short track speed skating official for a perceived foul.
Sometimes I sit ... and yearn.
The Olympics are crammed full of sappy, human interest stories that pull at the heart strings and make us care for Olympic athletes for 17 days ... and then forget about them for the next 1443 days – until the next Olympics.
But what are the Olympics without advertising? Thirty second clips that also aim to pull at the heart strings ... and make us buy things. One day after the Olympics that's what I'm finding I yearn for the most: horrible Olympic commercials.
My favorite commercial of the Olympics is the one where we see a father and son open up a new pair of skates, and the two go to an outdoor rink to try them out. Only it's the father who has the new pair of skates ... and it's the son who is teaching him to skate. Aww...
The director's cut of this commercial was never released: flash forward a year. The child is belligerent: he is cursing out his father in the dressing room after missing a wide open net in the “D” Championship game of his Wednesday night beer league. The father has failed his son ... he'll never make it to the NHL.
How about the one that tells the story of a Canadian cross country skier who broke her ski pole – but a quick thinking Norwegian coach gave her the pole he was using, allowing her to finish the race and claim a silver medal.
“And to thank the coach, we sent him some maple syrup – three tonnes of it.”
What the fuck is he going to do with all that maple syrup? It's almost as if we wanted to send an exorbitant amount of maple syrup just to confirm our own stereotype. We've forced him to become a maple syrup wholesaler – in a country that has absolutely no market for maple syrup.
“It's big”
“It's beautiful”
"Laid back”
“Sophisticated”
It's definitely my penis ... wait... what was that first one?
The commercial that pissed me off the most was for the Coors Light Beer Coozy.
“Excuse me ... you are Olympic Champion?”
No... he's a fat fuck with a douche beard that probably has four popped collars on under that winter coat.
Beer commercials aren't funny or clever anymore... I yearn for the days of, “If I wanted water, I'd just ask for water.”
Horrible Olympic commercials – I salute you. Your sappiness and maudlinism around the Olympics are as predictable as a Jeremy Wotherspoon 12th place finish.
Gretzpo writes seldomly for this publication
I can’t believe it’s here already. The season finale of The Bachelor. It seems like only yesterday I cast away any illusions of being a rugged, manly man and embraced my love for such trashy television.
I’m getting all emotional just thinking about it. Although, it might just be gas.
On to the final recap of this epic show. Cue the band: ON THE WINGS OF LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!
8:02 – Why is Jake wearing a T-shirt with a plunging neckline? At this point, it might make more sense if he just held up an ‘I’m a gay guy’ sign.
8:05 – Christ, even Jake’s Dad is a pussy.
8:06 – “Vienna’s really smart”. Are you kidding me? Jake has pretty much left all his thought processes to his penis, hasn’t he? His brain is on a permanent vacation.
8:10 – Wow. Watching Tenley walk out of that limo certainly snapped Little Tewks to attention. He just made his final choice.
8:12 – Tenley fits so well with this boring, vanilla family. I could see them doing this for the next fifty years. This is brutal.
8:13 – Why is Jake’s Dad still crying? No wonder Jake is such a dork.
8:14 – Nice set of jugs on Jake’s Mom, but why is she asking about conflict resolution? Is this a job interview?
8:15 – Tenley just mentioned her ex. Everyone take a shot.
8:17 – Papa Pavelka is crying again?
8:18 – “What is he, 5?” Great comment by Sister Tewks after learning that Jakey likes to roughhouse and push people into pools.
8:20 – The producers are making Tenley out to be the obvious choice. It’s all too perfect. It’s an old magician’s secret: misdirection. It’s the same technique I use to slip roofies into girls’ drinks at the bar.
8:25 – Vienna’s meet and greet is going to be a disaster. His family is going to hate her.
8:26 – “Oh, look who’s hereeeee”. Jake’s Mom is staring absolute daggers at Vienna right now.
8:27 – The Pavelka women are not impressed with the cross-eyed freak.
8:28 – Jake’s Mom is the voice of reason. She should take over for Harrison next season. How can Jake not see how horrible Vienna is?
8:34 – “I feel like I’m trying to talk people into Vienna.” How does that not set off alarm bells in Jake’s small, pea brain? This is so frustrating.
8:37 – The conversation between Jake’s Mom and Vienna is like the courtroom scene in A Few Good Men:
“Do you want answers?”
"I think I’m entitled.” “Do you want answers?”
“I want the truth.”
“You can’t handle the truth!”
8:40 – Jake’s family is letting me down. What is wrong with the water in Saint Lucia that they think this bleach blond tramp is marriage material?
8:47 – Jake and Vienna are going on a date at a Sulfur Spring. Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t sulfur smell like farts? Hmm, maybe this date is appropriate for Vienna.
8:49 – “I don’t think Vienna is marriage material”, courtesy of Sister Tewks. No shit. I don’t think Vienna is one night stand material.
8:50 – Why are they covering each other in mud? This is like Predator.
8:56 – When Jake says things like “Vienna offers things that Tenley doesn’t” can we all just agree that it means Vienna will go down on him and Tenley won’t.
9:00 – “I just want to fall asleep in your arms again.” I hate this show. How do I watch this shit?
9:07 – Joyride on a yacht or mud bath in fart springs? These dates perfectly personify Tenley and Vienna.
9:10 – “The heat is building slowly.” That means that Tenley has the guard dog out in front of her garden of earthly delights.
9:12 – Jake’s an asshole. How could he hurt Tenley’s feelings like that? He deserves that trashy whore. All his bullshit about finding true love is just a cover for finding the chick who is the best lay.
9:22 – I think Tenley just grabbed his junk! Atta girl. I got your physical chemistry, Jake . . . RIGHT HERE! That’s a Heisman Trophy calibre move.
9:26 – Oh, Jake is so pensive at the edge of that reflecting pool. What a powerful moment.
9:27 – There’s another ex-husband bomb. I am so wasted right now. It’s the only thing making this show bearable.
9:32 – Another one! I think I have alcohol poisoning.
9:33 – Tenley, Jake’s only going to get down on one knee if you’re willing to get down on two.
9:40 – Look at Tenley! She looks amazing. How can he not pick her? I don’t understand. Vienna is terrible!
9:41 – Wow, this is actually hard to watch. She looks crushed.
9:42 – Tenley is so classy. Keep your chin up. This is like a romantic comedy except the two stars don’t end up together in the end because the guy got Chlamydia from the neighbourhood whore.
9:45 – Jake’s a moron.
9:46 – I would have loved it if Chris Harrison looked at Tenley and asked “So, how did it go?” That would have killed me.
9:54 – I don’t even give a shit anymore.
9:57 – I hope their plane goes down on the way back to the States.
9:58 – Ok, I’m done. I can’t watch this On the Wings of Love music video.
Tune in tomorrow for a special podcast with CSzem to recap this season of The Bachelor and a discussion on the After the Final Rose special.
Let me know what you thought of tonight’s finale.
I'm breaking protocol today. I've decided to post a picture of Canada's national hero instead of my usual vixen.
What a fantastic end to the Olympics last night. CSzem and I recorded a podcast after Canada's gold medal win in which we discuss the game and all things Olympics.
Talkin' With Tewks Live - Episode #2
Be forewarned, the audio on CSzem's end is a little choppy because, in lieu of purchasing a good microphone, he tried to make his own. We hope to have such technical difficulties ironed out shortly.
Plus, we recorded the podcast in different cities. Admittedly, we are morons when it comes to the wonders of modern technology, so you should all be impressed we even managed to produce anything of substance.
Today's podcast clocks in just under fifteen minutes in duration.
Enjoy.
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