Talkin' with Tewks Live: Trip Review and The Week in Sports

(This week's BODs are all courtesy He Who Hits Bombs. They are photos of women that he pleasures himself to. Unfortunately, I do not have their names)

What a trip. This was the third annual heterosexual man-cation that Gretzpo and I have taken in the last three years. For those of you new to the blog, here is the recap of last year's festivities (It's a must read for some of the podcast points to make sense and also provides context for the disturbing pictures to follow).

Be forewarned, this is the longest podcast to date and CSzem and I barely scratched the surface of what we wanted to discuss.

Talkin' with Tewks Live - Trip Review and The Week in Sports

Now for the pictures. This explanation is borrowed from last year's recap:

Everyone’s seen Casino Royale, correct? The film where Daniel Craig breathed new life into the James Bond franchise.

Remember that scene when he comes out of the water all jacked up and struts on the beach looking back and forth?

Well we were so inspired by that sequence that we walked like that everywhere on the resort. Never looking straight ahead, in a perma-flexed position, we made hearts swoon with every step (both men and women; the Daniel Craig strut does not discriminate).

For your viewing pleasure I present the following:

Look at how much better shape we are in compared to last year's photo shoot. A better advertisement for Crossfit I cannot fathom.

Talkin' with Tewks Live: NHL Playoff Roundup

(BOD - With an ass like that, does it matter what her name is?)

As promised, here is this week's edition of Talkin' with Tewks Live. I wanted to wait until last night to record it because I wanted the playoff series to get halfway finished so there would be more to discuss about each series.

Just a reminder, this will be the last new entry posted until May 3, when I return from my well-earned vacation.

Talkin' with Tewks Live - NHL Playoffs

Enjoy.

See you in 10 days.

A Great Time to be a Sports Fan

(BOD - Julianne Hough; with apologies to AC)

I have nothing to be upset about right now. I am in a good mood and there is nothing happening in the sports world that has sufficiently drawn my ire to write about today. I don’t know if it’s the weather or the fact I will double-fisting pina coladas in 72 hours, but last night I contemplated just how great it is to be a sports fan right now.

And by now, I don’t mean 2010. I don’t want to get into a philosophical discussion about how great technology makes following sports in the 21st century. The main reason I don’t want to discuss that angle is that I would be buried under a deluge of techno-speak once I got past High Definition feeds.

No, it’s great to be a sports fan in April. Why?

In Canada and the Northern United States, the weather begins a march towards the mercury-busting temperatures of summer. Nice weather just puts people in a better mood; and sports fans are people so this point applies.

The first golf major of the year takes place. Nothing kicks spring off quite like the schmaltzy music and vivid greens of Augusta National Golf Club. It’s the most entertaining golf tournament to watch in the world.

The start of baseball season. I could wax poetic for thousands of words about my love for America’s pastime. It’s the perfect summer sport. And with each of the 30 teams in Major League Baseball playing a 162 game schedule, it is possible to watch a game every day for the next seven months. How fantastic is that?

The NHL playoffs. I’ve been pretty brutal on hockey over the past year, but that’s only because I don’t care to watch the watered-down product that is a 30 team regular season. Every team in the league has at least three players who don’t belong on an NHL roster. The bad teams have even more. I’m looking in your direction, Toronto Maple Leafs.

But, I do love hockey when it’s played by supremely gifted players, which is why I followed Crosby and Ovechkin so closely during the year. I also loved watching the Olympics as that tournament featured the best players in the world playing with conviction and tremendous skill every single game.

The NHL playoffs, thus far, have done the same thing. The pace of play has been fantastic and every game has been entertaining. Is it a coincidence that the goon squad of mediocre players get zero ice time? Nope, because fighting is not a part of playoff hockey. The postseason is hockey at its best: playing on the edge with passion. It’s not picking a fight because you don’t possess another discernible hockey skill.

The NBA playoffs. Much like hockey, I don’t really follow the sport as a whole during the regular season, but I do keep an eye on transcendent talents like LeBron and Kobe. Too often, NBA players are disengaged during the regular season and just go through the motions (I watched Vince Carter do this night after night for years).

However, I do watch the playoffs because the level of play rises considerably and the games are riveting to watch. Case in point, the duel between Kobe and Kevin Durant in Los Angeles last night. Now that was exciting basketball. It’s not exciting to watch the Raptors lose by 10 in Memphis on a random Wednesday night.

What’s more, the previous three points can all be viewed every single night for the next two months. How great is that? It really is an embarrassment of riches.

Sports fans should count their blessings and remember this time when the dog days of August roll around and the only viewing option are baseball games where the players’ only goal is to not melt in the sun; batting average and ERA be damned.

Attendance Woes for Jays Continue

(BOD - Natalie Gulbis)

The Toronto Blue Jays continue to flirt with the .500 mark through the first two weeks of the regular season. And this is without having played any games against the three big dogs in the AL East. So, can all the moronic fans predicting an asinine 90 plus wins for this team please cool their jets.

If Toronto can stay within spitting distance of mediocrity until the first day of summer, then this 15th consecutive year of rebuilding should be deemed a success.

The big issue that has gotten a lot of traction over the past week has been the pitiful attendance number for the Jays’ first homestand of the season (save for the Home Opener when the Rogers Centre was filled with drunken hooligans like CSzem).

While I do think it’s a disturbing trend that the team is struggling to draw five figures in a building designed for 50,000, the situation isn’t nearly as bad as some media outlets would have you believe.

I don’t even want to address the idiocy of the comments made by that hack White Sox columnist and the reprehensible Alex Rios that there are no baseball fans in this country, baseball is dead in Canada, and the team should be moved to the United States.

Wasting my time writing about such ill-informed trash would be hazardous to my health.

The dearth of fans attending Blue Jays games this season has nothing to do with ‘the death of baseball’ in this country. It has everything to do with people not wanting to spend their hard-earned money on such a lacklustre product.

Canadian baseball fans are much smarter than Canadian hockey fans. How else can you explain the Air Canada Centre being filled to capacity for every single Leafs game when the team hasn’t been relevant in almost a decade?

Baseball fans will show up to the Rogers Centre when there is a good product on the field and there’s a legitimate possibility that the Jays will fight for a playoff spot. Also, every year the first couple of homestands draw horrible crowds. Why? There are a myriad of reasons.

I like baseball just as much as the next person, but if I’m going to spend three hours of my day at the stadium, then I need a couple of assurances: a hot sun, cold beer, and the opportunity to take my shirt off. They won’t open the roof consistently for another few weeks; once the warm weather is here to stay, the crowds will begin to increase. It’s a great afternoon activity for the whole family.

The team traded the best player in franchise history in the offseason. We will get over the departure of Roy Halladay, but it’s going to take some time. Also, the fact he might not lose a start the entire season isn’t exactly speeding up the healing process.

With 81 home games, baseball is a different animal than hockey or basketball. There is ample opportunity throughout the summer to see the team play. With hockey and basketball, you need to be proactive in obtaining tickets, but you can go to a baseball game pretty much any day or time you want.

At the end of the year, the team will still average 20,000-25,000 fans as they have for the last few years.

A memo to the Blue Jays brain trust: put a competitive product on the field and people will come. Oh, they will most definitely come.

Kick-Ass Kicked Ass

(BOD - Caroline Wozniacki)

I need to take care of some general housecleaning before I dive into today’s column. This week’s Talkin’ with Tewks Live podcast will be moved to Thursday. Also, Thursday’s entry will be the last column until May 3.

I am embarking on another heterosexual man-cation with my pal Gretzpo. We’ve been doing the same vacation for three years and in no way is that depressing. Once again, we will be returning to the Communist paradise of Cuba.

While most people like to relax and unwind on an all-inclusive vacation, we do nothing of the sort. We play sports for eight hours a day. We actually return home in superior physical condition than when we left (although this year, I’m not sure if it’s theoretically possible for me to be in better shape).

Also, it seems that I have something of a secret admirer. In Friday’s comments section, 'Anonymous' posted the following: “I’ve got the biggest crush on you right now (in the least creepiest way possible).”

Now, with my luck, that was probably posted by some dude, but it certainly won’t stop me from fantasizing about some smoking hot babe expressing her adoration for my work.

I saw Kick-Ass on Saturday night and I will be the first to admit that I was blown away. The movie was fantastic. I’m usually not a fan of superhero fare; I never really understood the attraction. I prefer my heroes to be real guys, like Rambo and Rocky Balboa.

There was a lot of discussion about how violent and gory the movie is, and how the foul language will be the moral undoing of America’s children, but it was all much ado about nothing. Sure, it was violent, but nothing really out of the ordinary. The edits during the fight scenes were so incredibly quick that any gruesome imagery didn’t make a lasting impression.

The cursing wasn’t too extreme either. It was pretty typical of a movie made in the post Superbad era. What most people were concerned with was the words coming out of the mouth of Hit Girl and how she’s a bad influence on kids.

Turthfully, I don't think she said anything that offensive. She let loose with a couple of f-bombs and said ‘cock’ once; nothing too crazy. One of the best parts of the movie was when she referred to a group of gangbangers as ‘cunts’; that part killed me.

Every scene with Hit Girl and Big Daddy (played by Nicolas Cage) had me enthralled from start to finish. They had a great father/daughter chemistry and somehow made bloodthirsty vigilantism seem sweet.

The filmmakers also made the movie much more realistic than I thought. The titular character was actually a pretty pathetic hero. The writers could have taken the easy way out and had Kick-Ass, uh, kick ass as soon as he put on his green and yellow wetsuit.

Instead, the first time he tried to stop a couple of dirtbag thugs from committing a crime, he ended up getting stabbed in the stomach and hit by a car. Actually, he pretty much spent the entire movie getting the shit kicked out of him. Even Hit Girl and Big Daddy weren’t immune to feeling the wrath of the bad guys. Hit Girl’s final fight scene was actually kind of difficult to watch. It’s strange seeing a grown man chokeslam a little girl (albeit one who could kick my ass).

My one problem with the movie was the completely unrealistic, and formulaic, romantic relationship. Shockingly, Kick-Ass was able to get the girl of his dreams. How? She thought he was gay, they became close friends, he told her he was Kick-Ass and that he wasn’t actually gay, then she had sex with him.

What?

Their entire friendship was based on lies and, not only was she cool with she it, but she banged him five minutes after discovering the truth. Completely ridiculous. Plus, she was way too hot for him. But, they did have a pretty graphic sex scene outside of a comic bookstore and it was pretty sweet. So, I’m torn.

Also, the end of the movie was set up perfectly for a sequel. I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. The premise seems like more of a one-time thing for me. But, I can guarantee that if Kick-Ass makes $100 million at the box office, Kick-Ass 2 will be crammed down our throats sooner than later.

Verdict: 4 Therapy Sessions for Being Attracted to Hit Girl out of 5

Survivor Recap: The Heroes are Morons

(BOD - Angelina Jolie)

Back to my regularly scheduled Friday programming and a recap of last night’s Survivor episode. I purposely skipped last week’s episode because I was still reeling from Boston Rob’s ouster and used my silence on the matter as a protest.

However, I’m back and, evidently, I picked a great week to do so.

Let’s start off with the reward challenge. I hate challenges that pretty much boil down to a game of ‘Who Can Last the Longest?’ My hatred primarily stems from the constant reminder of my lacklustre sexual stamina.

Not only that, but such challenges are kind of boring and require zero physical strength or intelligence. Need proof? The fact the Villains won the challenge so handily just proves how horrible and useless the challenge was. Women shouldn’t be able to beat men in anything; unless it was a household chores contest (Ba-dum-cha!).

Did you know the challenge was sponsored by Outback Steakhouse? I had no idea. Probst only mentioned it 12 times in three minutes. I loved how Colby let loose with a “Bloomin’ Onion!” to try to get in their next ad campaign.

I was so jealous of that immunity idol note Parvarti received at the Outback reward dinner. It got passed from Parvarti’s underwear to Danielle’s bikini top. What a wild ride. I would pay five grand to be able to get that close to Danielle’s magnificent cleavage (if she makes it to the finals, I hope someone writes down ‘Danielle’s Breasts’ as their vote).

I really hate JT. He’s such a moron, and a bit of a douchebag. His comment that, “I didn’t even want to win the reward; I’ve eaten thousands of steaks in my life” made me want to punch him in the face. Well, look at you JT. You’re like the Queen of England.

The Heroes deciding to give the immunity idol to Russell is the dumbest thing I have ever seen on this show. I don’t understand why they assume there is a woman’s alliance. And why would they vocalize those thoughts when the Villains are in earshot? Just a monumentally stupid decision.

The comedy of JT writing a note to Russell with instructions with what to do with the immunity idol was off the charts hilarious. Watching JT write that letter was like watching a nine year old write a gushing fan letter to Justin Bieber. But, I have a question: where the hell did they get pen and paper from?

The entire passing of the immunity idol to Russell seemed a little fishy to me. Opposing tribes never congratulate each other after challenges. Jeff always sends the losers back to camp immediately. The entire scene seemed staged to me.

Tribal council was kind of boring. I am completely ambivalent to Courtney going home. But, how great did Coach look as the first member of the jury? He looked like an ancient Indian Shaman. He’s the best.

Was it just me or does Danielle have a mustache? There was a very weird shadow going on in her upper lip region. It was very distracting and took away some of my enjoyment of her breasts.

Next week’s merge episode looks fantastic.

A Disappointing Night of Television

(BOD - Katie Price)

TV really let me down last night. I always thought we had a simple, uncomplicated relationship. I sit on my ass, in various stages of undress, and it entertains me with mindless entertainment and professional sports coverage.

I don’t know what the hell TV’s problem was last night (maybe I haven’t paid enough attention to it recently), but it was acting like a huge bitch. Everywhere I turned, the viewing options at my disposal left me bitterly disappointed and upset. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be.

Let’s recap, shall we:

The first night of the NHL playoffs commenced and, since I stuck my neck out in handicapping the first round matchups, I figured I would tune in to see how great my hockey knowledge really is.

Shit.

Of the four games on last night, the team that I picked to win the series lost every damn game. How is that even possible? I understand that it’s a long series, but it’s still disconcerting to see my teams rack up L’s at such an alarming rate.

I focused the majority of my attention to the Penguins/Senators game because of my man love for Kid Crosby. One thing I didn’t understand right from the start of the game is why the Penguins decided to hand out white towels and white shirts to their fans.

I understand the premise of dressing your crowd monochromatically to intimidate your opponent, but white seems like a stupid colour choice. Waving a white flag is the universal signal of surrender. When boxers are getting destroyed in the ring, their corners throw in a white towel.

By getting Penguins fans to wave white towels, aren’t you submitting to the Senators?

Not only that, but the Senators were dressed in white, the Penguins in black, so it looked like the game was being held in Ottawa. Shouldn’t the crowd be dressed in all black? That would look pretty sweet on camera.

After the Senators held off a furious charge by the Penguins in the waning moments of the third period, I switched over to the Blue Jays game looking for something to brighten my mood. I figured it was a safe bet since they are first place in the AL East and are playing extremely well so far this year.

They were down by a touchdown and a field goal. The team really needs to get rid of Brandon Morrow. He sucks. That’s two shitty starts in a row and I don’t even think he pitched that well in spring training (which is meaningless in the first place).

The only reason he’s getting a shot at the rotation is because he’s young, big and strong, and he throws really hard. Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but it doesn’t mean shit if you can’t throw the ball over the fucking plate.

I am so sick of teams giving shots to fireballers who don’t know how to pitch. I don’t care if you can throw 120 miles an hour. If you can’t get it near the strikezone, then you don’t belong in the major leagues.

Luckily, the only person who hates walks more than I do is Cito Gaston, so I don’t see Mr. Morrow being a part of the starting rotation by Victoria Day.

The final kick in the nuts I suffered at the hands of my television took place on the results show of American Idol (any straight men still reading may want to log off now). Two contestants were scheduled to be eliminated last night because the judges’ evoked the ‘Judges’ Save’ last week to rescue Big Mike from falling back into obscurity.

The first person voted off was Andrew Garcia, a decision which I had no problem with. However, I cannot, in good conscience, support Katie Stevens’ ouster. She was the last hot chick remaining in the competition. Now who am I supposed to ogle?

I understand that she is only 17 years old, but if I’m mature enough to cast away any lingering doubts about our age difference, then why can’t the rest of the world?

However, a sliver of light made its way into my gloomy existence with the news that Carrie Underwood will be returning to my TV next week as part of the Idol Gives Back special.

Just when I think I’m out, they keep pulling me back in.

Guest Column: CSzem vs The 18th Amendment

(BOD: Nicole Scherzinger)

Based on the great insider info we received from the Masters last week, and in a continued effort to legitimize the relevancy of the blog, I sent CSzem on assignment to cover the Blue Jays home opener on Monday night.

Why did I entrust my podcast co-host to take on such a important task? Do I believe he is a better writer or funnier than me? Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. But, I will never show my face at Opening Day for the reasons CSzem outlines below.

Furthermore, I don't like people to begin with. Why would I want to be around 50,000 of them in close quarters?

I do like CSzem's recap of the night though. It almost feels like I was there. His thesis: Tewks is always right.

However, I don't understand the title of his column. What is the 18th Amendment? It sounds like a shitty John Grisham novel.

Alex Rios is an asshole. More on that later, but I had to get it off my chest.

Sunday night, after finishing up our post-Masters podcast, the conversation between Tewks and I quickly turned to baseball. And why wouldn't it? The Good Doctor is thriving in Philly as we predicted, a number of bullpen collapses throughout the league have led to multiple exciting finishes around the league, and - of course - the Jays are off to yet another terrific start.

"I'm coming down to the Home Opener", I remarked to your regular blogger, "Are you going as well?"

This seemed like a reasonable question, and one I thought I knew the answer to. Tewks, however, threw me one of his trademark 12-6 curveballs by quickly jumping into a tirade about how he simply refuses to go to Opening Day. Ever the curmudgeon, his fury extended to parking attendants, traffic cops, other fans, and I think he even took a shot at underprivileged kids with disabilities.

I countered: What could be wrong with 50,000 screaming fans actually giving a crap for one game? Traffic, schmaffic. I'll deal with it.

The early returns on the trip were excellent. The traffic getting into town was considerably lighter than I expected and parking was a breeze. But, then it started.

"It" was the near total lack of ability for me to find beer to drink. I don't want to sound like an alcoholic here (I prefer to continue living the lie), but when I go to a baseball game, I expect to be able to drink plenty of beer. Right after we parked the car, we headed to a series of pubs/restaurants in hopes of grabbing a few pre-game pints – to no avail. Everywhere was packed.

I guess that's to be expected. There were lots of people around, which is a good thing. It means people care about this team and this game.

So we went inside the Dome. Since we were there a good hour and a half before the first pitch, the place was pretty empty. We grabbed a few beers, played “let’s see how many I can drink before the first pitch” (answer: 4), and enjoyed heckling Alex Rios.

Amazingly, Rios wasn’t even the most worthy adversary for my ire during the pre-game festivities. Out of nowhere appeared my nemesis: former Blue Jays broadcaster/the Antichrist (too much?), Jamie Campbell. He was 10 feet in front of me. What did I do? This was my chance to tell him how I felt!

“Thanks for ruining the last 4 years of my life, Jamie!!”

And with that, my revenge had been wrought. Did he hear me? That’s for him to know. In my mind, there’s no doubt. The moment could not have been more satisfying. My night was made, no matter what happened. And it’s a good thing, because what transpired afterwards was a series of rather depressing events.

To reiterate, Alex Rios is an asshole. This probably isn’t a huge surprise to most people. We are talking about a guy who went on a profanity-laced tirade after being criticized for denying a small child an autograph after a charity function; not exactly the stuff of philanthropic legend. But, I had no idea to what extent until I saw the pre-game introductions before the game. Booed heartily (as expected) by the patrons, Rios, instead of taking the high road (and eating the humble pie he deserved), thought it appropriate to mock the fans of Toronto.

He took off his cap and waved it around like he was getting a huge ovation. Just a giant middle finger to the fans who financially supported the team to such a degree that it allowed Rios to obtain a $60M contract.

Thanks for coming out, Alex. (Editor’s Note: I thought I hated Rios after Monday, but I had no idea how deep my hated ran after his destruction of Ricky Romero’s No-No last night)

Now, back to the beer situation. I mentioned earlier that there were nearly 50,000 people in attendance at the game on Monday night. I can only assume this was not a surprise to the Rogers Centre management, but you would have guessed they were expecting about 1,500 fans instead.

Never have I seen an event so understaffed. I sent my buddy up to grab us a couple beers around the 4th inning. Two innings later, he returned – beerless. He had given up waiting in the line because he didn’t want to miss any more baseball. Naturally, I figured that my friend was simply a moron and had made a poor line selection.

This proved to not be the case. Up two levels and on the other side of the stadium, I finally managed to find a beer vendor with a slightly smaller line. What an ordeal. I eventually returned to my seat (who knows how many innings later), but it was clear this was Rex Banner’s night.

Despite all of this, a huge number of fans still managed to get drunk enough to start the obligatory fights in the crowd. We were lucky enough to have a fight break out about ten feet from us, which was fantastic. This helped take my attention away from the field, so I didn’t have to pay attention while the Jays were painfully throwing away what should have been yet another victory.

Between the total lack of organization in the Dome, and the Blue Jays clear incompetence (they don't have me fooled), the night really turned into a phenomenal disaster.

Maybe Tewks was right? Maybe Opening Day should be left for the cretins and other pseudo-fans?

Nah, screw it. See you next year.

NHL Playoff Preview

I am still riding high from my correct prediction months ago that the Calgary Flames and Toronto Maple Leafs would miss the 2010 postseason. As such, I figured I should flex some more hockey knowledge and predict the winners the first round of the playoffs.

(Quick aside to He Who Hits Bombs: Once again, a funny and interesting recap of the podcast. You even proved that you actually listened by calling me on stupid comments that I made. However, you had a problem with the usage of words like ‘undulation’ and ‘aficionado’ and remarked that I’m just trying to sound smart since I don’t use such words every day.

Correction: I don’t use those words when talking to you because I know you’re not smart enough to understand them. If a term isn’t gym-related, I assume it just goes right over your head. You’re kind of like an oar-less rowboat drifting aimlessly out to sea when it comes to verbal comprehension.

And let’s be honest, the only reason you made it the full 25 minutes is that you literally have nothing better to do with your time. That being said, your open invitation to be a guest on a future podcast is still on the table)

Eastern Conference

Washington (1) vs. Montreal (8)

I would love to say that the Canadiens are primed to pull off their best David versus Goliath impression but, much like the Bible, such nonsense is not based on any semblance of fact.

Montreal is going to get pumped by the Capitals. Washington was the class of the NHL throughout the regular season and their team possesses no clear holes. Plus, their offence is absolutely terrifying; the Capitals were the only team in the league to have two guys score over 100 points: Niklas Backstrom and some Russian guy.

Capitals in 5

New Jersey (2) vs. Philadelphia (7)

Philadelphia backed into the playoffs. They played like shit over the last two weeks of the season to allow the New York Rangers to claw back into contention. I actually hoped the Rangers would get the final playoff spot over the Flyers because I want teams in the postseason who are on a roll and, you know, deserve to be there.

The Flyers only qualified because they are better at shootouts than the Rangers. Something that won’t help them against New Jersey, a team that beat the defending Stanley Cup Champions six times a row this year. Yes, six times in a row. Look for the Devils to make some noise in May.

Devils in 4

Buffalo (3) vs. Boston (6)

I literally don’t know anything about these teams. As I’ve written in a previous column, I only follow star players and the Sabres and Bruins possess no such constellations.

However, I do remember Ryan Miller, Buffalo’s goalie, from the Olympics and how he completely stymied Team Canada. Miller almost single-handedly stole our gold medal from us. Therefore, he is the X Factor in this series.

Sabres in 6

Pittsburgh (4) vs. Ottawa (5)

Short and sweet: Sid the Kid > everyone on the Senators.

Penguins in 4

Western Conference

San Jose (1) vs. Colorado (8)

The Shark’s MO for the last few years has been that they are great in the regular season, but they don’t have the resident toughness or intestinal fortitude to go deep into the playoffs.

There is a glaring difference between this year’s squad and the Sharks of seasons’ past. The change took place in February when the line of Joe Thornton, Patrick Marleau and Danny Heatley was instrumental in leading Team Canada to gold.

They are an unstoppable trio. The days of San Jose hitting the golf course in April are no longer. Look for a deep run by the boys in teal.

Sharks in 5

Chicago (2) vs. Nashville (7)

I hate Patrick Kane and everything his little punkass stands for. I hope he gets a concussion.

Predators in 6

Vancouver (3) vs. Los Angeles (6)

Bobby Lu is my new favourite goaltender for obvious reasons. I can’t see how he won't carryover his mojo from the Olympics into the NHL postseason.

But, he will be playing against Drew Doughty, arguably Canada’s best defenseman in Vancouver. Something’s gotta give and I think it will be Doughty’s lack of experience.

Canucks in 6

Phoenix (4) vs. Detroit (5)

I think this series has the potential to be the best series of the first round. You have the Coyotes with karma on their side for the way the NHL has jerked them around for the past 18 months. They have an ‘us against the world’ mentality that can’t be overlooked in a seven game series.

On the other hand, you have the Detroit Red Wings, who have been the class of the league for over a generation. Before the Olympic break, there was a lot of talk that the Wings were in danger of missing the postseason for the first time since, I think, Gordie Howe last laced up his skates.

The next thing I know, they are the hottest team in the NHL and have cracked the 100 point plateau once again. There is no one in the league who wants to play Detroit right now.

Wings in 7

Talkin' with Tewks Live: The Masters

(BOD - Amy Mickelson)

What a fantastic edition of the season's first major. Unfortunately, Tiger was not able to capture his fifth green jacket, as I predicted, but Phil the Thrill Mickelson was able to walk away with his third.

CSzem and I covered the entire tournament in an epic podcast last night.

Talkin' with Tewks Live - The Masters

Enjoy.

Welcome to Augusta

(Babe of the Day - Amber Heard)

All of you better appreciate the fact I’m writing a column today. I am currently riding shotgun in a car driven by someone who has no business being behind the wheel; not only that, but I`m trying to create journalistic excellence with one hand on the holy shit handle.

Last night, I went to a performance at Casino Rama to see the Golden Boys, featuring Fabian, Lou Christi and Frankie Avalon. It was amazing. I sincerely wish I had a time machine to go back to the 1950s and live my life.

Then, after the show, I had about a half dozen Bud Lights, so if my writing is worse than usual, now you know why.

What a start to the 2010 Masters yesterday afternoon. Not only did you have the return of Tiger Woods’ after a five month layoff, but you had the PGA Tour`s very own members of the Golden Boys dominating the first page of the leaderboard.

Both Tom Watson and Freddie Couples were able to turn back the clock, for one day at least, and be the focal points of a tournament and course that hasn’t seen their best days for more than decade. Couples’ 66 and Watson’s 67 gives hope to aging Boomers everywhere that the opportunity to kick the shit out of guys half their age isn`t just a pipe dream.

Also, even more unbelievably, Watson and Freddie were able to take the spotlight away from Tiger and his return to competitive golf. How cool did Freddie look with that tan, salt and pepper hair, sneakers and no socks? He looked like he should be yachting off the coast of St. Barts rather than playing in the season`s first major.

Tiger shot 68, which is the first time he`s ever broken 70 in a first round at Augusta, and looked to not have one ounce of rust in his game. Everything looked sharp, which is a scary proposition for his fellow PGA Tour members the rest of the year.

Was it me or did Tiger look exceedingly composed and comfortable throughout the entire round? He didn`t even seem fazed by the helicopters flying overhead dragging banners talking of sex addiction and ‘bootyism’.

By the way, the person responsible for said banners is nothing short of a comedic genius.

Here’s my hypothesis on Tiger for the foreseeable future. The guy was the best golfer on the planet while leading a double life. Do you realize how much focus and mental fortitude is required to win golf tournaments, all while juggling your wife and family and a gaggle of slutty mistresses?

Any normal human being would have cracked under that unrelenting pressure and mental strain. Not Tiger. And now, he says he having fun again for the first time in a long time.

Tiger’s mind is completely clear. He can just hone his focus in on golf. I think he’s going to be a better player now than he ever was.

And it will start with a fifth green jacket being draped across his broad shoulders on Sunday night.

Tune in on Monday for a Masters Recap podcast with CSzem.

Doc Makes the Cover of SI

(Babe of the Day - Gabrielle Union)

The inspiration for today’s column was derived from the cover story in this week’s Sports Illustrated; a glowing expose on the greatness that is Roy Halladay. I felt somewhat melancholic as I read about how hard Roy works between starts, how committed he is to his craft, and just how great he is on the hill.

These are all things I knew already. In fact, I kind of felt like a guy from a small town who had a smoking hot girlfriend until an unfortunate breakup. Everyone in the town knew how hot she was, but she was pretty much an unknown entity outside of our municipality. We had some great years in high school, but we started growing apart in our senior year.

She wanted to spread her wings and go to a big city for college. Her hotness had outgrown the small town. She needed to find someone who was on equal footing and had something more to offer than what I could provide.

I knew she deserved to go; she had given me some great years that I’ll never forget, but she had to explore her options and have the opportunity to be with a winner. We had a mutual breakup. I hadn’t thought about her for a few months and then I hear through the grapevine that she’s now the most popular girl at her school, she’s dating the star quarterback, and everyone loves her. They can’t believe how great she is and that they’ve never heard about her before.

And I just want to puke out of sheer anguish (I also somehow managed to make my mancrush on Roy Halladay seem even gayer).

A couple of things bothered me about the article. First, Roy was lauded for his tremendous work ethic and legendary workouts that last multiple hours; which is why he shows up at the park at 5:30 in the morning for spring training.

Look, pitchers, by and large, are pussies. They exhibit diva-like tendencies and are generally pretty soft. There are some exceptions like Roy and yours truly, but, as a group, we are not known for our toughness. So, when I hear that no one on the Jays pitching staff could even complete half of Halladay’s post start leg workout, I’m not that impressed. I think that’s more of a commentary on the weakness of the Jays staff, rather than Doc’s impressive strength and endurance.

Next, why do Roy’s workouts take hours to complete? If it actually takes him that long to workout, then his intensity is nowhere near the level it should be. As a Crossfit disciple, I know that optimum results can be achieved in less than an hour of work per day, provided you are working your ass off the entire time.

For that matter, why the hell is he doing leg presses? Learn to squat. Below parallel. With 400 pounds on your back. Then, I'll be impressed. 

It’s impossible to maintain such a breakneck pace for any significant time duration. I’ll bet Roy, if he ratcheted up the intensity, would cut the length of his sessions drastically with zero loss in effectiveness.

The early arrival time isn’t as impressive as it sounds, either. I’ve already established that Halladay’s workouts, while long, are unnecessarily so. Plus, he’s not working out for eight hours a day (the article states 3-4 hours max, which includes his cool down, hot and cold baths etc.). Why does he get there so early?

So, he can be known as the first guy at the ballpark.

The article said that he even bumped up his arrival time to ensure he would beat some of his new Phillies teammates to the park. The work he puts in could be done at anytime. He’s obviously an early riser, so he likes to get his work done in the pre-dawn hours, which is fine, but let’s not fawn all over the guy because he gets up early.

Working out early just looks more impressive; Halladay could do the same stuff at three o’clock in the afternoon.

I know it seems like I’m committing blasphemy by calling Halladay’s workouts into question, but as a person who truly understands working hard at the gym, and as someone who has been around the game of baseball for almost twenty years, Roy’s workouts are impressive for a baseball player. The training regimen of any NHL, NBA or NFL player would absolutely bury him.

Something about Roy’s game day regimen bothered me as well. I understand his desire to stay focused before he pitches, but he comes off as a bit of an asshole. Not saying a word to coaches, teammates or the training staff (not even a thank you to the trainer after he rubs you down?) just seems a little much.

There’s a difference between being focused and being a prick. Staring at a teammate until he moves from your pre-ordained seat? Come on, Roy. That’s just being a bully and abusing your power as the big dog in the clubhouse.

However, Roy can get away with all of this. Why? Because he’s the best pitcher in baseball.

Crash Davis said it best in Bull Durham when he admonished Nuke Laloosh for his fungus-ridden shower sandals.

"If you win 20 in the show, you can let the fungus grow back and the press'll think you're colourful. Until you win 20 in the show, however, it means you are a slob."

People will excuse all types of behaviour provided you produce when you’re on the bump. Roy can do whatever he wants because he’s a stud.

Am I being too harsh? I don’t know.

Maybe I’m just a jealous ex-boyfriend who can’t deal with the fact my smoking hot, former girlfriend is now banging some guy who is way better than me.

Karma is a Bitch

(In yesterday’s comments, AC asked that I begin providing the names of the 'Babe of the Day' for, what I assume are masturbatory purposes. Ask and ye shall receive. Today’s lady is Kaley Cuoco)

It’s very rare that I get an opportunity to gloat in this space, so when the time comes along that I am actually correct in predicting something sports related, it’s best to take full advantage. I’d be remiss if I didn’t.

Back in November, I wrote a very engaging piece on the H1N1 flu shot scandal. Read it here. To summarize, Canadian NHL players were given the opportunity to skip the queues and receive their flu shots before at-risk priority groups.

I was particularly vehement in my written word upbraiding of these rough, tough hockey players, but I also made, in hindsight, a very cunning prediction:

Karma is going to come back and bite the Calgary Flames in the ass; I guarantee they won’t make the playoffs this year. I’d say the same thing about the Leafs but they weren’t going to make the playoffs in the first place.

What happened last night? The Calgary Flames were eliminated from playoff contention. How do you like them apples, Flames? Still wish you had gotten that flu shot before everyone else?

I think this may be the first time I have ever been right on the blog. I feel like I should be standing on an aircraft carrier, in a flight suit, with a giant ‘Mission Accomplished’ banner hanging behind me.

I feel so energized by my correct assertion that I want to parlay my luck a little bit further with my prediction for the winner of the Rocket Richard trophy for most regular season goals. Plus, since I already covered the NBA points race, it’s only fair that I talk about some white guys who score as well.

Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin faced off against each other in another clash last night and, when the dust settled, both players had 48 goals with three and two regular games remaining respectively. Honestly, Crosby should be up by one because Ovechkin’s second goal was complete horseshit.

It’s a 5-3 game with less than ten seconds left and Ovechkin was skating around like it was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. He put the puck in with two tenths of a second remaining on the clock. I know a goal is a goal, but it was a pure garbage tally. I hope Ovechkin doesn’t end up winning by one.

Somehow Steven Stamkos is still in the mix for the title as the baby-faced assassin scored his 47th last night. It would just be weird seeing Stamkos’ name engraved on the trophy. Is he really the player you’d most remember from this season when asked to name a prolific goal scorer?

Also, not to take away anything from the kid, but I’m pretty sure every single goal he’s scored this year has come on the power play from the exact same spot on the ice: the left faceoff dot. He’s a great player, but I have a sneaking suspicion that his goal total from this year will eventually be explained away as a statistical
aberration.

I hope Crosby ends up with 50 on the year (for the first time in his career) and ultimately takes the trophy because this may be his last opportunity. Let’s face it, Ovechkin is a better pure goal scorer than Sid the Kid and Ovie’s missed quite a few games this year, so it would be nice for Sid to capture the one piece of hardware that has eluded him.

Opening Day Roundup

Before I delve into my thoughts on Opening Day, I wanted to address the comments on yesterday’s MLB preview podcast. I was very impressed with He Who Hits Bomb live recap. I feel honoured that you took twenty minutes out of your busy schedule of eating protein bars and touching yourself to weigh in with some legitimately funny comments.

Anytime you want to be a podcast guest, just let me know. The offer’s on the table. However, I must warn you that grunts and monosyllabic expressions of opinion will not translate well through computer speakers. You might want to look into an ESL course or something.

I really wish the person who said the podcasts suck wouldn’t have hid behind the anonymous tag. That’s just lazy, and kind of cowardly. Let my buddy Herm Edwards take over my thoughts on that comment:

Just put your name on it, that's all I say. Be a man or a woman, put your name on it, don't be afraid of it.

What a great day to be a baseball fan yesterday. The sun was shining, I didn’t have a shirt on, and the Blue Jays kicked off their 2010 campaign with an exciting game against the Rangers.

I loved having Buck Martinez in the broadcast booth. He was such an improvement over Jamie Campbell that it was like a dark cloud had been lifted over the TVs of thousands of Jays fans everywhere. Buck’s presence had a positive influence over Pat Tabler as well. Finally, Tabler has a broadcast partner to whom he can talk intelligently about baseball instead of that gingerbread Campbell asking him why Adam Lind isn’t being selective on an 0-2 count.

However, I do think Martinez and Tabler have to temper expectations a little bit. Numerous times throughout the broadcast, they mentioned how ‘hungry’ this Jays team is and that the team is taking all the pundits criticism personally and they’ll surpass early season predictions because of it. Nope, the team still sucks. Sorry, guys.

It appears that Vernon Wells may actually be good again for the first time since 2003, which is nice. I loved Overbay’s facial hair; he looks tough as nails now. Marcum threw great, but just ran into some bad luck in the seventh; that jack by Nelson Cruz was complete bullshit.

Moving around the majors, it was great to see Doc Halladay throw a gem in his debut for the Phillies. I’m happy for him. He will seriously be unstoppable in that league all summer. I really hope the Phillies win it all.

Did you see Barack Obama throw out the first pitch in Halladay’s start versus the Nationals? Jesus Christ, that was embarrassing. I understand that he’s a basketball guy, but I expect a little more from the leader of the free world.

Obama looked like he had never thrown a ball before. I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand how someone could be so uncoordinated that they can’t throw a ball sixty feet without looking like they’re having an epileptic seizure.

Say what you want about the efficacy of George W. Bush’s presidency, but at least the guy could pump the zone when called upon.


Check this out.

Talkin' with Tewks Live: MLB Preview

I hope everyone has recovered from the orgiastic chocolate feast known as Easter. I have a horrible sugar hangover right now. This weekend was the first time in 2010 that I've eaten any semblance of sweets and I am paying for it right now.

But enough about me. Today is Opening Day of the 2010 Major League Baseball season. To mark such a terrific occasion, I, along with two jerks well-known to this blog, recorded a MLB preview podcast.

There is also a surprise at the beginning of the recording that is evidence of my newfound technical prowess.

Talkin' with Tewks Live - MLB Preview

Enjoy.

Potpourri

I’m going to cover a melange of topics today as I prepare for an epic Easter Weekend consisting of softball and much-needed male bonding tomorrow, my second foray into the world of curling on Saturday, and an opportunity to take my shirt off and workout outside on Sunday.

(No column tomorrow out of respect for Jesus)

Yesterday’s Comments

I’m actually going to take He Who Hits Bombs childish (and projected) digs at my sexual orientation as a compliment. He remarked that “this blog is going downhill” with my coverage of American Idol, Jersey Shore and The Bachelor.

However, that just means that at some point, my blog was enjoying lofty status uphill, which is one of the nicest things ever said about my writing. I may even add that to the banner at the top of the site: Talkin’ with Tewks – It Sucks Now but You Should Have Seen it Six Months Ago.

Teebs, Teebs, Teebs. I’m very disappointed in you. We had quite a nice little discussion going on and you had to ruin it with your display of research and facts. I completely made up my points from yesterday. I went with my gut. That’s what we do here at Talkin’ with Tewks. Gut first, intelligence and thought later.

Come on, Teebs. You’re better than that.

Thank you SSzem for the kind words and your own American Idol thoughts. See fellas, I was asked to provide my reality TV thoughts and I did. Are you brave enough to go against the wishes of a pregnant woman? I, for one, am not. Especially since she has the capability to suffocate me in my sleep this weekend.

Blue Jays Rough Up Halladay

Yesterday afternoon, the Jays lit Roy up for four runs in the first inning. Thus far, I haven’t heard anything, but I have a strong enough belief in the idiocy of some Jays fans that they will look to yesterday’s game as some type of proof that the Jays got rid of Halladay at the right time and he will no longer be the same pitcher he was for Toronto.

Nothing could be further from the truth. It was a meaningless spring training start. There was no reason for Doc to be jacked up for that start and a myriad of reasons for the Jays to try to jump all over him.

You Jays fans thinking Halladay is done: talk to me in August when he’s already won twenty games.

More Tiger Details Emerge

This will be the last time I’m going to mention Tigers' off field exploits. From this point forward, it’s only golf related topics from now on. Like, by just how many strokes will Tiger win The Masters this year?

A new article from Vanity Fair talks to some of the whores that Tiger had sex with. It’s mostly boring shit no one cares about, but one quote made me laugh. Apparently, Tiger is quite frugal with the women he sleeps with. According to the article, the only thing Tiger ever bought for Mindy Lawton was a chicken wrap from Subway on the way to her house.

That’s fantastic. I guess Tiger and I have more in common than I thought.

American Idol Travesty

Didi Benami, otherwise known as the hot chick, was voted out last night. What a horrible decision. Unfortunately, I may have to boycott covering the remainder of the season as a protest.

I sincerely think this may be the last year this show is socially relevant. It’s been a fun ride.

Dion Phaneuf Named Most Overrated Player in NHL by Peers

This is really who you want as your next captain, Toronto fans? Good luck with that.

American Idol Recap

Now that Idol is finally down to a manageable number and I can recognize the remaining singers at first glance, I figured it was time to give my uninformed opinions on the “TOP 10 UNDISCOVERED SINGERS IN AMERICA!!!”

I am nowhere near a music snob. I like mainstream, popular fluff; evidenced by my adoration of Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. Therefore, I will be dissecting last night’s performances based purely on what was pleasing visually and aurally (not to be confused with orally; I also like to be pleased that way as well). I don’t care if contestants take risks or ‘make songs their own’; I just want to be entertained.

(Quick aside: I want to address Teebs’ comment from yesterday’s post about the NBA scoring race. Teebs, when LeBron says “It doesn’t matter”, I don’t think he is referring to the scoring title. I think he is referring to the media trying to create a rivalry for the title between him and Kevin Durant.

I also disagree with your claim that LeBron says he doesn’t care about winning the scoring title. Would it be nice? Yes. Is it a necessity? No. Of course he wants to win it, but look at these (unsubstantiated) facts. Fifteen points separate the two players right now. That is one basket every ten games. A scoring title separated by such a miniscule margin is a big deal in name only.

Also, do you realize LeBron sits out the fourth quarter of one game a week because the Cavaliers are consistently involved in blowouts? That is almost one game a month that LeBron is stapled to the bench. Oklahoma City doesn’t have that luxury. Durant has to play big minutes every game for the Thunder to have a chance to win.

That is what LeBron means when he says he could be the scoring champion every year if he wanted. If he played 45 minutes per game, he’d be averaging 35 plus a night. But, he’s saving himself for a championship run. Therefore, fewer minutes equals fewer points. I’ll bet LeBron is dominating the hypothetical points per minute category)

Siobhan Magnus – Through the Fire

I rarely know what the judges are talking about when they critique a performance. Terms like ‘pitchy’, ‘runs’, ‘vibrato’ and ‘connecting’ with a song mean nothing to me, but I can tell if a performance is good or not. And last night, Siobhan was not good. She crushed the high notes, but whenever she sang the part that wasn’t the chorus (melody?) she sounded terrible.

Plus, she’s a complete weirdo. Have you seen her interview packages? She has dead eyes. Siobhan reminds me of Hannibal Lecter. Watch the next time Seacrest talks to her. It’s terrifying. Hello, Clarice.

Casey James – Hold On, I’m Comin’

This song is terrific. It gets me pumped up every time I hear it. Plus, the title always brings out the thirteen year old boy in me: Hold On, I’m Comin’ (That’s what she said. Hiyoo!! Who am I kidding? I’ve never heard that).

Casey sang it very well, but something is always off with his performances. They lack pizzazz and a certain je ne sais quoi. Plus, he smiles way too much. It looks fake and more than a little creepy.

Michael Lynche – Ready for Love

I think he might be the dark horse to win it all. He’s a likeable guy with a terrific backstory and he’s proved to be the most competent of all the male singers week in and week out. Truthfully, that’s not saying much, but it just exemplifies how weak this year’s finalists are.

Didi Benami – What Becomes of the Broken-hearted

Unfortunately, I cannot give an unbiased account of Didi’s performance for two reasons: 1. I love this song so much that I watch the Youtube video of Jimmy Ruffin’s original at least twice a week. 2. As the lone hot chick in the competition, I want to have sex with Didi which clouds my judgement of her performances.

So, I thought Didi was excellent.

Tim Urban – Sweet Love

He’s basically Sanjaya, but better looking. What else can I say? How about: why was Usher wearing sunglasses indoors? Can you imagine how dark it must have been in the theatre and this idiot has sunglasses on? What a moron. I’ll bet he couldn’t see anything but shapes for the entire two hours.

Andrew Garcia – Forever

A solid performance, but the most memorable thing about Andrew last night was the preview shot of him before the commercial break leading into his song. From a distance, he was waving his hand wildly and effeminately at the camera. That, plus his glasses, made Andrew look actually retarded. I’m talking Sean Penn in I am Sam retarded. Hilarious stuff.

Katie Stevens – Chain of Fools

I like Katie. She can sing very well and appears to have a poise and maturity beyond her years. She’s also cute, bordering on hot. So much so that I looked up the age of consent in Canada for, you know, research purposes.

Hint: I’m in the clear.

Lee DeWyze – Treat Her Like a Lady

Now this was a great performance. It was the first time that Lee showed he has some semblance of personality on stage. I was thoroughly entertained throughout and, if he keeps it up, Lee has a chance to dethrone Big Mike as the top male in the competition.

Crystal Bowersox – Midnight Train to Georgia

Crystal consistently brings the goods every week. And I like how it appeared she showered for last night’s performance. Her hair also looked significantly less disgusting than usual. The hippie, earth-mother goddess look has never really done it for me.

She’s undoubtedly the most talented performer in the competition and will win the title with ease if the thirteen year old girls doing the voting get a fucking clue.

Aaron Kelly – Ain’t No Sunshine

I don’t understand the draw of this kid. He looks like an elf. I suppose Aaron can sing in tune, but I expect more from my American Idols. Like the ability to lift twenty-five pounds over your head.

A new rule should be instituted that contestants should have at least started puberty before they can audition for the show. As soon as Aaron’s balls drop, that singing voice is going to fly right out the window.

NBA Scoring Race Coming Down to the Wire

Now that I am in my twenties, I consider myself to be a somewhat intelligent, well-informed sports fan. No longer do I blindly follow Toronto professional sports teams with such complete admiration that I resemble a teenaged girl overheating at the mere mention of the jerkoffs from Twilight.

Trust me, it’s fantastic. Do you know how great it is to not care that the Toronto Maple Leafs, a once great and proud franchise, are no longer relevant in today’s NHL? I don’t have to lose sleep over the fact the team only has two players with more than fifteen goals (and one of them only has one testicle).

Similarly, back in the Vince Carter years, I lived and died with every Raptors game. Not anymore. I don’t care that the Raptors can barely attain mediocrity in a conference where half the teams should really be playing in the NBA’s developmental league.

Instead, I am now a fan of great players, regardless of which team they play for. It’s amazing; I am never disappointed. I get to appreciate transcendent performances on a nightly basis (much like the ladies I frequent with).

In the NBA, my allegiances start and end with LeBron James and Kobe Bryant. I will wade through ten minutes of shitty NHL and NBA highlights just for a glimpse of the King and Kobe.

My infatuation with LeBron brings me to today’s column topic; the terrific race between James and Kevin Durant for the NBA scoring title. Not including yesterday’s games, only fifteen points separated the pair with ten games remaining in the schedule.

James and Durant are an interesting juxtaposition as they both have disparate scoring styles. Durant is a pure sharpshooter. He has range from anywhere on the floor and can score points in bunches. No matter what you do, he is going to go for at least 20 points a night. The opposition’s only hope is to not let Durant get hot, lest he unload for 40 without breaking a sweat.

On the other hand, LeBron is a complete force of nature. He can’t shoot as well as Durant, but he is also a more complete player. He’s averaging seven rebounds and nine assists per game to go along with twenty-nine plus points.

Opposing teams can let Durant get his points and still win the game. Try to take LeBron out of the game and he will burn you with his passing prowess. It’s not an accident that the Cavaliers are the best team in the league.

At 6’8” and 250lbs with a point guard’s speed, LeBron is unstoppable when he kicks it into his top gear. He can literally get to the basket anytime he wants. He’s only 25 years old. He hasn’t even scratched the surface of what he’s ultimately capable of.

This is why I loved his answer when he asked about the scoring race last week. LeBron said, “If I really wanted to be the scoring champion every single year—every single year—I could really do it. It doesn’t matter.”

What a refreshingly candid answer by a professional athlete. James has unfairly taken a beating for these comments and I don’t understand why. He didn’t resort to unrestrained braggadocio or make disparaging remarks about his competitors like Terrell Owens or Chad Ochocinco would.

LeBron just gave a matter-of-fact reply to a question he was asked. I am of the belief that a statement cannot be considered cocky if it’s true. James wasn’t being arrogant or egotistical. He was stating a fact.

It’s true, he could win the scoring title every year if that was his ultimate goal, but it’s not. He wants to be known as a winner and a champion.

I'm an Idiot. Or Cheap. Possibly Both.

Excuse my language, but what a giant clusterfuck last night was. I had visions of a terrific March Madness podcast with CSzem where we would discuss his gambling problem and the NCAA tournament in general, complete with actual analysis of the four teams remaining.

Instead, the software program that I downloaded to record the podcasts decided to stop working for no apparent reason. There was no warning; no harbinger for the frustration that caused radiating waves of pain to shoot down the left side of my body. I could have at least used an error message. Something like “You are too stupid to operate this machine.” That I would have understood.

The oddest thing about the situation is that once I tried to record our conversation, CSzem could no longer hear me. I could hear him fine, but he couldn’t hear a word I said.

So, not only was last night’s podcast DOA, but our five minute preamble conversation setting up said podcast took place without the audio troubles that have plagued our previous efforts. Of course.

My lack of technical knowledge is severely limited, as I’ve articulated before on this blog, and CSzem isn’t much better. Truthfully, I don’t even want to explain the techniques we used to try to record the podcast last night because it’s much too embarrassing. I’m confident a four year old just learning how to use a computer would have looked at our efforts and said “You two are morons.”

I have come to the conclusion that, since the recording software was obtained with a free download, I was in some type of free trial period without my knowledge. The trial must be over and that is the reason why I can no longer record conversations.

I suppose that is just karma for me not wanting to pay for something. So, now I am forced to actually pay for a recording program. Any suggestions for ones that are good and don’t cost a lot of money? That second point is of the utmost importance. Do you know how much money I have in my wallet right now? 71 cents. That’s not a joke. It’s just the depressing reality of my life.

Actually, the more I think about it, something just doesn’t add up about the technical issues. It’s fine that I wasn’t able to record the conversation, but it doesn’t make sense that then I could hear CSzem, but he couldn’t hear me.

I bet he made the entire thing up!

That wouldn’t surprise me considering the verbal roasting I was planning on giving him for his March Madness ‘expertise.’

The only 'problem' last night was that my intrepid podcast guest was suffering from an acute bout of hubris. After attempting to flex some gambling muscle in his column on Wednesday, the Madness has chewed CSzem up and spit him out.

Do you realize that for all his blustering about point spreads and in-depth dissections of various schools, CSzem only correctly picked one team to make it to the Final Four (Duke)? I, on the other hand, picked teams based on seeding and where I would go to school. I ended up correctly picking two entrants to the Final Four (West Virginia and Michigan State).

How embarrassing that must be for him. No wonder he didn’t want to record a podcast last night.

I would love for CSzem to defend himself in the comment section. He owes an explanation to all of you.

For those readers needing their podcast fix, fear not. I have a very special Easter Weekend podcast(s?) planned and it (they?) will not disappoint. I want to keep the guest list and discussion topics quiet for now, but I will allow CSzem a few minutes to redeem himself with his Final Four picks.