(BOD - Beverly Mahood)
Last night was a night of firsts.
No, not that kind of first. This lasted way longer than 37 seconds and the young lady involved actually enjoyed herself.
I went to a Dave and Buster’s and got the shit kicked out of me at a variety of arcade games by a member of the fairer sex. It was completely emasculating; although, to listen to AG and He Who Hits Bombs pretty much ‘sext’ each other in the comments section, that ship has already sailed.
Now, in my defence, I have never been one to play video games. I think they are a complete waste of time. Thus, my lack of playing time causes me to be terrible at them; especially if they require you to press more than one button at a time. You put me on the original Nintendo and I will dominate. On the other hand, I can’t even figure out how to start a game on the Xbox.
Not only did she pump me in the video arcade, but she crushed, and I mean crushed, me in a legitimate free throw shooting competition. That was tough for me to take. I don’t like losing in sports, especially to someone with two X chromosomes. The only game I was able to redeem myself on was the football throwing contest.
I dominated that event. I was like Brett Favre out there. I purposely eschewed the high percentage passes in favour of chucking up long bombs. My strategy worked too. Although, I completed less than fifty percent of my passes I managed to score two touchdowns in two minutes. Now that’s what I call a 2 minute drill.
After my beatdown was over and I was nursing my sorrows with a beer, I happened to glance up at the sports ticker. The ticker was running through the Wimbledon scores and I saw the following: 6-4, 3-6, 6-7 (7), 7-6 (3), 59-59.
What?
I thought for a second I was hallucinating. Or maybe the tears from my defeat were stinging my eyes. Two guys were tied at 59-59 in the fifth set of a Grand Slam? It was hard to process mentally.
John Isner and Nicolas Mahut have played each other for over ten hours over two days. Their fifth set, already a robust seven hours and six minutes old, would, in itself, be the longest match in tennis history.
It’s amazing that these two players are still upright after playing for such an epic length of time. To put it into perspective, in Cuba, Gretzpo and I played our tennis/squash mix for approximately two hours a day for our entire week’s vacation. And we were wrecked physically from that ordeal. I can’t imagine what Isner and Mahut are going through right now.
The happiest person in England right now has to be the guy who gets to play the winner of this marathon. There’s no way either of these guys will have anything left in the tank to continue on in the tournament.
This is the last column of the week. Early tomorrow, Gretzpo and I embark on a pilgrimage to Philadelphia to worship at the altar of Doc Halladay. The G20 isn’t going to stop me from seeing Roy up close and personal. There also may be a Rocky spoof in the works, along with a special roadtrip podcast.
See you on Monday.
(BOD - Ashlee Simpson)
For the first time in my life, I planned my day around watching a soccer game. From the moment I woke up in the morning, I kept reminding myself to tune into Argentina’s final round robin game (notice I said round robin; GFY CSzem).
Sure, my lack of full time employment makes such an attempt possible, but it’s a valiant effort for someone who has never watched more than five minutes of consecutive soccer before this June.
So, I switched on the game right around 2:30pm and within minutes, I quickly became disappointed. My new favourite (make that only favourite) player, Jonas Gutierrez, was not in the starting lineup. How did I know this? Well, I would have recognized that hair and tight jersey anywhere.
I almost stopped watching immediately, but then quickly remembered that Maradona is still the coach of the squad and I took comfort in his fantastic reaction shots and all around combustible personality.
But where was Captain Jack Gutierrez?
I went directly to my sports oracle for the skinny on Jonas’ alarming absence. CSzem informed that he may have received a yellow card in a previous game and Maradona decided to rest the star for fear of getting a red. Or they were just resting him in general as Argentina was virtually assured of winning their group.
I can understand the decision from a managerial standpoint, but Maradona should really think of casual fans like myself and put his best squad on the field at all times to ensure the maximum enjoyment of television audience.
What did I think of the game?
Honestly, without an offensive-minded, creative squad like Argentina and without the histrionics of Maradona, I would have wanted to kill myself. Anytime Greece had the ball, I found myself looking around the room, searching for some paint to dry. Greece had no interest in matching Argentina’s aggressive style.
I can only imagine what it would be like to watch two teams play mind-numbingly boring soccer like that. I assume that’s what hell is like.
I sincerely think the flair of the Argentina squad and the genius of Lionel Messi are the only reasons why I’m able to watch in the first place. I mean I was entertained and I could appreciate pure athleticism and skill but, outside of the World Cup, I would hardly consider soccer to be appointment viewing.
That got me thinking of where soccer will ultimately end up on my sports radar (which is a victory in itself because even deep sea sonar wouldn’t have registered soccer on the list of sports I moderately care about as little as four weeks ago).
As I touched on in the podcast, I ultimately think soccer will assume a position beside Olympic curling and skiing in terms of my getting behind the sport. I don’t give a shit about skiing or curling in a non-Olympic setting. Anytime I see either sport on weekend afternoons on CBC, I can’t change the channel fast enough.
However, I am mesmerized by both sports during the Olympics. I think soccer will end up on the same level. I’ll pick a World Cup team once every four years to follow but, other than that, I will have zero interest in the sport.
I can’t see myself getting jacked up for a Toronto FC game, without first serving up my manhood on a silver platter to the estrogen police. So, all of you soccer fans better get your fill in the next two weeks because Talkin’ with Tewks’ soccer coverage will disappear at the conclusion of the World Cup.
Then you’ll have to wait until 2014 for the game to warrant a mention on here again. Actually, if I’m still writing this blog in the same capacity in four years, then I’ll have much bigger problems than soccer to worry about.
(BOD - Miranda Kerr)
I am literally shaking in anticipation of what Kasey will do next. Great comments as always last week, let’s keep them coming. Props to Patty for continuing to drum up support for my candidacy as a future contestant. I can already out-baseball Roberto and out-cry the Weatherman, so it’s about time Tewks unleashed his fury on one lucky bachelorette.
8:00 – Another full house tonight. I’m joined by Mama, Sister and Cousin Tewks. Let the insanity begin.
8:02 – “Are you willing to do that?” – Kasey in reference to his tattoo. No, Kasey, I’m not willing to do that because I’m not a fucking moron.
8:05 – Love poems. Are you shitting me? What’s next? A guitar sing-off? Kasey’s already recited at least six terrible poems so far this season. I bet he’s trying to figure out what rhymes with ‘guard’ and ‘protect’.
8:07 – Chris N with some camera time!! That was so exciting.
8:12 – “I’ll be able to see her heart and she’ll be able to see mine.” I’m confused. Is Kasey planning on dissecting Ali on their next date?
8:15 – “I’ve got my shield ready to go.” Now, I’m really confused. Does Kasey think he’s in 300?
8:16 – Let’s give Chris N a break. It’s the first time he’s spoken in three weeks.
8:17 – “Ohhhhhhhh” – Cousin Tewks in appreciation of Kirk’s poem. The steak dinner we just had certainly didn’t make him any straighter.
8:25 – I would love to go sweater shopping with Kirk. Wait, I mean Ali.
8:28 – Rated R and Kasey on the 2 on 1 date? That is fantastic. Almost like Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant at Wrestlemania III.
8:35 – Kirk’s story sounds like a case for Dr. House. He would have diagnosed that shit in 42 minutes plus commercials.
8:38 – Kasey can take the physical pain. Yeah, you’re a tough guy, mister fancy pants, with your cute little tattoo.
8:46 – “How do you guys feel about going down there?” I’ll go down, Ali. Oh, you mean in the cave. Never mind, I’m good.
8:56 – All of the blood in my body flowed directly to my nether regions when Ali stripped down to that bikini. My God. That was the greatest moment in the history of this program. That should win an Emmy.
8:58 – If I was Ty, I’d be trying to undo her bathing suit top right now.
9:02 – Ali is HAMMERED with Frank right now. This is hilarious. He should be taking advantage of her ASAP.
9:03 – She’s so drunk!
9:09 – Exactly how big is the helicopter budget on this show?
9:13 – Rated R think he’s on a game show. He’s in it for the competition and that’s it.
9:20 – Just show her the fucking tattoo already!!
9:22 – Ali is terrified of Kasey. She has had that fake smile plastered to her face for the last five minutes.
9:23 – “Here’s a piece of me I want to share with you.” In Kasey’s defence, I would probably say the same thing to Ali, but we’d be referring to different organs.
9:25 – Ali’s crying solely because she’s terrified that Kasey’s going to throw himself off the glacier.
9:27 – Justin’s a tool too. Yeah, we get it. You’re an unsuccessful professional wrestler without a future in the business. Give it a rest already.
9:34 – What look does Ali want in a man? Unbridled enthusiasm mixed with a serial killer’s zeal?
9:35 – Great move by Craig R with the fake tattoo. Funny and topical. Well done, sir.
9:36 – Chris N is awful. How the hell has he made it this far? That was excruciating to watch.
9:40 – “Roberto’s got some nice dimple action.” Surprisingly, Mama Tewks, not Cousin Tewks, said that.
9:47 – Harrison needs to spice up these interviews. I want the last five minutes of my life back.
9:53 – “Are you kidding me?” – Mama Tewks, when Frank got the rose. She really hates him with a passion. I think it’s the glasses. Or maybe the beady, little eyes. Or the terrible personality.
9:55 – Chris N is like the T-1000 from Terminator 2. He can’t compute human emotion.
9:56 – “I’m at a loss for words, to be honest.” And Chris N perfectly encapsulated his Bachelorette experience in one sentence.
9:57 – “It’s only going to get harder.” That’s what she said.
The scenes from next week look incredible.
What did you think? Post thoughts to comments.
(BOD - Candice Swanepoel)
I have to hand it to CSzem. His passion for such a wussy sport is really starting to rub off on me. I am following Argentina with a fervour and I actually contributed to this week's podcast with soccer questions and comments instead of just mailing it in and pretending to listen to what CSzem has to say.
Some highlights from today's podcast:
- More Argentina love
- Unveiling my mancrush on Argentine defender Jonas Gutierrez
- Comparing Lionel Messi to Daniel LaRusso at the beginning of The Karate Kid
- Discussing the pitfalls and benefits of dating Diego Maradona's daughter
- Adoration for the World Cup referees
- Condeming soccer players for their incessant diving
- Bringing red and yellow cards into other sports and life
- Vuvuzelas
- Determining when Miley Cyrus turns 18
Talkin' with Tewks Live: World Cup #2
Enjoy.
Posts
