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.
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.
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.
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.
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