Hot for Student?

Once again, CSzem really stepped up to the plate and provided more fantastic commentary on The Bachelor. I implore anyone who is a fan of the show to check out the Vegas odds and his thoughts on the remaining ladies.

Truthfully, Entertainment Weekly or a website of that ilk should really start paying us to recap this show. By dissecting each episode from a male’s perspective, we are providing insight that is impossible to find on typical, estrogen-fest message boards.

Here’s my public offer to CSzem. When The Bachelor airs the episode with the overnight or hometown dates (the final four?), we should do a podcast the next day to discuss it. Now, I’m not nearly smart enough to know how to do a podcast, but if you can figure out the technology, we need to make this happen. It’s time to bring this blog into the 21st century. Is there a better way to start than by talking about The Bachelor for thirty minutes on a Tuesday morning? I don’t think so.

Let me know your thoughts, CSzem.

Today, I wanted to discuss an issue that has vexed me for some time. On the front page of the Toronto Star, there is an article accusing an elementary school teacher of having a sexual relationship with a student.

Unfortunately, incidents like this are not uncommon. What I find unusual about this story is the characters involved. Usually, an inappropriate sexual relationship between an adult and a minor involves an older man and a young girl.

This is because men are disgusting perverts. Also, some men become enamoured with the eroticization of young girls. Basically, it’s the Lolita effect. Why do you think Britney Spears and Anna Kournikova were so popular when they first burst onto the scene? Here were two young, very attractive girls that looked and dressed like women, but were minors.

The horndogs in the mainstream media covered those two incessantly and it wasn’t because they were talented. This is also the reason why there were a number of websites devoted to a countdown of the Olsen Twins’ 18th birthday. The lesson: men are pigs.

What I don’t understand is the sexual relationships where the adult is female and child is male. Seeing a woman prey on a minor seems completely out of character.

So, I think of the reasons why adults would try to coerce a minor into having sex in the first place. Most likely, they do this because they are unable to attract members of the opposite sex in their own age bracket. They go for a child to use their position of authority to get what they want. That makes sense from a creepy old dude’s perspective.

Typically, women don’t have that problem. If a woman really wants a man, she can get one. I don’t care how ugly or homely she is, somewhere there is a guy who will sleep with her. So, for any inappropriate relationship between a woman and a boy, the woman must be a dog, right?

This where the Toronto Star story is so confusing: the teacher in question is a babe. A total cougar. Why does she need to have sex with a student? Why go after a prepubescent boy when you could have a virile stud like Tewks?

Does the kid in question have an unparalleled game? How did he pull this off? I need more information.

I couldn’t get girls my own age to sleep with me in school, let alone a smoking hot teacher. I probably would have gotten much better grades if I had a proverbial carrot like that dangling in front of me.

Cheers to education.

Tewks Files for Arbitration

I really wish real life gave people an option to file for arbitration. What a fantastic tool to have at one’s disposal when looking for greater compensation. For example, I don’t think I am compensated well enough for the limited and ineffective work I actually do. I should be able to take the people who give me money to an arbitration court to plead my case.

Basically, I would have to convince the arbitrator that I am worthy of an exorbitant amount of money, while my employers would try to lowball me and tell the arbitrator how bad I am at everything I do.

The arbitrator would then choose between our offers and award me the salary deemed most reflective of my talents and abilities. All I have to do is sweet talk an arbitrator and then I’ll get what I want? Piece of cake. I’d just show up to the arbitration hearing without a shirt on (maybe greased up with some massage oil) and the arbitrator, man or woman, would have no choice but to side with Tewks.

Arbitration is most prevalent in Major League Baseball. Players eligible to file for arbitration are those who do not yet have enough years of service to test the free agent waters.

Shaun Marcum filed for arbitration and reached a deal with Blue Jays general manager, Alex Anthopolous, before attending an arbitration hearing. That’s another positive benefit of arbitration. Most teams don’t want to go through the hassle of appearing before an arbitrator, so they work to get a deal done ASAP.

Marcum signed a one year deal for $850,000. Last year he made $400,520. How many innings did Marcum pitch for the Jays in the 2009 season? Zero.

I’m confused.

Marcum got a one hundred percent raise and he didn’t even play last year. Does he have naked pictures of Anthopolous clubbing a baby seal or something? How the hell do you give a guy who did nothing all year more money?

I may not be a business mogul, but I’m fairly certain that you shouldn’t double someone’s salary when zero services have been rendered. That would be analogous to a book publisher telling me the following:

“Tewks, I know you’ve never written a book before. But, your book has a possibility of being really good. Therefore, instead of us publishing the manuscript and giving you a percentage of total sales, a low risk option, we’re going to give you a $1 million advance instead.”

Actually, you know what. That’s exactly what should happen. Forget I said anything.

The Bachelor . . .

Jake has finally become a man, and not a moment too soon.

But first, when I saw him hyperventilating and practically in tears before the bungee jump, I almost stopped watching the show entirely. It was excruciating to watch. At one point, he had his arm around the bungee jump guy and his head buried in Vienna’s shoulder.

It was one of the most emasculating things I have ever seen in my life. At that moment, I sincerely believe Jake’s penis reverted into itself and became a rudimentary vagina. Just a sickening display.

However, Jake completely redeemed himself in the second hour. Crazy Michelle was pulling her regular Fatal Attraction-like mating ritual when she basically forced Jake to kiss her. Then, she admonished him for not kissing her passionately enough. Jake just sat there and took the abuse. Next, Michelle, for the second time, threatened to leave, but said she would stay “if Jake asked her to.”

What happened?

Jake magically grew a spine. He became as angry as his boring personality would allow and told Michelle to hit the road in the middle of a group date. It was fantastic. The other women practically climaxed at Jake’s first display of testosterone.

Jake’s transformation to a real man was complete with the smackdown he laid on Elizabeth. Once again, she tried to play games by asking for a back rub, getting all touchy feely, and saying how she wanted to kiss him. But, she refused to kiss him.

Jake finally called bullshit. He correctly determined Elizabeth was a tease and said so to her face. He told her he wasn’t going to put up with her shit anymore. She, as a moron, incorrectly assumed Jake was pissed because she wouldn’t kiss him.

No. He was pissed because you were trying to play games and be a bitch. I was literally yelling at the TV screen during this segment. It’s a good thing I am not the bachelor. I would have sent that broad home in tears. Scorched earth policy.

Jake sent Elizabeth packing and put the rest of the ladies on notice; any bullshit and you’re history. This season just got a little more interesting.

My new top 3:

1. Ali
2. Tenley
3. Ashleigh

Next week I am writing a live recap of the show. It’s going to be historic.

D-D-Dirty Sanchez and the Jets

I have no idea what I did to draw the ire of the New York Jets organization, but they are making it their personal mission to make me look like an idiot this winter.

For the second week in a row, a Jets unfathomable victory stopped me from posting a 3-1 record in my playoff picks. As it is, I am 4-4 heading into the conference championships next weekend.

New York certainly has some tremendous momentum heading into the AFC championship. Plus, they’ve been on the receiving of a number of fortuitous breaks that makes me think otherworldly forces are at play in their recent success.

As we all know, “destiny has never won a gold medal” and “with five seconds left, destiny panics”, but there is something (fate?) that is helping the Jets along in this improbable playoff run.

New York shouldn’t have been in the playoffs in the first place. They had to win the final two games of the regular season against the 14-0 Colts and the Cincinnati Bengals just to be considered for a playoff spot.

What happened?

Indy took a dive by playing their second string quarterback in the last twenty minutes of the game, allowing the New York to squeak out a come from behind victory. It’s not like New York even played that well. The Colts QB, Curtis Painter, laid an egg of epic proportions. He literally looked he had never played the game of football before. I wouldn’t trust the guy to parallel park my car, let alone run an NFL offence.

Then, the Bengals tanked the regular season finale, barely putting up a fight in a dominating Jets victory. Even with both of those cheap victories, New York still needed some other AFC teams to lose so the Jets could leapfrog them in the standings. Of course that happened, and the Jets earned a wildcard playoff berth against those same Bengals.

The Jets played well in their playoff victory over the Cincinnati, but they were aided by two field goal misses by Cincinnati’s kicker. And the misses weren’t even close or from an imposing distance. They were two complete shanks from a distance regularly eclipsed by ten year olds girls in the NFL’s Punt, Pass and Kick competition.

The same script was written against the Chargers last night. San Diego’s kicker, Nate Kaeding, missed THREE field goals. How is that possible? That is fifteen points that New York’s playoff opponents have left off the board in two games.

Is the Jets field goal defensive unit that intimidating? If I was Matt Stover, the Colts kicker, I would have trouble sleeping all week. What is it about the Jets that makes kickers even bigger pussies and head cases than normal?

Dirty Sanchez played worse than he did against the Bengals, but still found a way to lead his team to victory. Say what you want about the kid (he sucks), but he flat out wins football games. In his first postseason, he has already won more playoff games than Joe Namath did in his entire career (Wow. How overrated was Broadway Joe?).

Jets head coach, Rex Ryan, has supreme confidence in his team that borders on outright arrogance. That attitude has obviously rubbed off on his charges as New York is playing with the swagger of a Super Bowl contender. Some media members have derided Ryan for being too cocky.

Who gives a shit? I think that’s a great attitude. He’s not disparaging other teams and he’s instilling a belief in his team that they can do the impossible. And so far, they have.

Divisional Playoffs

I had planned on making today’s foray into journalistic excellence solely about sports and the NFL divisional playoffs. Alas, that is not possible as the most compelling Jersey Shore episode ever aired last night. Not surprisingly, The Situation was heavily featured throughout.

So, what I’m going to do is partition my previews of each playoff game with my thoughts on the greatest show in the history of television. Plus, this will allow some readers to call me a homo for watching such crap, while still getting their sports fix.

Arizona Cardinals vs. New Orleans Saints

This game will actually have a chance of eclipsing the all-time points record set in the Cardinals game against the Packers last week. You have two great quarterbacks playing in a dome against suspect defences. I am expecting a shootout.

Arizona comes into the game on a roll (eerily similar to last season) while the Saints, after an unbelievable start, limped to the finish line. To pick the winner in this contest, I am going to unveil my patented playoff picking algorithm. All other things being equal, always pick the team that has the best looking quarterback.

Drew Brees has a receding hairline, a misshapen head and pasty skin. Kurt Warner has the symmetrical facial features and strong jaw line that instils confidence in subordinates and is indicative of a leader of men (much like myself).

The Pick: Arizona

Snooki was put through the emotional wringer this week. At the beginning of the episode, she let the audience know of her existential quandary in coming to the Jersey Shore house. Apparently, Snooki is studying to become a veterinary assistant at community college (which is like high school, but with more casual sex and binge drinking).

She was forced to skip her last semester of school to live at the Jersey Shore for the summer. Snooki was pretty broken up by her decision, but the meathead farm boy she was with last night shed some light on the situation (pun not intended) for her. He said that Snooki shouldn’t regret her decision because “the biggest risk in life is not taking a risk.”

She went on an MTV television show for Christ’s sake! She didn’t make the decision to go build a school in Africa. She decided to drink and party for eight week while the cameras rolled. Get a fucking grip on reality.

Baltimore Ravens vs. Indianapolis Colts

The Ravens thoroughly beat down the Patriots last week. The Colts extinguished their tremendous momentum by crapping the bed in the final two games of the season.

But, I really don’t see how Indy can lose this game. In fact, I am making it my lock of the week. Peyton Manning is on a mission this year. He wants to add a second Super Bowl ring to his fourth MVP trophy. This is his game to lose.

The Pick: Indianapolis

Is Jwoww an actual whore? I seriously cannot tell the difference between her and a regular prostitute based on her choice of clothing. I’m pretty sure most hookers would consider Jwoww’s wardrobe to be too revealing. She doesn’t even wear full articles of clothing; most of her stuff appears to be pieces of cloth clinging perilously to her fake breasts.

Sammy and Ron are the most annoying couple on TV. She is a soul-sucking girlfriend. Sammy makes me slowly lose my will to live and I only spend one hour a week with her. I can’t imagine what her insanity is doing to poor Ronnie.

Although, it now makes sense why he fights all the time; he has to take that anger out on someone. They fight, break-up and then makeup at least twice an episode. It’s horrible.

Dallas Cowboys vs. Minnesota Vikings

The Cowboys are going to reek of ‘happy to be here’ status on Sunday afternoon. Last week was their first playoff win since 1996, so expect them to have an emotional letdown.

Is there any way the Vikings lose a playoff game at home? I don’t think so.

Truthfully, this preview could be written with just two words. It’s pretty obvious who is winning this game:

Brett Favre.

The Pick: Vikings

I really enjoyed the house dinner in Atlantic City. The Situation, self-described as the “man of house” (what house is he living in?), proceeded to insult everyone at the table to prove himself worthy of Alpha Dog status. Snooki misguidedly attempted to engage The Situation in a battle of wits (and I use that term very loosely).

She got off a few good zingers, but The Situation put her in her place when he indirectly said she was fat. Sure it was a low blow, but if Snooki can’t take the heat, she should get out of the kitchen. It’s not fair that she can ridicule The Situation, but if he fires back, then he’s the asshole.

The stupidity of the entire argument was perfectly encapsulated by Sammy. She remarked that The Situation “didn’t even have the audacity to apologize to Snooki” for calling her fat.

What?

When the smartest person in the house doesn’t know the meaning of simple words, then you know you are dealing with transcendent television.

New York Jets vs. San Diego Chargers

There’s no way in hell Dirty Sanchez can replicate his performance from last weekend. He is going to leave a skidmark of epic proportions in San Diego Sunday night.

I would say the Jets have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning this game, but that would be unfair to the snowball. The Chargers have won 11 games in a row. Rex Ryan, the Jets head coach, thought his team was eliminated from playoff contention three weeks ago.

The Pick: San Diego

The Situation, Pauly D and Vinny all talk about how they pick up such hot chicks. It might be my TV screen, but every girl they’ve hooked up with is BRUTAL. I mean ugly, ugly.

These guys need to develop some standards.

Why did Jwoww need The Situation to walk her home from the bar? She was perfectly cogent and The Situation had his hands full with that ‘model’. Also, Pauly D was sitting right there too. I think The Situation gets a bad rap from his housemates.

There wouldn’t be a show without The Situation.

Want to Play Hockey in the CIS? Become a Convicted Felon

There was some excellent discourse provided by my avid readers in yesterday’s comments section. I have nothing to add, but I’m pleased I was able to catalyze such passionate, well-informed debate.

Mike Danton, former NHL player and the mastermind behind a failed murder-for-hire plot, has been given permission to attend Saint Mary’s University in Halifax and play on the varsity hockey team.

Wow.

Let’s tackle the ten ton ex-con elephant in the room first. I am all for giving people who have made mistakes a second chance; that is the point of the correctional system. If correctional officials believe a convict is rehabilitated, then that person has every right to be given the opportunity to become a functional member of society. Otherwise, we should just gas every person currently in prison and save the tax dollars.

“Rehabilitated? To me, it's just a made-up word, a politician's word so that young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and have a job . . . So you go on and stamp your forms, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.”

I have no problem with Mike Danton going to university for an education; good for him. I am slightly concerned that he is being allowed to play on the hockey team. Hockey, and a perverse relationship with the creepy David Frost, is what led Danton down such a destructive path in the first place.

If I’m a parent of an eighteen year old kid playing hockey at Saint Mary’s, do I really want my boy in the same dressing room as Danton? For some insane reason, Danton still does not hold any ill will towards David Frost, a man accused of sexual impropriety with teenagers back in the mid 1990s.

How do we know Frost won’t be poking around the rink in the next few weeks?

I’m not sure if playing hockey is the best course of action for Mike Danton at this point.

The other issue is that some people don’t think that Danton, at 29 and with NHL experience, should be allowed to play Canadian university hockey. The CIS is not as stringent as the NCAA when it comes to eligibility and I think that’s a great quirk of Canadian college sports.

If a twenty-nine year old wants to play, he should be allowed to play. It’s as simple as that. If he’s taking courses and is registered as a student, then more power to him.

And yes, I’m just agreeing with the CIS regulations because I plan to make a university baseball comeback when I’m thirty and relive all of my post secondary glory. I may even try to live in residence.

I loved the quote from Saint Mary’s Athletic Director, Steve Sarty, who said that Danton won’t be suiting up for the Huskies right away, instead “it’s more important for us to get him acclimatized to school, used to the routine.”

Bullshit.

Like Saint Mary’s gives two shits about Danton’s education. They admitted him as a student to help them win the CIS championship and that’s it. I am actually pretty curious to see how many points Danton can score in half a season.

Can he lead the league? Will he have a mental episode? Will he team up with Alex Burrows and try to get an unfair referee killed?

Stay tuned.

When Did the NHL Turn into Grade School Recess?

It’s a telling commentary when the only comment posted on an article about Mark McGwire’s steroid use refers solely to a two paragraph discussion on The Bachelor.

Does this mean that the entire issue of performance enhancing drugs has reached its tipping point? Have people stopped caring about this? Or does everyone just assume that all players in MLB in the 1990s and early 2000s were on the juice?

Kudos to C-Szem for posting an excellent comment. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in liking The Bachelor way more than any straight man should. I love his running diary idea; however, I need to wait until more girls are eliminated and I’m left with a more manageable number. I don’t know who four of the girls are on his Vegas odds list. When we’re down to ten ladies, I’ll do it.

Also, C-Szem, I take umbrage to your declaration that you would eliminate Ashleigh, regardless of how hot she looked in her bikini, because she interrupted a conversation.

I’m calling bullshit. Next time, don’t let your wife proofread your comment before you post.

Alex Burrows is a whiny, little bitch.

I can’t believe this story is even news, but it’s made me so upset hearing about it, I feel compelled to give my take. Burrows, of the Vancouver Canucks, has accused a National Hockey League referee of calling penalties against him as payback for being shown up in a previous game.

That is the most ridiculous statement I have heard in a long time. Do you really think a referee is going to jeopardize his livelihood to ‘get back’ at some piece of shit winger no one outside of Vancouver has ever heard of?

I’m going to tell Alex Burrows the same thing Jake Taylor told Rick Vaughn, after Vaughn accused Roger Dorn of tanking a play on purpose in the first Major League: “This isn’t the California Penal League, Vaughn, we’re professionals. We don't tank plays for personal reasons, so cut the cry baby shit!”

It’s asinine that the NHL is forced to investigate this matter in the first place. Burrows has a long history of whining and complaining to referees and is well-known for taking dives. He’s indicting the referee in question for marring the integrity of the game? Burrows should think of that the next time he flops all over the ice.

Did you see Burrows’ interview on Monday explaining his side of the story? He was getting so worked up and excited, he was struggling to construct coherent sentences. At one point, I actually thought he was going to start crying. Watching that travesty, I felt like the principal of a middle school listening to a girl tell me how another girl was mean to her during recess.

Here is an approximate transcript of the interview:

“Um, like, this guy was like totally mean to me and stuff. He told me that, like, he was going to, you know, ‘get me’. Then he totally called two penalties on me that so weren’t penalties. Like, OMG. Like, I don’t think that ref, should be allowed to, you know, ref anymore. It’s not really fair to me. I can’t believe I got fined. Like Hello? Whatev. Like, I totally don’t care anyway. TTFN.”

(Please don’t ask how I know what twelve year old girls sound like. I went out for a beer with Eric Tillman and then some stuff happened. I don’t want to talk about it.)

Say It Ain't So, Big Mac

A shocking revelation took the baseball world by storm last night. Mark McGwire, Major League Baseball’s former single season home run king, admitted to taking performance enhancing drugs during his climb up the all time home run list in the mid to late 1990s.

I can’t believe it. This is Mark McGwire we’re talking about here. He of the tree trunk like biceps and with a chest the size of a Volkswagen. He’s the last guy I would ever expect to have been abusing steroids.

Bullshit.

In other news, the sky has been determined to be blue.

McGwire’s twenty minute mea culpa was such a load of crap. The transcript of his statement to the media is inundated with words like ‘apologize’, ‘sorry’, ‘foolish’ and ‘mistake’. Sorry Big Mac, but the purpose of coming clean is so transparent, your entire tearful apology reeks of insincerity.

First of all, he is not sorry for making millions of dollars and hitting all of those home runs. Nor is he sorry for deceiving his legions of fans for the past decade. He IS sorry for having his hand forced to admit all of his past transgressions.

This apology is just the first step in McGwire’s sickeningly obvious master plan. He wants to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. Evidenced by his desultory vote totals over the past four years, the dream wasn’t coming to fruition with Big Mac keeping his mouth shut and staying out of the public eye.

Therefore, he decided to accept the hitting coach position with the St. Louis Cardinals as a way for him to get back into the game and, hopefully, the good graces of the baseball writers. The only way he could accept the position was to admit his past ‘mistakes’. Also, he naively believes that coming clean will force the Hall of Fame voters to reconsider his case.

Sorry, Mark, but you were never a good enough player to be in the Hall of Fame. Without steroids, you were just a shitty player who could hit the ball out of the ballpark at a decent frequency. Steroids made you Big Mac.

On the other hand, guys like Barry Bonds, A-Rod and Manny will be inducted into Cooperstown regardless of their PED use. They were great players before they started juicing.

My two favourite parts from McGwire’s speech:

1. He points to a rash of injuries as being the catalyst for taking steroids. I’m not a medical doctor, but the whole point of steroids is to build extreme muscle mass, at the expense of your tendons, bones and ligaments. You are more susceptible to injuries after you take steroids. Nice try though, Mark.

2. McGwire says he’s going to “do everything I can to help the Cardinals hitters become the best players for years to come. Even if that means injecting syringe needles into their asses before games” (Ok, I made up half of that quote but, be honest, it’s hard to tell which part, isn’t it?)

Since I’m discussing artificial aids to help performance, I think it’s apt to quickly discuss last night’s episode of The Bachelor (there was enough silicone on my TV screen to power, uh, a lot of stuff for which silicone is used for? Something to do with computers? I really should have researched silicone before I made that joke).

My new short list of favourites is Ali, Ashleigh (when she strolled up to Jake in that black bikini, I may have lost consciousness for a minute or two), Tenley and Elizabeth.

However, I am wavering on Elizabeth. I actually liked her rule that she won’t kiss Jake unless she’s the last remaining girl. I can respect that and it would have had me intrigued. I also would have given her a rose.

That being said, when she started playing silly buggers and asked Jake if he wanted to kiss her, and told him she was a great kisser, and planted her face six inches away from him, I started getting pissed off. I don’t like games. If Jake had any semblance of testosterone, he would have manned up and told her to stop fucking around.

I would have taken her rose back and then thrown her off a roller coaster.

John Madden's Got Nothing on Tewks

I am a football genius.

Sure, I may have only gone 2-2 in my picks over the weekend, but even in the games where I erroneously picked the winner, my prognostications were essentially correct.

(I love how He Who Hits Bombs took time out of his busy schedule of touching himself and playing online poker to point out that I was 0-1 after Saturday’s early game. Also, how long is he going to keep bringing up his 2006 Ontario Batting Title? There has to be some sort of statute of limitations on such braggadocio. What have you done for me lately?)

What did Tewks say was of utmost importance for a team to win games in the postseason?

1. A quarterback who doesn’t completely suck and doesn’t kill his team with turnovers

2. A great run game

3. A stingy defence

Dirty Sanchez gave the Jets perfectly serviceable quarterback play. He wasn’t flashy, but he didn’t do anything stupid. Sanchez made short, smart passes and let his run game take care of the rest. Carson Palmer completed less than 50% of his passes and also threw an interception.

I’m going to be honest. I tried to watch this game, but it was just too boring. Neither team deserved to be in the playoffs in the first place. Dirty Sanchez and the J-E-T-S will get demolished by the Chargers next weekend.

The Philadelphia Eagles held up their end of my prediction for a low scoring game. Chunky Soup may well be the “soup that eats like a meal”, but it doesn’t win football games in January.

I think Tony Romo had an “I’m Keith Hernandez” moment on Saturday night. Remember the episode of Seinfeld when Keith Hernandez is dating Elaine and he’s nervous to kiss her after their date? He pumps himself up by running through his stats in his head and vocalizes that he’s Keith Hernandez. He then goes in for the kill and undoubtedly slips Ms. Benes the tongue. Elaine internally wonders, “Who does this guy think he is?” Answer: “I’m Keith Hernandez”.

I’ll bet Tony Romo was warming up on the field before the game and was probably a little nervous. But, then the following went through his mind: “I have intimate knowledge of both Carrie Underwood and Jessica Simpson’s lady parts. Being at the precipice of such earthly delights is way more nerve-wracking than a silly little football game. I’m Tony Romo.”

I was completely right about the Baltimore/New England game, except that I was wrong about which quarterback was going to blow it. Jesus, Tom Brady was terrible. You could tell that his garter was all twisted up from the first play of the game. Three INTs and a fumble? Way to lay an egg, Tommy Boy.

Joe Flacco wasn’t very good either, but he only had one turnover instead of four (Please see item #1 above). And the Ravens had 234 rushing yards (item #2).

Last night’s contest was the best game of the year, hands down. Both offences came out firing. Kurt Warner and Aaron Rodgers showed the rest of the wildcard quarterbacks how the position is supposed to be played.

I predicted 103 points to be scored and was only off by seven. I guarantee no paid football observer was as close as I was. Yes, the final score was a little closer than I expected, but here’s what I think happened.

God, I mean Brett Favre, was willing his boy Kurt and the Cards to victory at the beginning of the game (evidenced by Arizona’s lightning fast start and seventeen point lead). But, then Favre figured the game was out of hand, so he put on a pair of Wrangler jeans and went outside to play touch football with his Labrador Retriever.

His Holiness didn’t come back inside until the beginning of overtime and promptly stuck a pin into the right hand of his Aaron Rodger’s voodoo doll.

To recap, I am 2-2 thus far in the postseason with seven games remaining. And I’m just getting warmed up.

Wildcard Weekend

My interest in the NFL begins in earnest this weekend, with the first round of the playoffs taking place on both Saturday and Sunday. With four games scheduled, it’s a great time to be a fan of the National Football League.

My last NFL playoff preview was an overwhelming success, so I figured I'd take a dip in that pool again.

As always, zero research and a severe lack of football knowledge has been used to make these picks. However, I just finished second in a US College Bowl pool, so my half-baked, ill-informed opinions must count for something.

New York Jets vs. Cincinnati Bengals

Normally, success in the playoffs depends on the ability of the quarterback. He doesn’t necessarily have to be good (How else did the Baltimore Ravens win the Super Bowl with Trent Dilfer?), he just can’t be terrible. Poor passing stats and a noodle arm don’t kills teams, interceptions and turnovers do.

If the quarterback can hang onto the ball and not do anything stupid, a good run game and a stingy defence can take care of the rest. Dirty Sanchez of the Jets and Carson Palmer of the Bengals both aren’t very good, but Palmer sucks the least.

The Pick: Cincinnati

Philadelphia Eagles vs. Dallas Cowboys

Andy Reid and Donovan McNabb have had tremendous regular season success over the last ten years, but have been unable to win the Big One. Dallas hasn’t won a playoff game since the Clinton Administration. However, ties aren’t allowed in the postseason, so one of these teams is actually going to win a playoff game.

It must be an exciting time for their respective fan bases (until the inevitable loss next week, of course).

Both Tony Romo and Donovan McNabb seem to shirk from pressure-packed situations, so I predict a low scoring affair. Who do I give the edge to? Well, Tony Romo has dated Carrie Underwood and Jessica Simpson. Donovan McNabb shoots Chunky Soup commercials with his mom.

The Pick: Dallas

Baltimore Ravens vs. New England Patriots

I literally know nothing about the Ravens except that Ray Lewis is somehow still playing (and dancing like an idiot) and that their quarterback has a unibrow.

I don’t foresee the Patriots losing a wildcard game at home, despite the loss of Wes Welker. Tom Brady has had some up and down games so far this season, but the dude flat out wins playoff games (as his three Super Bowl rings can attest).

Plus, Brady, as a gay man, would much rather spend the next month hanging out with his offensive line in the shower, instead of spending time with Gisele. Look for the Pats to go deep into the playoffs.

The Pick: New England

Green Bay Packers vs. Arizona Cardinals

This is the easiest game to pick of the weekend. Looking at the conventional data, one would assume that this will be a tightly contested affair. And sure, all the football talking heads and gambling aficionados have declared this game to be a toss up. And if you looked at the cold, hard facts, then you would be right.

You would also be an idiot. The true answer is unbelievably simple.

Who is Arizona’s quarterback? Kurt Warner. Who does Kurt Warner love the most, and vice versa? God. Who is God in human form? Brett Favre. Who is Brett Favre’s former team (from which there was an acrimonious departure)? The Green Bay Packers.

The final score might be 100-3.

The Pick: Arizona

Cooperstown Doesn't Have a Cover Charge

I don’t usually like to talk baseball during the winter months, as it makes me pine for spring during these cold, winter nights, but the results of yesterday’s Baseball Hall of Fame vote has forced me to weigh in.

First, I’m not going to denigrate the induction of Andre Dawson, in his ninth year of eligibility, into the Hall of Fame. I never saw the man play and have never really heard much about him except that he has a badass nickname: The Hawk.

Also, Dawson is the only man to win a Most Valuable Player award while languishing on a last place team (the Chicago Cubs in 1987).

From everything I’ve read, written by people much smarter than me, Andre Dawson deserves to be in the Hall of Fame.

I’d much rather discuss the players who fell short of the very strict standards imposed by the Members of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America (with 10 or more years of consecutive service).

How Robbie Alomar was not the first player to be enshrined in Cooperstown wearing a Blue Jays uniform is an absolute travesty. There is no sane explanation why Alomar did not achieve 75% of the vote.

He was the best player in the game at his position for over a decade. He was the best position player on two World Series winning teams. People bought tickets solely to watch Alomar’s offensive prowess and defensive wizardry.

That is the definition of a Hall of Famer.

Yes, he spit on an umpire. It was a reprehensible act, but one for which Alomar has expressed extreme remorse. The umpire in question, John Hirshbeck, has forgiven Alomar and they are now good friends. Hirshbeck and Alomar even raise money for charity together.

I guarantee the writers who didn’t vote for Alomar will get up on their moral high horse and point to the spitting incident for the reason for Alomar’s exclusion.

That is complete bullshit.

Ty Cobb is in the Hall of Fame and he was, by all accounts, a horrible human being. Ray Liotta, in Field of Dream, said it best: “Ty Cobb wanted to play. But none of us could stand the son of a bitch when he was alive, so we told him to stick it.”

And what about all the owners from before 1950 who made a concerted effort to bar black players from playing in the MLB? And who cheated legions of players out of respectable wages? All those assholes are in the Hall of Fame.

The Hall of Fame isn’t Heaven. Its purpose is to celebrate baseball greatness. Robbie Alomar fits that bill.

Bert Blyleven should be in Cooperstown. He has more wins and more strikeouts than any other pitcher currently not in the Hall of Fame. Although, I don’t really understand how he can garner more votes over the years, when he’s stopped playing. Either he’s a Hall of Famer or he’s not. Bert’s case shouldn’t become more favourable as time passes (which just proves the idiocy of the voters).

Truthfully, he should be inducted solely for having the greatest nickname ever bestowed by Chris Berman. Bert “Be Home” Blyleven.

Jack Morris should also be in the Hall of Fame as one the greatest big game pitchers in baseball history. He thrived in pressure-packed situations as the top dog of two World Series winning rotations (Twins and Blue Jays).

He had one of the best pitching performances in postseason history in Game 7 of the 1991 World Series. Morris threw 10 shutout innings to defeat the Atlanta Braves. He was the epitome of a workhorse.

Plus, Jack Morris gave the baseball world the greatest quote in the history of the game. When asked what he thought of female reporters being allowed in the clubhouse, Morris quipped, “The only time I want to talk to a woman when I’m naked is if I’m on top of her or she’s on top of me.”

Sheer brilliance.

Keep on Searching for a Medal of Gold

For all of you tough, manly men, who are so insecure about your sexuality that you can’t watch The Bachelor, here’s a World Junior recap to help you solidify your testosterone fuelled reading choices.

Last night’s gold medal game was one of the greatest hockey games I have ever witnessed on television. Though the outcome wasn’t desirable from the standpoint of a Canadian fan, it was a joy to watch as a fan of the sport.

The thing that struck me the most was the pace and speed of the play. The American team had some of the fastest players I’ve ever seen lace up a pair of skates. All three periods were chock full of odd man rushes and epic races to the puck. I thought Gord Miller was going to have a stroke trying to keep up with all the action.

The game had a little bit of everything: shitty goaltending (both starters looked unbelievably shaky at times) and great goaltending. Jack Campbell, the US’s back up goalie, put on an MVP calibre performance and was the primary reason his team was able to make it to the extra frame in the first place.

The Canadians fought back from a one goal deficit twice and then scored two goals in the final three minutes to send it to overtime (which, at the time, must have been horrible déjà vu for the Americans after their choke job on New Year’s Eve). Canada’s comeback brings me to my next point:

Jordan Eberle is the greatest international hockey player in Canadian history.

The kid is absolutely amazing. I never thought I would have a man crush on someone born in the 1990s, but here we are. His performance over the last two World Juniors was unbelievable and he is, undoubtedly, the epitome of a clutch player.

If I was Steve Yzerman, I might hold a spot for Eberle on the Olympic team. Just put the kid near the net late in the game and he’ll tickle the twine.

Paul Henderson now has company in the annals of Canadian hockey history.

Unfortunately, Eberle couldn’t do it all himself. He needed help and the other big guns on the team weren’t up to the task; specifically, Nazem Kadri.

I don’t understand why everyone fawns all over this kid. Yes, he’s highly talented and is great in shootouts. So am I and you don’t see me getting drafted anytime soon.

Kadri is horrible defensively, is constantly out of position and always tries to make the big hit, at the expense of the teammates he leaves hanging out to dry with his stupidity. Worst of all, Kadri thinks he’s tough guy.

Did you see the throat gesture he gave the Swiss player during the round robin? First off, maybe he should think about picking a more menacing opponent than the Swiss. They’re neutral.

Second, what are you going to do, Nazem? You’re 5’9” and weigh 150lbs. Leave the rough stuff to the real men.

Having Canada lose the gold medal game may actually be a good thing for the tournament and hockey in general. As I mentioned last week, the World Juniors were getting predictable and boring. Having the Swiss make it to the semis and having the US win gold can only mean good things for the future of international hockey.

Specifically, this could be a boon for the game in the US. We all know Americans will get behind anything in which they are the best. And right now, they are the best at Under 20 hockey. I predict greater interest in next year’s tourney from the south of the border (especially since the WJC will be held in Buffalo).

And don’t fret Canada. We still have Vancouver in February.

I Clipped My Wings of Love

There are actually three separate topics that I plan on covering today, but I doubt all three will be of interest to all of you. Therefore, I will list them in order first, and you can scroll down to the item that piques your curiosity the most.

1. Tiger Woods’ Vanity Fair cover story

2. Eric Tillman Sexual Assault

3. Monday Night TV

Tiger Woods in Vanity Fair

This is a prime example of cheap, sensationalistic journalism. Vanity Fair took photos from a shoot done months ago and packaged them with a hastily written fluff piece that draws zero interesting conclusions. Not only that, the cover photo has Tiger shirtless with a menacing glare on his face. Yeah, we get it. Tiger Woods is an awful person, no one knows the true Tiger. Blah, blah, blah.

What I don’t understand is that the thesis of the article states that Tiger Woods is a sex addict. Why is it that in today’s society we always excuse poor behaviour for an underlying condition or disorder?

If a kid misbehaves in class or doesn’t listen to teachers, he is automatically thought to have a learning disability or ADD. Maybe the kid is just an asshole because his parents did a shitty job at raising him.

Oh, little Johnny can’t read well? He must be given special treatment so he doesn’t feel like an outcast. It’s not his fault. Um, yes it is. Perhaps, little Johnny is just a moron whose eventual vocation will involve pumping gas for a living.

Tiger Woods likes to cheat on his smoking hot wife and bang skanks. So, that makes him a sex addict now? Or maybe he just thought that, as one of the world’s richest and recognizable athletes, normal rules of human decency don’t apply to him and he can do whatever he wants.

A sex addict? Let’s stop giving people excuses to make stupid decisions.

“Your Honour, I stole that money from the casino because I’m financially handicapped. If you charge me with robbery, I will sue the state for discrimination.”

(How long until the above is used, victoriously, as an excuse in court?)

Eric Tillman Pleads Guilty to Sexual Assault

When I first heard the news that Tillman, general manager of the Saskatchewan Rough Riders, had plead guilty to sexual assault, I didn’t think much of it. Here was a creepy looking dude in his forties, guilty of impropriety with a 16 year old babysitter.

However, when I learned the exact details of his indiscretion, I was at a loss for words. Apparently, Tillman went up behind the girl, put his fingers through the belt loops on her hips and pulled her towards him. And then . . .

That’s it.

What? How is that sexual assault? Yes, what he did was creepy and wrong, but there is no way that should be considered sexual assault, which is a serious crime.

If grabbing a girl’s hips is sexual assault, then I have to go consult with an attorney after I’m done here. I might be in a little bit of trouble. Has anyone in the Saskatchewan judicial system ever been to a bar on a Saturday night?

I’ve been sexually assaulted worse than that by a bouncer frisking me at the front door. On the dance floor, grabbing an unsuspecting girl’s hips is considered an appropriate icebreaker, not sexual assault.

Eric Tillman: guilty of being a creep, yes; guilty of sexual assault, not a chance.

TV Last Night

I was faced with a very difficult decision last night. My status as a man’s man hung by a thread, as I was forced to choose between watching the Fiesta Bowl and the premiere of the newest season of The Bachelor.

Not surprisingly, I chose to watch The Bachelor (but I swear I watched the game during commercials). This year’s edition features Jake as the Big Kahuna. He is one of the cast-offs from the previous season of The Bachelorette.

I don’t think I’m in the demographic ABC is looking to attract to this show. I say this because we were subject to at least 300 shots of Jake shirtless before the first commercial break. Sure, Jake has a good body. But, I have one question: does he really need to cook breakfast half naked?

Also, I could have done without the shower scene and extreme close up of his abs.

I found it hilarious when Jake said that he had a lot of first dates, but not a lot of second dates (sounds like someone I know). How surprising. Do you think maybe women get turned off when they realize you have no discernible personality, are a complete pussy and throw a football like a girl?

Enough about Jake, let’s get to the ladies looking to be Kelly McGillis to his Maverick:

- Ali is the chick who lost her voice. She is the epitome of sweet and beautiful. I would love to give her the Eric Tillman

- I really liked Elizabeth, the captain in the National Guard. She wasn’t as ‘hot’ as some of the other girls but she seemed cool and funny. The double-sided coin trick was genius.

- Rozlyn is the smoking, hot babe who everyone will end up hating. One chick already said Rozlyn was there “for the wrong reasons.” And what are the right reasons for finding a spouse on national television?

- Vienna is one of the ditzy blondes. I’m only giving her a mention here because she’s cross-eyed.

- Ella and Michelle are the stalkers. They both basically told Jake they were in love with him already. He gave them both roses. What an idiot.

- Channy was only there to meet ABC’s minority quota. And maybe to get a green card.

- Tenley got the first impression rose. I didn’t know that was a name, either. She has also only had sex with one guy and cried after she kissed Jake because she felt like a whore. I’m looking forward to more Tenley in my life.

- My favourite is Elizabeth 2. She’s the one who brought a football and wanted to test Jake’s arm with a game of catch. She wins in my book. I would have sent the other 24 ladies home immediately if she pulled that with me. Plus, she’s got HUGE boobs.

I’m very excited for the rest of the season. The teaser at the end of last night’s episode was fantastic.

I just might have to recap The Bachelor every Tuesday morning.

The Leader of the Pack

With a 22 point performance against the San Antonio Spurs last night, Chris Bosh became the Toronto Raptors all time leading scorer with 9,428 points.

To adapt a quote from Coach Ara Parseghian in Rudy: “You just summed up your entire sorry franchise here, in one instant!”

It is common knowledge that Chris Bosh is not a fan favourite here at Talkin’ with Tewks; in fact, I’m quite certain that Bosh is a charter member of the 'People I Hate in Sports' club. For the record, I do think that Bosh is a good basketball player. He is a perfectly serviceable big man, who can give you 20 and 10 a night.

However, he is not a franchise player, nor should he be counted to lead a team. Bosh is much too soft and complacent to be a truly dominating force in the NBA. He’s also not nearly as good at the game as he thinks he is. This can be blamed partly on the Toronto sports media, who have built Bosh up to the point where Raptor fans (and Bosh) think he’s one of the top 5 players in the league.

Not a chance.

Therein lays the problem with the Toronto Raptors organization. It is a franchise that breeds mediocrity and lauds average efforts and results. After Bosh made the basket to take the franchise lead over Vince Carter, the crowd went absolutely bonkers.

Not only that, announcers Matt Devlin and Leo Rautins all but requested the game to be postponed, so a ticker tape parade could be thrown in Bosh’s honour.

Really? You’re deifying a guy who has never led the team to a playoff series win. What’s more, it’s pathetic that the franchise record for points isn’t even in five digits. Kobe Bryant scores 10,000 points in a little over four seasons. The Raptors have been around since 1995. You do the math.

However, I am glad that Bosh is erasing Vince Carter from the top of the franchise’s record books. At least Bosh puts forth an honest effort (see? I’m doing the same thing as Raptor fans; making excuses for a middling talent. The idea that a professional athlete has to be complimented for trying hard sickens me).

Carter would stop working once he started sweating. It made him feel ‘icky’. Vince Carter will always be the genital wart on the foreskin of Raptors team history. Sure, it can lie dormant and you might forget about it from time to time, but it will always be there.

A closer look at the Raptors record book shows the following name as the fourth all time leading scorer in team history: Doug Christie. DOUG CHRISTIE!!

This is a guy who isn’t even allowed to use the bathroom without his wife’s permission, and only three players in FRANCHISE HISTORY have scored more points than he did. That is the definition of depressing. Did Doug Christie even play with the Raptors after Y2K?

Raptor fans have to stop being willing to accept such a mediocre product. MLSE has no incentive to make the team better if you keep showing up and spending all your money (I could basically write the exact same column about the Leafs over the past fifteen years).

What a horrible time to be a Toronto sports fan.

2010: The Year of Tewks

I don't make New Year's resolutions. They are for Communists and people with weak constitutions.

I do, however, make New Year's predictions. My prediction for 2010 is that I will take the world by storm (or at least a light drizzle).

Whether it will be in the writing, lifting or performance genre, I'm not sure; but I do know that I am expecting big things from myself in the next 12 months.

I am starting the new year off with a bang. I just finished the first draft of my baseball fiction novel. All that's left to do is to find a publisher and watch millions of dollars flood into my bank account.

As my belated Christmas gift, I am providing you with a new book excerpt. This one is not baseball related, but instead follows a group of minor league teammates out for a night on the town.

Enjoy.

A group of Tigers occupied a back table filled with pitchers of ice cold beer and piping hot wings on the patio of Bobby’s Restaurant and Lounge. Overlooking the Atlantic on Ocean Drive, Bobby’s was a great place for the players to relax in relative anonymity. About a mile north of the Riomar Country Club, the bar catered to upscale clientele looking for a middle class experience.

Joining Tewks and Anderson were Gretzpo, Chris Seaboard and JR Coltrane, a starting pitcher from Thousand Oaks, California. The conversation stuck to baseball while the guys ate, but as the food cleared and the pitchers of beer sunk to dangerously low levels (only to be replenished by their increasingly attractive waitress), they began to take notice of some of the female ‘talent’ around them.

“Oh shit, look at that one,” Gretzpo nodded towards the entrance.

A raven-haired beauty swiveled her shapely hips across the patio towards their table. She wore a tiny pair of denim jean shorts that would make Daisy Duke blush. The shorts were perched atop a statuesque pair of silky smooth, olive skinned legs. Upstairs, she wore a dangerously tight, yellow spaghetti strap shirt which barely concealed her bountiful breasts. Her cup literally runneth over.

Gretzpo stared at Miss Duke with his mouth agape: the rest of the boys used a bit more discretion but there was no denying that she was absolutely gorgeous. She also knew exactly what she was doing. An alluring smile pasted to her face, Miss Duke confidently strode past the Tigers and joined her two friends, also possessing attributes sought by the superficial male, at a nearby table.

Anderson whistled and shook his head. “A broad like that will get you in all kinds of trouble.’

Prying their gazes away from the three Sirens, the guys embarked on a time-honoured tradition and requisite of male bonding: the trading of sex stories. Quickly, the stories devolved into a juvenile game of one-upmanship similar to fisherman telling tales of fish caught. ‘I swear to God, it was this big!’

Gretzpo was the only one not participating in the discussion; not because he didn’t have any stories, but he was completely transfixed by Miss Duke and her friends.

“Jesus, Gretzpo, at least blink. She’ll think you’re a serial killer,” Tewks quipped to his roommate.

“I love this chick,” Gretzpo replied hungrily.

At that moment, the three ladies got up, checked to make sure every pair of male eyes was honed on them, and strutted into the bar to terrorize the dance floor.

Seaboard leaned across the table and smacked Gretzpo in the shoulder. “Hey Bonus Baby, you’re going to have to bring out your wallet to seal this deal.”
"You sure you can handle this?” Coltrane inquired sarcastically.
“Fuck you guys, I’m going in.” With that, Gretzpo jumped up from his seat and bounded into the bar.
Tewks shook his head and smiled. “The kid’s got balls, I’ll give him that.”

Fifteen minutes later, the patio door burst open and Gretzpo stepped through the threshold with a megawatt grin stapled to his boyish face. Miss Duke and her gal pals trailed close behind like he was the Pied Piper leading rats to the river.

The guys exchanged glances in astonished wonder, impressed at the game of their brash teammate. Gretzpo and his new friends joined the Tigers at their table. The sequence of events became clear when their waitress emerged onto the patio, carrying a tray full of shots and set it down in front of the group.

Gretzpo whipped out his credit card in an elaborate gesture and handed it to the waitress. The display of plastic and copious amount of drinks was not lost on the ladies. They had found their meal ticket for the night.

Gretzpo passed out seven shots and kept one for himself; this barely made a dent in the tray. Things were going to get messy.

“What is this, tequila?” asked Coltrane.
“Yeah buddy. Patron.” Gretzpo shot a look to the ladies. “Only the good stuff.”
As the group brought the shots to their lips, Tewks wavered. “Shit I can’t do tequila anymore. It wrecked me in college.”
Gretzpo admonished him. “Come on Tewks, don’t be a pussy. This isn’t your college bullshit tequila; it goes down smooth.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”

Miss Duke, privy to the conversation from her spot across from Tewks, unsteadily rose out of her chair and leaned suggestively over the table. She flashed him her most devastating smile. “Oh just have some shots with us. We’re lots of fun.”

Her chest was directly at Tewks’ eye level. He considered her for a moment, studying the intricate details of her yellow shirt.

Tewks looked at Anderson to his left and said with a conceding shrug, “How can I say no to that face?” He slammed the shot down his throat and signaled Gretzpo to give him another.

I will be back on Monday, as I won't be coherent enough to post anything tomorrow.

Happy New Year!!!

Sherlock Holmes, I Presume

Yesterday’s discussion on the lack of excitement at the World Juniors (which continued last night, with Canada’s 8-2 drubbing of the Slovaks) led Thy Drunken Rookie to weigh in on the feeling of “not having a chance” when competing in various arenas.

He said that he has never “encountered such queasy uneasiness in the sexual arena—best compliment of all time: ‘you could get any girl you want.’”

Thy Drunken Rookie only has the capacity to spout off such egotistical ramblings because I taught him everything he knows about seducing women (that was a short lesson). He was a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed teenager with no discernible game when we first met. In fact, he lacked the courage to even approach girls at the bar. It was quite pathetic.

However, through intense instruction, he learned and developed the necessary skills to become a full-fledged lady killer. And I give credit where credit’s due: guy’s a pimp. But he must not forget where he came from. Hubris is not a good colour on him.

I saw Sherlock Holmes last night.

I had no pre-conceived notions of the characters or the legend of Sherlock Holmes (evidenced by my misuse of a famous quote in the column title), as I’ve never read one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s books.

I went in fresh. That being said, I was thoroughly entertained during the entire movie. The chemistry between Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law was excellent. They played off each other very well and were completely believable in their roles.

Throughout the movie, I couldn’t help feel like I was watching a 1800s British version of an episode of House. The resemblances between Holmes and House (Hugh Laurie) are uncanny.

They are both geniuses with the ability to ‘see’ things an average person cannot. They both derive tremendous deductions from seemingly mundane circumstances. Plus, Holmes and House have wicked senses of humour, terrible bedside manner and enjoy recreational drugs.

I’m convinced that House was inspired by Sherlock Holmes in some way.

Also, Watson and Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard) are strikingly similar. They are the long-suffering best, and only friends, of Holmes and House respectively. They are the only people who can stand H and H’s presence for more than a few minutes.

The scene where Watson returns from injury and Holmes asks how he’s feeling is tremendous. Everything about their relationship and their obvious admiration for each other is said in fifteen seconds of silence.

(Actually, I just checked IMDB and apparently House is, in fact, a tribute to Sherlock Holmes. Right down to having the same apartment number. The lesson: I’m an idiot)

Back to the movie:

The action scenes were very well done and the story had just enough twists and turns to keep you guessing. However, at the end, the plot got way too convoluted and nonsensical for my liking (it was like watching Law Abiding Citizen all over again).

Also, Rachel McAdams was woefully underused. She is fantastic and her role in this film was completely useless. She didn’t need to be in it at all. However, you get to see her naked back which was more than worth the price of admission for me.

I understand and look forward to the inevitable sequel, but I like my movies to be a little more subtle when setting up for a future film. I mean, Robert Downey Junior pretty much turned to the camera and said “Stay tuned for Sherlock Holmes 2”.

We get it. You have a very profitable film franchise on your hands.

Verdict: 4 Rachel McAdams Naked Backs out of 5

World Junior Tourney Losing Its Lustre

It pains me to say this, but I fear that the World Junior Hockey Tournament has jumped the shark. Thus far, the tournament doesn’t seem to resonate as greatly on a national scale of interest as it has in past years.

I have yet to watch one minute of game action. Yes, I’ve had other things to do, but I usually make these games appointment viewing throughout the Christmas season. I am not alone, as the TV ratings have been less than stellar, and there has been a smattering of empty seats in the arena for both of Canada’s games.

The reason for this apathy stems from the widening chasm in talent levels of the have and have nots. Realistically, there are only three countries that have a chance to compete for the gold consistently every year: Canada, Russia and Sweden.

The rest of the countries aren’t even close and the disparity is growing larger every year, evidenced by the 22-0 combined score Canada laid on Latvia and the Swiss.

Does anyone even truly enjoy watching these types of games? They are boring and uneventful and the fact they are taking place at a world class event is embarrassing. As Canadians, we should be concerned for the future of this event if such landslide scores continue to be the norm.

Let me give you an example: does anyone actually take women’s international hockey seriously? Nope. Why not? Because it’s Canada and the US at the top and no one else is even close. Every year at every major event, the Canadians and Americans meet in the final. It’s boring and predictable.

No one else in the world gives two shits about women’s hockey for that reason. If a country can’t field a competitive team, why bother? Their funds earmarked for athletics can be better spent elsewhere.

The same has begun to happen in the men’s game. Not many countries can match our financial contributions to developing hockey talent or match our talent pool for prospective players. Canada has a built-in competitive advantage that cannot be matched by other teams.

The disparity is so great that it’s not worth it to the Latvias and the Switzerlands to attempt make up that advantage. Eventually, their programs and interest level will dry up, they’ll divert funds elsewhere and we’ll be stuck with a three team tournament in the next decade.

How exciting.

Sports are built on unpredictability, drama and excitement. When that disappears, so do the fans. There’s a reason why there’s such a buzz in the air for the Olympics in February. We didn’t even medal in Turin in 2006. No one knows what’s going to happen in six week’s time. Will we redeem our hockey pride? Can anyone stop the Russians?

The only question mark surrounding the Canadian World Junior team is, ‘will they ever break a sweat in the third period?’ Snore.

Hopefully the intensity level picks up when we face the Americans on New Year’s Eve (I don’t hold out hope for Slovakia to give us a challenge tonight).

Undefeated No Longer

Can someone please explain to me how yesterday’s loss to the New York Jets helps the Indianapolis Cots in their pursuit of a Super Bowl victory?

The idiotic move by the Colts management to remove Peyton Manning and their top defensive players midway through the third quarter was made under the guise of ‘resting’ their big guns for the playoffs.

These guys are professional athletes for Christ’s sakes! They should be able to play all sixteen games of the regular season. The New York Jets are fighting for their playoff lives; you didn’t see Rex Ryan giving Dirty Sanchez the fourth quarter off.

What a terrible message this decision sends to Indy fans. Thousands of them spent their hard earned money to come watch the team’s quest for perfection and they were forced to watch the Colts give away a victory.

And that’s all it was. A complete giveaway.

Yesterday’s defeat doesn’t ‘get rid of the pressure of a perfect season’, nor does it ‘alleviate the strain on your first string’; or even ‘give your scrubs some playing time just in case’ (who gives a shit about the playing time of backup players anyway; this isn’t peewee. A disgruntled father isn’t going to pull little Jimmy off the team because he’s not getting any action).

All the loss does is eliminate any momentum the Colts had heading into the New Year. The positive mojo Indianapolis acquired over their impressive regular season win streak has been destroyed with one bone-headed managerial decision.

It would be one thing if the Colts played the scrubs for the entire game and still lost. But Indy was clinging to a tenuous lead when they decided to throw in the towel and, for a lack of a better word, quit (and that’s what they did; you can’t convince me otherwise).

I’m glad Colts fans voiced their displeasure so vehemently. Because I was feeling all warm and fuzzy from the Christmas season, I almost felt bad for the derisive booing fostered upon Indy’s backup quarterback, Curtis Painter.

Then I put myself into the position of a paying customer and realized, ‘Would I want to pay 50 bucks a ticket to watch some guy who should be bagging groceries at Wal-Mart instead of playing quarterback in the NFL?’

Indianapolis was on the precipice of greatness and was feared by every team in the AFC. Now, they’re going to play their second string again next week, have a bye week after that, and then face a hungry opponent on a hot streak in the divisional round.

Peyton Manning and the high-octane Colts offence won’t have another meaningful snap for three weeks. That does not bode well for a team which depends so greatly on the machinations of a well-oiled passing game.