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Tommy John reflects on his eponymous surgery, his 1975 contract dispute with the Dodgers, managing the Bridgeport Bluefish, and who his eponymous surgery would have been named after if he hadn't been guinea pig #1.

What Michael learned this week: robotic death bugs, how to be the Reverend everybody can agree on, and generic shampoo - you're asking for trouble.

opening day home runs

SomaCow Media, Inc. is proud to present SomaCow, brought to you in this hour by Kevin s stupid hat. It really is the dumbest looking hat a man can wear. If you personally own such a hat, throw it in a trash can with all speed. Seriously. So, SomaCow invaded Disney s Wide World of Schportzen to watch the Atlanta Braves take on the Cleveland Indians. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, and Disney has a great ballfield out there in Kissimmee. I highly recommend it, but you will need to take certain steps to ensure you enjoy the day. 1. Bring water, so that you have something to drink on your way to the concession stand to buy beer. Remember that after a few beers, you will develop sun-skunk mouth, so make sure you bring a few extra bucks for a cool-refreshing soda. The soda will probably be too sweet, so you will want to get a pretzel to cut the sweetness, at which point, you will realize that you are pretty hungry, so you might as well get a hot dog. OooH! OR a burger! and nothing goes with a burger like fries, or better still, cheese fries! Those are pretty good, and you might as well grab some popcorn while you are waiting for all that food to cook, so go ahead, at least, unless you would rather have a lemon-icee Woof That was pretty sour, better nip up on some of that cotton candy to reset your tongue, although cotton candy is kinda dry, so, yeah, make sure you bring some water. It is important to stay hydrated. 2. Get the Program if you have kids. It s a good memento for them, and it will remind you of who the hell is playing. If you do not have kids, save your money for water . 3. Get a seat on the lawn. The lawn is where it is at. If you are in a seat, you can not see what is going on. Below is a picture of what I saw from a seat: Whereas this is what I saw from the lawn: Yeah. 4. Even in springtime, it can get downright scorching outside. Plan in advance, as the ladies above did, by wearing very little and keeping a cool breeze on your skin. Unless you are a guy. If you are a guy, use beer in copious quantities, and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you ever remove your shirt. No one wants to see that, and people paid money to be here, for God s sake. (Pic Deleted Out of Taste and Dignity) 5. If you must remove your shirt, do not allow your reasonably hot girlfriend to apply sunscreen for you. The application of sunscreen is a one-way understanding. Male applies to Self, Male applies to Female, Ideally, Females apply to Female, and then tickle Female a lot. NO self-respecting guy should ever get himself into a situation where he is having gay love messages quasi-permanently emblazoned into his skin. 6. Be shade for someone. It s the right thing to do. We were joined again by the lovely ladies of Say Anything, which is always nice. Thanks to everyone that has let us know how great they sounded. We will be sure to have J grow some boobs. We talked up the proper care of hotdogs, and the idea that all relationships are doomed. They are, you know. Consider every relationship a game of Tetris. You work hard, trying to fit all their stupid shit into your brain, constantly praying that they will drop you some nookie, in the form of a four-in-a-row piece. On and on you plod, shoving their insecurities here, their inconsistencies there, and all of the sudden, you have holes all over the place, and the stupid b t given you head in four months, and her dumb friends are coming over again for the third time this week, and they re all fat, and loud, and short, and they smell like cinnamon farts, and her cat shat all over your shoes again, which is fine, cause they are the stupid shoes she picked out for you to wear in the first place, and kinda made you look gay, but now you have nothing to wear when she drags you off to some retarded renaissance fair, where you will AGAIN get to hang out with her fat friends, except with stupid fancypants and bad food and mosquitoes and fat nerds from Omaha wearing poorly cut felt hats. Anyway F%$k the Russians, F@ t know why, it just happened.

The two cities of my life are connected by one movie, so I review the career of the ex-pat who made it happen and visit a magical land of fake overdone turkeys, "headknockers" and leg lamps that go on forever. Promise you won't shoot your eye out. Subscribe here - I triple-dog dare ya! Download directly, and you'll feel like you've won a major award. Associated links Canuxsploitation interview with Bob Clark Bob Clark @ the Film Reference Library A Christmas Story @ wikipedia A Christmas Story House! (even the site is great!) How the house happened, in the New York Times A Christmas Story in 30 Seconds With Bunnies Who was Jean Shepherd? Thanks, Jules! My apologies to anyone who hasn't seen this movie. It's sort of ubiquitous in North America, most likely because the TV station TBS runs it for 24 hours over Christmas Day. But while we make a ton of obscure references to lines and terms in the film, there was a point where we all had to admit that probably none of us had seen the whole thing from beginning to end in one shot - we'd seen different chunks of it at different times, and it eventually added up to seeing all of it. So if you don't have the slightest clue what we're talking about, follow the links up there for the wikipedia article and the 30 second version with bunnies, and I think you'll be pretty well caught up. In order to keep in the stories from that nasty elf, the lovely Patty Johnson (LaFontaine), I had to cut pretty well everything else in the museum, which is a trove of memorabilia with everything from scripts and behind-the-scenes photos to Randy's snowsuit. But I think you can tell anyway that the guys who put that place together weren't half-assed about anything. Researching the links, I learned that the man whose stories made up A Christmas Story, Jean Shepherd, was not just a writer (though that would have been plenty), but a radio personality and voiceover artist. That might not be such a surprise considering his voiceover performance as adult Ralphie in the movie. Shepherd first worked in radio as a DJ, but he started telling stories more than he was playing music, so his path in radio soon changed to becoming a storyteller full-time. In fact, that was how Bob Clark discovered him. According to one of the trivia articles on the A Christmas Story House site:In the late 1960s, "A Christmas Story" director Bob Clark was driving to a date's house when he happened upon a broadcast of radio personality and writer Jean Shepherd's recollections of growing up in Indiana in the late '30s and early '40s. Clark wound up driving around the block for almost an hour, glued to the radio until the program was over. "My date was not happy," Clark said, but he knew right away he wanted to make a movie out of the stories, many of which first appeared in Playboy magazine and were collected in Shepherd’s 1966 book, "In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash."Jim Clavin, of the Shepherd fansite Flick Lives, writes about listening to Shepherd on New York's WOR: Here, he spent the next 22 years talking to "me". Every Jean Shepherd listener will tell you that, as he sat there in front of the radio, or had it tucked beneath his pillow, Shep was talking only to "me". He had a method of talking as if he were sitting in your living room holding a casual conversation, discussing auto racing, or a recent trip abroad.Sounds like that guy would've made a damn good podcaster.

A Alternative Rock! Check out Travel Partners in Dublin Home of the Buckeye Cruise And also check out (As featured on BDT!) The Tone Rangers! The BuckeyeDriveTime theme is Audiopharm with The Groove Beth Thornley with Mr. Lovely PROMO Rejection Letter Podcast The Alice Project with Lost My Way PROMO Podshow Radio Chance with Say What You Will PROMO Nobody's Listening

My (usually) annual trip to watch my two hometown baseball teams inspires plenty of memories of better days. Still, we can enjoy music from Great Big Sea, browse some "Yorkville Yummies", hear two cowbells and walk through the airport of the apocalypse. Click here to subscribe and have your season's ticket. Click here to download directly and pick your game. Associated links Official Site of the Toronto Blue Jays Official Site of the Cleveland Indians Lovely SkyWalk photo by Snuffy on flickr. Porter Airlines The Rogers Centre (Skydome) in wikipedia Pizza Pizza! Great Big Sea (and thanks again to the Podsafe Music Network) Arrrrrgooooos.... Toronto's Sports Radio, the FAN 590 Tom Cheek, RIP Toronto Mike remembers Tom Cheek with streaming audio of his greatest calls Batter's Box Q&A with Jerry Howarth Toronto Blue Jays history The "OK Blue Jays" song! (via Toronto Mike again) The stars of that night's game... Vernon Wells, who hit that home run: Roy Halliday, who fell short of winning us pizza: I'm giving those guys props because I've learned in all the years I've supported teams who suck, it's really important to support and praise the guys who are still awesome and are working their asses off no matter how crappy things get. For the record, Toronto won that game 8-6. Time of the game was two hours and fifty-seven minutes, and the attendance was 28,526. (And yes, I know Left Behind was originally a book. Shudder.) My favourite baseball memory does not involve the Blue Jays, but the Indians, and it's not something they'll have an exhibit about at the Hall of Fame. Back when I was a kid, Dad and I would go see the Tribe one or two times a year at Cleveland Municipal Stadium, and often these games would involve the Yankees. These were the great and universally despised Yankees of the '70's, the subject of that ESPN miniseries we didn't get to see here, The Bronx Is Burning. Indians fans hated the Yankees, with the exception of the late Thurman Thomas because he was from nearby, and regaled them during games with hardy chants of "YANKEES SUCK!" or "REGGIE SUCKS" (for Reggie Jackson) or "BILLY SUCKS" (for manager Billy Martin). Hearing 70,000 people doing that at once is pretty cool. Anyway, we happened to choose that night to sit in the bleachers, but early on in the game, it started raining, and it rained for long enough that we were allowed into the main section of the stadium to wait it out. Time passed, it kept pouring rain. Sometimes back then, some drunk guy would try to run across the field, and inevitably, the Cleveland cops would catch up with him and beat the crap out of him with clubs. (What can I say - it was the '70's.) I noticed a group of about a half dozen guys in the front row of box seats along one foul line, and wondered what that was about. They suddenly jumped over the little barrier and sprinted to the centre of the tarp on the diamond. Of course, the cops were on their way. Then, the group of intruders all took off, each one going in a different direction! There must have been a bet on for who would make it back off the field without being caught. I thought in its way, this was brilliant. Sure enough, the cops were initially perplexed, but adjusted themselves as best they could. The chases were on. One by one, each guy was caught and pounded, then my eyes would dart to the next one, and the next one. As you're picturing this in your head, remember this is in pouring rain, and people on both sides of the law are sliding everywhere. The crowd would cheer and laugh and go "awww" when someone was caught. One intruder had drawn the short stick of running to the outfield fence (which at the time didn't have fancy LCD screens on it), which was maybe six feet high. It looked like he was going to make it - I cheered and yelled for him - but then he had to climb that fence. He reached and scrambled as best he could...but didn't make it. Poundpoundpound! One of them did actually make it, getting back into the box seats on the other side of the field where they'd started. It was euphoric, except for the fact he was running into the welcoming arms of more members of the Cleveland Police, who smacked him around and dragged him off to where he and his friends would dry out (in more ways than one) in a lovely local jail cell. Yes, that is my great baseball memory from my childhood. Kinda shows you I've been this way all my life. Of course, though, there are lessons to be learned about divide and conquer, working as a team, and knowing that no matter what, eventually we all face an end of getting smacked around by cops and getting thrown in a drunk tank, so run as well and as far as you can.

The Cleveland Indians' Jacobs Field looks more like the North Pole.