Monday, May 1:
Yes, I'm a Red Wings fan, but there could be something special in round two, should they lose out to Edmonton (as they should, because the Oilers deserve this series) and should Calgary eliminate Anaheim. A Battle of Alberta -- the first since 1991. And I'll actually be able to watch it. Living in the East those things were mostly just rumours. We'd get the Canadiens against somebody and have to be content with the highlights from either Northlands of the Saddledome. So, I might get some consolation from an(other) early Detroit exit.
Tuesday, May 2:
"Bring It!", huh? Well, the Oilers brought it, Detroit. Enjoy your time on the links. Even the return of Steve Yzerman couldn't inspire a win out of these regular season pretty-boys. No one is stepping up to be this club's next leader, and there could be some lean years ahead when they try to fill Stevie Y's huge shoes both on the ice and in the dressing room.
No "Battle of Alberta" yet. C'mon, Calgary!
Wednesday, May 3:
Bold prediction of the week: A team with a red, black and white colour scheme will be in the Stanley Cup final.
I barely knew Pat Marsden, who lost his battle with cancer this week. But he was one of the first people to offer me a warm welcome to Toronto, all those years ago. It didn't matter that he was a well-established and connected TV sports personality and I was a new-in-town radio mumbler. He still took the time to say howdy and welcome and I'll always remember him fondly for that.
Thursday, May 4:
Has there ever been a more boring game-seven, winner-take-all tilt than last night's Anaheim-Calgary snoozefest? And no "Battle of Alberta" after all. Ah, poop.
So, how did I do? Five of eight in getting the first-round winners right, and a perfect score for saying Buffalo over Philly in six. But what about the wacky West? Seeds 1,2,3 and 4, all done??? Never saw that in the ol' crystal ball and I don't imagine many people did. So round two: New Jersey over Carolina in five; Buffalo over Ottawa in seven; San Jose over Edmonton in six; and Colorado over Anaheim in six. I know, that wipes out the Canadian contingent, but I call 'em as I see 'em!
By the time the OHL final gets underway it might be football season. Actually, it finally gets going tomorrow night. The only prediction I'll make is that Peterborough vs. London will go seven games. I think they are that evenly matched. Of course, having said that, one of them will probably sweep. My current work schedule means I'll be watching this via TV only. Wish I could see it live, but I also wish I had a million dollars.
Friday, May 5:
OK, time to remove Josh Towers from the Blue Jays rotation until he rediscovers his talent and confidence. Or maybe he can just start games in the 2nd inning. Here are Towers' first-inning follies over his last four starts:
April 16 - at CWS: 3 ER;
April 23 - vs. Bos: 3 ER;
April 29 - at NYY: 4 ER;
Last night - at Bos: 5 ER.
That equals a tidy ERA of 33.75 in his last four opening innings. Yikes!
Monday, May 8:
OK, someone's gonna get hurt out there. And I'd rather see the NHL go back to its crazy "in the crease" confusion than to wait around for a star goalie to be carted off with a broken leg or worse. Marty Brodeur probably felt safer on the Jersey Turnpike in an ice storm than he did in Raleigh the other day. I know coaches teach their forwards to storm the net, but how in thunder is a goalie supposed to stop the puck when some freight train is barreling down on him, knowing there's virtually no pain in running into the goal -- or the goalie? The old post-anchored nets aren't coming back, but you wonder if the next Billy Smith isn't out on the horizon, sharpening his stick, ready to hack away at the first ornery varmint who dares invade his homestead. And I wouldn't blame him one bit.
The 1951 Stanley Cup final was decided in five games -- all in overtime. (Awright, who's the wise guy? YES, before my time!) Maybe this year's OHL final is headed that way. The Petes won the first two from London, both in O/T, but these are two closely-matched outfits, to be sure.
So, for the first time since shootouts settled land claims instead of hockey games, I picked the winner of the Kentucky Derby. Of course, I didn't lay so much as a bob down on Barbaro's back. But he sure stormed to an easy victory. Has he got the royal jelly? We'll find out in Baltimore and New York.
Tuesday, May 9:
Reason #5,307,396 why I don't manage in the major leagues or anywhere else for that matter: I'm driving around town last night, listening to the Angels and Blue Jays battle in a scoreless fifth, when Lyle Overbay picks up the first base hit of the ball game. And then...
(Jerry Howarth on radio): "Hinske up, Kotchman holding Overbay at first..."
(Me, sarcastically, to no one in particular): "Right. Like they're going to send him."
(Howarth): "...Runner goes, Hinske swings, a drive into the gap! It's going all the way to the wall! Overbay rounds third, he scoooooores!!"
Before the smoke clears it's 5-0 in the hands of Doc Halliday. Game over, 5-1. I'll stick to predicting hockey games.
Speaking of which, who gets eliminated first? The Ottawa Senators or London Knights?
And speaking of the Knights, a whole pile of Londoners sure have their bowels in an uproar over the odd configuration of the corners in that charming band box, the Peterborough Memorial Centre. The corners are almost square, leading to some very strange bounces. But to hear hockey fans and even some reporters in my old hometown tell it, the Petes have an unfair advantage and the league should DO something about it.
Equine poop.
The PMC has had square corners since Don Cherry was a junior. This isn't a shocking revelation. The Knights have lost playoff series to the Petes in decades past with the same boards in the same arena. It's only an issue now because the champs suddenly find themselves two games down in the league final.
Thursday, May 11:
Pet Peeve: Referees calling a trip and a dive on the same play, usually late in a close game so as to avoid giving one team or the other a power play. If a trip (or hook, or whatever) is blatant enough that the guy goes sprawling, then that's all that needs to be called. If someone gets a love tap and then proceeds to act out the climatic death scene from a gangster movie, then that's all that needs to be called. Only very rarely would someone embellish a legitimate foul, and would only do so at the risk of joining the offender in the sin bin.
Saturday, May 13:
May 4th, on these pages (scroll up), by yerz truly: “The only prediction I’ll make is that Peterborough vs. London will go seven games.” Maybe I should try predicting which way is up and/or down -- I can’t get any worse in hockey.
Congrats to the Petes after sweeping London. They were deserving winners in the OHL final, and we wish them good luck in Moncton. What a climax a Memorial Cup championship would be for a 50th anniversary season!
Sunday, May 14:
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, Moms -- one and all!
Not sure what the cost is for the full 3-D hockey experience. We’ll have to ask Daniel Alfredsson, who had the best view possible for Jason Pominville’s overtime winner last night for the Buffalo Sabres in Ottawa. Alfredsson watched Pominville skate at him, around him and behind him before he scored the winner. I know the Senators’ captain isn’t a defenceman, but pylons have better movement than Alfredsson showed on that play.
From what I’ve read of it, Pominville’s stunning goal last night was somewhat similar to an eye-popping playoff goal Maurice Richard scored against Boston at the Forum, April 8, 1952. Except the Rocket went end-to-end before buttonhooking around defenceman Bill Quackenbush and scoring on Sugar Jim Henry. There’s no video of this goal, but many historians called it the greatest goal of the Original Six era. There are a couple of photographs -- one of the goal itself and the other of Richard and Henry shaking hands, looking for all the world as if they had just survived a head-on crash. Henry was squinting through a mess of a face that featured a broken beak and two eyes the colour of an Arizona sunset. The Rocket was oozing blood from beneath a bandage that was covering a nasty cut on his noggin.
Monday, May 15:
The world of radio lost Dave Shafer last week, which brought back a flood of memories. Never met him, but Shafer was one of the CKLW announcers -- before the "Big-8" heyday -- whose on-air work fascinated this youngster in the summer of 1965. Our family had a cottage on Lake Erie, south of Windsor -- just a few miles from the CKLW transmitter on old highway 18. We used to joke that the signal was so strong, we didn't need batteries for our transistor radios on the beach. Typical kids, we went swimming after breakfast, walked up to Bailey's general store for pops and ice cream and then played nine full innings of baseball. Then we'd do it all again in the afternoon. At night, we dreamt of the female singers of the day we happened to have a crush on (for most guys it was Cher but for me, it was Bev Bivens of We Five -- the best singer you've probably never heard of). All of this summer living was done to the sound track of CKLW and the music of '65: "Nothing But Heartaches," "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag," "Satisfaction", "I Got You Babe", "Eve Of Destruction", "Agent Double-0 Soul" and "You Were On My Mind."
The summer highlight was crossing the border to downtown Detroit July 21 and walking (!) to Tiger Stadium and back for an unforgettable twi-night doubleheader against Cleveland. Our heroes, Al Kaline and Norm Cash homered (so did Ray Oyler, for crying out loud!) while Mickey Lolich and Denny McLain pitched the Tigers to a sweep of the Tribe. How can that possibly be 41 years ago?
Thursday, May 18:
It might have been the only time when a soccer team would have been better off being down a goal. Instead, it was a red card and Arsenal found themselves down to 10 men and without their starting goalkeeper just 22 minutes into yesterday's Champions League final. The Gunners even grabbed a 1-0 lead that they would hold for about 40 minutes, but in the end it was too much to ask. Two quick goals by Barcelona and a Paris monsoon proved to be too much for the North Londoners.
Kudos to Edmonton fans who resisted the temptation to boo the Star Spangled Banner last night before game six against San Jose. That sort of behaviour drives me crazy. Frankly, I think we're more guilty of it on this side of the border than Americans are. Boo a team all you want to, but leave nations out of it.
Friday, May 19:
This is it: THE loooooong weekend, the kick-start to summer, the bar-b-q-in', partyin', hoo-ha-in', lid-liftin', May 2-4 weekend! The annual southern Ontario forecast: cool, cloudy and wet. I'm not going to mind working all three days this year. And anyone notice that it's been cool, cloudy and wet ever since Environment Canada called for drier and warmer than usual conditions for May, June and July? It's all got me doing a little California dreaming, an 11-day getaway that's just two weeks away.
Hockey predictions (just 1-for-4 last round, 6-for-12 overall): OK, I'll jump on the Oilers' bandwagon, which will completely ruin their chances. Edmonton over Anaheim in six. And Buffalo over Carolina in seven. I've been on the Sabres' bandwagon since January.
A reader e-mailed in on my musical recollections earlier this week and mentioned that he was also a fan of 60's singer Beverly Bivens of "We Five", a very underrated quintet . The original group wasn't together for long and Bivens' life has been the subject of internet rumours for years. She either: a) died in a motorcycle crash, b) committed suicide, c) was not with the group when it recorded its one major hit, Sylvia Tyson's "You Were On My Mind", d) married the late jazz bassist Fred Marshall and had two children with him, e) all of the above or, f) none of the above. (the correct answer is "d"). What is completely clear is this: "You Were On My Mind" -- great as it is --- does little to highlight her extraordinary talent. For that, I recommend the twin-album We Five CD from Collectors' Choice Music. Highly recommend it, in fact. You'll wonder, as I have for a long, long time, why Bev Bivens wasn't a major star.
Speaking of talent, not long ago I mentioned to a colleague that I had recently heard a lights-out soul version of "Funny How Time Slips Away", but had no idea who the singer was. Our chat went something like this:
Colleague: "That version you love is by Colm Wilkinson."
Me: "Colm Wilkinson, the opera guy??!! Right. And I'm the King of Siam."
Colleague: "It's Thailand now. And yes, Colm Wilkinson, Mr. "Phantom Of The Opera", himself."
Me: "I know -- I've been to Thailand. But this doesn't sound anything like 'The Phantom Of The Opera.'"
Of course, my colleague was right. It was Colm Wilkinson, in an amazing display of talent and versatility. So I went right out and bought his CD, "Some Of My Best Friends Are Songs." Awesome stuff.
All of which left me with this thought, if there is indeed a "second life": I'm gonna ask the Big Skipper that I be allowed to come back and be able to sing and play something more challenging than a kazoo. Oh, and have better hair, too.
Saturday, May 20:
So far, so good for the Peterborough Petes, 3-2 winners over Quebec in their Memorial Cup lid-lifter. (Who dreams up words like that?) But the Petes will have to put forth a better effort next week. David Shantz saved them in goal against Patrick Roy's Remparts. Maybe the Petes can ride Shantz's brilliance right to the championship, but I think they can play far better than the display they put forth in the opener. Now they have a couple of days off to work out the kinks, which might be the best thing for them.
Rain tonight. Rain tomorrow night. I keep hearing rumours of this bright yellow ball that's supposed to be visible in the daytime sky, but I'm growing skeptical!
Sunday, May 21:
You never see it coming, do you? A record crowd packed Pimlico Race Track yesterday in Baltimore to see Barbaro run leg two of U-S thoroughbred racing's Triple Crown. Instead, they saw the colt break down in front of the grandstand with a shattered ankle. Instead of cheering wildly for the latest Triple Crown contender, people were crying in the stands. His racing career over, Barbaro's life hinges on emergency surgery today. It's the very worst aspect of the sport of kings -- and these are just three year-old animals. Even in a horse's comparatively short life, they are relative youngsters. And these are the risks -- horse and rider -- that are taken every time they enter the gate.
Best stuff on the tube these days? The NBA playoffs. Today and tomorrow -- Cleveland-Detroit: game seven; L-A Clippers-Phoenix: game seven; Denver-San Antonio: game seven. Only one series in the Stanley Cup playoffs has gone the route -- Anaheim-Calgary in round one.
Monday, May 22:
Ten points. It's what separated the Cleveland Cavaliers from the Detroit Pistons after three quarters of game seven yesterday at Auburn Hills. It's also what the Pistons limited the Cavs to in that third quarter. Coming back from 10 down in a deciding game on the Pistons' home court is a tall order for anyone. For the sensational and oh-so-mature-for-his-years Le Bron James and the young Cavs, it was too much to ask. So now James knows the road to a title goes through the Motor City, as it did for a young Michael Jordan many years ago. So many seasons, Jordan's dreams were shattered in Motown. Then the Bulls finally beat Detroit and Michael spent many nights exacting his revenge as the Bulls completely owned the Pistons during their championship years. Le Bron might be the sort of fellow with a long memory, too.
More on music: The setting of "American Graffiti" -- 1962 -- was a bit before my time, but as mentioned before, the summer of '65 was the coolest year possible. Being a few years younger than the rest, I was the "Terry The Toad" of our group, but the older kids at our beach were the greatest, and completely adopted me. I still have Donny Matthews' "greaser handshake" down pat (although the only thing up there now is my scalp!) and I remember that Dave Lidell's "G-TO" was about the hottest roadster along the whole length of the Sun Parlour!
Happy Victoria Day, Canada! Handle the fireworks with care, please!
Tuesday, May 23:
Hope you didn't bail on the basketball game last night. With Dallas up by 20, it was tempting to reach for the remote. But San Antonio, the defending champs, whittled away at the deficit, pulled even, took a three-point lead, lost that, settled for overtime, and eventually fell in the extra session to the Mavericks. Dandy game for those who decided to hang in!
Best record right now in major league baseball? The Detroit Tigers. This from a franchise that hasn’t had a winning season since Rin Tin Tin was a pup. Well, a decade, but it seems that long. Baby steps. A playoff berth would be welcome, but just a winning record would be fine with me. Going 52-66 the rest of the way would do that. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy this while it lasts.
I know there have been worse ones (I remember camping through them), but this was a pretty wretched Victoria Day weekend for weather 'round these parts. Can't wait for the clearing and heat they're promising later in the week.
Wednesday, May 24:
Can't say as I was ever a fan of Patrick Roy, especially when he took his excellent goaltending and me-first act to Colorado. Of course, as a Red Wings fan, I could never cheer for him then. I see he is still playing mind games, now at the junior level as coach of the Quebec Remparts at the Memorial Cup. In advance of tonight's game against the host Wildcats, he is suggesting that Moncton's goalie is playing over his head, and that he's simply not that good. Not exactly a class act, especially coming from someone who Josh Tordjman may have once looked up to. As for me, I'm not sure which Roy moment is my favourite:
1) His "Big Save, Statue Of Liberty" playoff boo-boo when the puck was at his feet and soon in the net, instead of in his glove where he thought it was.
2) The subsequent game seven in Detroit, when the Red Wings scored early and often and chased him from the cage.
3) His final seconds in the NHL, when the Minnesota Wild scored on him in overtime to complete a stunning upset over the Avalanche, or...
4) Getting his clock cleaned by Mike Vernon when he challenged the Red Wings' goalie to a centre ice fight.
Loved them, one and all.
In all fairness, Patrick Roy was one of the greatest goaltenders in hockey history, with four Stanley Cup wins and a record number of victories. He was nothing short of superb in the cage for a long, long time.
Thursday, May 25:
For years and years, the Thursday leading into the U-S Memorial Day weekend meant packing up a big vehicle with my buddies and heading towards Indianapolis for the 500. I started hitting Indy in 1978 and was there for all but two years from 1989 to 2003. But the 500 is no longer the self-proclaimed "Greatest Spectacle In Racing." It's not even the greatest spectacle at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway -- that now belongs to NASCAR's Brickyard 400. Nor is it the most popular race on the final Sunday in May. The Coca-Cola 600 (NASCAR, again) in Charlotte draws far more people on television. Last year, I was at the Formula One race at Nurburgring, Germany on Indy day and had just as much, if not more, on-track enjoyment. When Indy owner Tony George pulled the plug and ruined open-wheel racing in North America, he lost me as a fan. I gave it a try for a few years, but until there's an IRL-ChampCar unification, I'll now continue to stay away from the IMS. Of course, I will still watch on television Sunday and cheer for Danica Patrick (I still think she's the real deal on a race track, having seen her a couple of times race in Toronto).
Friday, May 26:
Where did that effort come from, from the Peterborough Petes? Outshot 45-11, they lost 6-0 in their tie-breaker game against Vancouver yesterday at the Memorial Cup. For whatever reason (and without taking anything away from their opponents in Moncton), the Petes never seemed to bring their 'A' game to the Cup playdowns. Oh, well. Still an excellent season for the OHL champs in their 50th anniversary year.
Saturday, May 27:
Two outta three ain't bad, sang Meatloaf many years ago. And a night of wings, beer and watching the Modifieds tear into the dirt track was on the bill for last night over the border in Ransomville, NY. But Mother Nature didn't cooperate, raining out the racing at Ransomville Speedway. No matter. I joined my longtime buds Mike and E.T. over at Johnston's, the outstanding roadhouse in Ransomville for the best chicken wings on the planet (yes, even better than Anchor Bar in Buffalo) and we washed them down with a few Rolling Rocks. All the while, we were catching up on old times and cramming as many chuckles, laughs and outright guffaws that are humanly possible in three hours. The food and company were perfect -- a night to remember.
Sunday, May 28:
Wow -- what an Indy 500! Incredible for Sam Hornish Jr. to have such a nightmarish pit stop followed by a drive-through penalty and still win the race. Once again, Roger Penske and brilliant strategy carried the day. Defending champ Dan Wheldon led most of the race, but that seems to be a Brickyard curse. Speaking of which, welcome to your family's never-ending Indy heartbreak, Marco Andretti. The 19-year old was outstanding all day, only to lose the race in the final half-mile. And father Michael Andretti led with five laps left, but didn't have the speed to hang on. Danica Patrick? A solid eighth place, after running in the top five for awhile. So the closest finish (Al Unser Jr. over Scott Goodyear in 1992) occurred on the coldest Indy 500 day in history and today's second-closest 500 came on the hottest day of the 90 races run. I was part of that frigid crowd 14 years ago and there's no doubt this one will join it as one of the most memorable races in the Indianapolis Motor Speedway's long history.
Monday, May 29:
It's Memorial Day for our friends in the United States. Please stay safe on this holiday. And please take a moment to remember those in both the U-S and Canada who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. Whether you agree with the wars or not, our soldiers are risking their most valuable resource -- time on earth -- to maintain our freedoms.
Ah, poop. One of the things I was planning on doing next week in California was to take a drive to Palo Alto and snap a few pics of decades-old Stanford Stadium. Well, decades-old Stanford Stadium is nothing but rubble now, having been torn down after the Cardinal's season-ending loss to Notre Dame. A new stadium will be ready or the 2006 college football season opener. I had either not known this or had (far more likely) forgotten, as the old cranium is not as finely-tuned as it once was.
Congratulations to the players of the Quebec Remparts on their Memorial Cup championship.
Wednesday, May 31:
How I wish the Buffalo Sabres had home ice advantage for game seven tomorrow night against Carolina after surviving last night's game-six overtime. Buffalo is where I'll be tomorrow for an early Friday flight to Los Angeles, and it would be quite the rush to see it in person. But I'm sure the bars will be packed with Sabres fans so I'll do the next best thing and cheer right along with them. The Stanley Cup final starts Monday and somehow I don't imagine I'll be getting much news of it through the California media.
