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Masters Thoughts From Thursday + Wisconsin/RIT


First and foremost, all golfers using yellow golf balls are disqualified (even though I like you, Furyk).  This is Augusta, not a course you can play in jeans while drinking a Bud Diesel.  You might as well be carrying a ball retriever to fish other people’s stray’s out of Rae’s Creek.

Instead of jamming up everyone’s Twitter feed yesterday (which would have been SUPER easy to do, considering that I’m a smart-ass, and was watching the golf alone.  You have no idea how nice it is to have an outlet for my sarcasm.  Without Twitter, just my friends would think I’m a dick.  Now all the world gets to know.  Okay, 600 or so of you.), I just put all my “tweets” into a blog post for today.  Which is twice as awesome, cause I avoid the 140 character limit. 

But first, I’m off to do my taxes.  Sighhh…. 

Hereeee we go!


(-4) 68 to start for Le Tigre

 Sometimes I forget I’m supposed to be rooting against Tiger, which means I’m probably not.

What it does tell me about myself (and apparently all the patrons in attendance), is that I’m probably more interested in watching greatness than I am into reading gossip magazines.  If Mozart was a sleazy a-hole too, his music would be no less beautiful.

Please don’t read that as “I condone what Tiger did”.  I just happen to like watching Picasso paint. (Also – there’s seems to be a gender divide on those type of thoughts.)

Nice kicks, brah.


 My boy Freddy Couples bad back kinda killed his style Thursday, huh?  I thought he was rocking a pair of Vans at first, but turns out he’s wearing no socks and spike-less ECCO’s.  Hey, whatever it takes, dude. 

The second I finished that sentence, Freddy rolled in a long curling birdie to go to -3.  You win, buddy.  You win again.


Favourite text I got yesterday (after Tiger rolled in the birdie on nine):  “Tiger is immortal.”


A little known fact about yesterday: Shingo Katayama pants and shoes were actually a magic eye.  If you blurred your vision, you could vaguely make out what I think was a cowboy hat.


Every time I saw David Duval putting, I thought the wind was blowing and filling up his shirt.  Seriously.  It was only later I saw him standing beside someone else, and realized he was filling it up all on his own.


A Freddy Couples things I like:  Just like me, his mustache looks like it grows in about five times as fast as the rest of his facial hair.  Then there’s the salt n pepper hair, which I’d start rocking at about 30 if I could.  And last - I like his buttery swing…. just a smidge.

Noon o'clock mustache shadow. I feel ya brother.


College hockey:

"Great play by... uh.. the guy in orange wearing a cage!"

RIT has no namebars.  The intent of which is to show unity amongst the team – that it’s about the name on the front, not the one on the back.  Hey, the Yankees do it.

Difference is, the Yankees aren’t trying to get to the “next level”, like kids who play college hockey.  And the Yankees play 162 times a year, not 40, so it’s a little harder for fans to know who’s who over 20 home games.  The cages don’t help.

All in all, it’s a really, really silly thing their program thinks has a point, but doesn’t. 


If you’re the underdog – as in RIT – turnovers aren’t good.  D-zone turnovers, then?  Like, more turnovers than a bakery, in your own end?  You lose 8-1.


The stupid Wisco goal song still hurts.  I’ve been on the wrong end of an eight-goaler there.  Pretty helpless feeling.


Despite the beatdown from Madtown, I think I enjoyed watching the college style of play more than any NHL game I’ve watched this year.  Totally surprised that I forgot how fun the college game is.


The Phoenix Coyotes came from behind to beat the Kings last night, leaving LA in a tie with Detroit for fifth.  PHOENIX: STOP BEATING LA AND NASHVILLE NOW, SO YOU CAN DO IT IN PLAYOFFS. 


I love watching guys go out in a big way.  There’s nothing worse than careers ending on a whimper.  It’s like a bad handshake at the end of a good day with a buddy.  Taints it.

So I do wanna see Modano retire.  If he’s not an offensive threat, he’s not that valuable – this year, he was still that threat.  And man…. watching that game last night, you couldn’t help but have a few tears.

He’s a talented, classy dude that had a great career.  The game will miss him.



I’m a writing fiend today.  Bri’s lappy on lap (somehow I still don’t own a computer), snacks nearby, and the Masters in the background.  Game on.

Best Week Ever – The Sportsgasm



And every other great sports week.  Let’s dive in:

The twenty-team BBHL (Bourne’s Blog fantasy Hockey League) is down to two, and somehow, someway, I’m still alive (didn’t expect to add that to my BWE {best week ever}), did ya?  And that’s with Carey Price as one of my two goalies.  Yeesh. 

I’ll admit, I got muchos lucky in the semi-finals – drew the guy who wasn’t paying attention enough to start the right guys or even have a chat (read: make a bet), but I’ll take it.  Also, if you’re the dude who wasn’t paying attention, you have no chance of being invited back into the league next year (…without heavy bribery).

But whatever, I’m still happy.  On to the finals!


Le Tigre has a press conference at 11:00 a.m. my time (2 EST) – I’m not going to live blog it, mostly cause I have other stuff I’m supposed to be doing (like, um, my job), but still, expect a tweet barrage.  Expect that all week, really.  I predict Tigs to announce Dr. Drew as his new caddy.


The funniest thing George Lopez does is call himself a comedian.  Sorry, I had to get that out of my system.  Back to being positive…


Sick camera angle.

The Detroit Red Wings are only two points out of fifth in the West, just behind the Nashville Predators – If they catch them, Phoenix plays them in round one, which would but about as lucky as Ben Stiller in Meet The Parents (that poor guy just can’t catch a break!). 

 …..Oh god I just checked the schedule… Phoenix plays Nashville on Wednesday.  Who’s Phoenix’s ECHL affiliate?  Can they call those guys up?  Can I sign a one day deal to help them lose?  Can we dress reader “zyllyx”?  Make the Coyotes wear rollerblades?  SOMETHING?!?


The worst thing to happen to the Washington Capitals Stanley Cup hopes is drawing the Flyers in round one, which as it stands right now, they would.

If it’s Boston or Montreal (Montreal especially), they’ll breeze through that first round.  Philly, unfortunately for the Caps, plays a bit of a physical game, and is suffering from the frustration of earning the awful moniker ”best team that never gets it done” in the East (maybe the league – San Jose has had a couple playoff collapses, but the Flyers have been legit contenders for a decade and never got it done).  It’d suck (for them) to have their dangly skill team to face a group of hungry, aggressive dudes.


I got the right guy in the picture.... right?

This whole “Henrik Sedin leading the league” thing is pretty awesome.

Nobody in the league has chemistry like him and his brother, as evidenced by his highlight reel.  When you watch Sid or Ovy’s, for the most part, you get the miraculous one man rushes, nifty moves, clever dekes and the lightning shots.

Henrik’s reel is far more impressive from the “utilizing your teammates” standpoint.  He fires behind-the-back no-lookers that end up directly resulting in goals.  Not neat “almosts” or plays that guys go to the bench and say “that woulda been awesome”, but tape to tape, spinning, no look, tap in goals.  They (Daniel and Henrik) almost never have to shoot the puck through a goalie, since they can just dish it around him.

Very impressive stuff.



The par three tournament is tomorrow, the press conferences are today, my orgasm is Sunday and the tournament starts Thursday.

For last years list of “Why I Love The Masters“, follow that link – that was puked out stream-of-consciouness style, so I’m sure I could add even more to it. 

Expect Tiger to start slow, but be a threat if he can find a way to make the cut (even when he’s been active, his first round at the Masters is his worst, with a stroke average above 72 on day one).  I’m pumped!  I’ll be live blogging it Sunday from one of those Cover It Live things if you want to watch it with me!











Predictions coming Wednesday.


What a way to start the baseball season – with a Yankees loss (in Fenway).  Ahhh, spring.  Inhale, exhale that loss…. smells fresh.  Go Mets!


My buddy Nick gets to my place tonight, so I don’t expect a lot of double blog entries, even though this is the ultimate week for it.  But, like I said, expect the tweet barrage.  You’ll be hearing from me!  (Go RIT!)

Your Unnecessarily Happy Monday Post


Few things make me as happy as when Down Goes Brown tweets that he has a new entry up.  He is, unequivocally, the best provider of hockey funny on the ‘net, made better by the fact that he seems to be well informed.

The best part is, his type of infotainment (mmm, buzzwords…) represents the direction sports coverage is moving.  Thanks to the internet, there’s alternatives to ESPN’s ”pre-season-baseball-is-something-to-be-taken-seriously” tone.  Sites like his (and hopefully mine) are like sports version of The Daily Show.  You don’t always tune in to learn about politics (or sports), but you can’t help but pick up a few things as you go.

If you want a hockey blog that’s basically the CNN of what’s going on with the NHL’s major topic du jour, Stu Hackel runs the NY Times Slapshot Hockey Blog, and does a great job of providing the big picture.  I like to read his daily entry, right-click all the links, open them in new windows, and spend the next hour catching up on whats going on with the more serious side.

So imagine my delight (and jealousy) when today’s Down Goes Brown post revealed a partnership between the two blogs.  Well played, NY times – good to see you working to meet the interests of more hockey fans.

Also, the Down Goes Brown partnership with Bloge Salming has provided us with a number of hilarious hockey videos (remember the Olympic hockey rap?) it’s a shame they usually pertain to the *gag* Maple *dry-heave* Leafs.  Here’s one of the more recent gems, an “NHL on NBC promo spot”. 



As for your own resident (and often cynical) hockey blogger, I say good morning!

If a week could be an “eve”, this week would be BestSportsWeekEver Eve (rolls off the tongue, eh?). 

The good thing about “Eve’s” (Christmas, New Years, um… Labour Day?), is that they’re usually fun too.  So lets have some.  Here’s some stuff that’s great right now, to set you on a positive course for your week:

*Fans are actually attending games in Phoenix….  Because they’re winning….  Like a certain blogger once wrote would happen.  Be prepared - I fully intend to go “Fire Joe Morgan”-style on my own pre-season article to validate myself.  Go Coyotes!  (Today’s all-too-obvious tidbit for Coyotes fans: Catching San Jose just because the most important thing in your world.  You should start cheering like it’s playoffs, for real…. You know Detroit is gonna pass Nashville for 5th.  Nobody wants to play one of the best teams in the league as a five seed).

*It’s spring.  I haven’t exactly been suffering over here in Phoenix in the winter, but damn, is it nice out these days. 

*We’re a few days behind Puck Daddy over here, but I wanted to boost our egos on my blog today anyway - sometimes even the best players eat it, just like you!  Enjoy these two shootout fails:


(I love that the ref waves his arms, signaling “no goal!”  Thanks, Judge Judy.  That was a tough call.)

*My TBAF (to blog about files) are stuffed with awesomeness.  It’d still be a good week if the NHL wasn’t heading to playoffs, college hockey wasn’t headed to the Frozen Four, March Madness wasn’t headed to the Final Four, the Masters weren’t coming up, baseball season wasn’t starting, NBA playoffs weren’t starting and all that other stuff…. but it’s all happening, so buckle in.

*Bourne’s Blog recieved a couple much appreciated donations this week, with a bonus:  One of them was it’s first from an NHL Hall-of-Famer.  So just think, when you’re commenting, some legit hockey people are reading your opinions (and probably fully judging you).  So keep up the good work, my entries are nothing without your follow-up. {A lot of my buddies that still play at the highest levels periodically check-in and recommend topics, so they’re judging you too.}

For those of you who’re thinking “eff you with the positivity, it’s Monday”, that’s fine.  I’m a prick too.  But just relax for today, and we’ll get to hating stuff tomorrow.  Like 3D TV’s (I just bought a TV, in September, you a-holes) and Rick Dipietro’s structural make-up (At least Roloson’s catching Chelios in age!).



UPDATE: Go read my thoughts on implementing a transitionary visor rule for The Hockey News.  St. Louis Blues defenseman Tyson Strachan already wrote me to tell me it’s a dumb idea, soo….. hot start, Bourne.


Also – a couple requests for the “Jim Playfair melts down” video, so here ya go.  Dude looks like my college coach Dave Shyiak, if Shyiak was full of meth, speed and malt liquor:

A Brief Wander, Followed By A Serious Rant On Agitators



Ahem.  Sorry.  I finger-puked on the keyboard.

He shoots, he scores!

Tiger Woods has confirmed the speculation.  He’s making his return to professional golf at Augusta.

You may have noticed by now that I kinda sorta enjoy that golf tournament.  When he wrapped his Escalade around… well, pretty much everything (animated graphic here), I became immediately panicked about the undisputed best weekend in sports.

But today, proper order has been restored to the world.

What’s that you say?  The Masters, NHL playoffs, NBA playoffs, college hockey playoffs, March Madness finals and the start of the baseball season?  Hmm.  Thank youuu, April. 

I’ll be live blogging the weekend on one of those “Cover It Live” things, and anybody who wants to watch “with” me and entertain each other (that guy spends more time in the sand than David Hasselhoff), I welcome your company.


I’ve become more fluent in the language of internettia since I started working on the damn thing for a living.  After watching a TIME video on tech trends, I decided it was time I add all the “share” buttons to the top of this blog.

Basically, they were explaining to simpletons like me how the reader is becoming the distributor.  Good writing, entertaining stories and all things viral are passed about by people like you recommending stuff through Digg, Twitter, and any of the million other options you have for sharing.

So, on those days I write something of significance (not that OMG TIGER WOODS IS COMING BACK isn’t), please share share share!  You can also grab my RSS thinger, follow me on Twitter, or just come to my site and read stuff the old fashioned way.  Whatever tickles your pickle.

{Also, thanks to Kyle and Fiona for their recent donations to the blog.}


Alright, I’m on to hockey, calm down.


We’ve all accepted that agitators are a part of hockey.  They always have been.  But let’s call a spade a spade today, because frankly, it’s fun to do.

They’re phonies.

A legit NHLer that doesn't need to play so douchey.

Their style of play is a cop out for effective hockey.  When they aren’t performing well, they always have the fail-safe option of flapping their gums in the direction of their opponent, and suddenly everyone thinks they’re “in the game”. 

Even their coach might say “Look at that guy, he’s the only one who cares tonight.”


O-VER  RATE-ED clap-clap-clapclapclap. 

For some reason, the fans love them, yet they have zero positive effect on their teams chances of winning, unless they’re actually playing the quality hockey that so many of them are capable of.  Zero percent, because for every time their antics help a team win, it’s balanced by them costing their team a game.

In this sport, what does “rattling” your opponent do?  Fire him up?  — It’s hockey, not golf.  I understand head games when you’re playing a guy who has to stand over a four foot million dollar putt, but getting someone more involved and revved up in a physical game?  All these idiots do is wake sleeping beasts.

There are times when they draw penalties, sure.  But to do that, you need to sneak in a few spears and trips, which means they end up taking a few along the way themselves.  These guys hear “poser” and “clown” and “phony” on repeat, because their peers know what they are.  They’re doing whatever they need to do to draw a paycheck, but it’s not in a respectable way.  It’s indecent proposal on skates – would you intentionally injure people for a million dollars?  Apparently, yes.

Name me a completely clean agitator that’s get devoid of a “questionable” play in their career.  Cooke?  Burrows? Hartnell?  Downie?  Carcillo?  Avery?  Somewhere along the line they all take it too far. (Honest question: I rarely see the Wild play, but Clutterbuck is getting a bit of a reputation for being effective.  Is he both an “agitator” and still without incident?  Maybe he’s the rule’s exception.)

Thanks for the pixels, person I stole this from.

In playing that role, you know that’s the case.  You know at some point you “might” hurt someone.   Your coach knows that’s probably going to happen too, so he lives with his fingers crossed that it just doesn’t cost the team a penalty.

How many times can you watch a forward make a just-a-split-second-later-than-necessary attempted hit, miss the guy and make a ruckus on the glass, and still rise to your feet and applaud?

The difference between those worthy of our respect is just so unmistakable: If Jerome Iginla feels someone did something that needs answering, he drops the gloves from his Hall-of-Fame 50-goal scoring hands and fights.  If Vincent Lecavalier needs to get his team going, he’ll do the same.

But when Sean Avery goes to fill his role, he skates by the opposing bench, taunts someone, hacks someones laces, agrees to fight then leaves his gloves on to draw a penalty.  There’s no honor there.  But enjoy your celebrity, dude.

These guys have always been in the game, from my Dad’s day to mine.  They aren’t going anywhere, and I’m not proposing they do.  I’m just proposing we open our eyes and stop cheering for them.

Friday Free-For-All


So, Steven Seagal: Lawman is a real show, huh?  I’m getting a kick out of TV just mailing it in right now.

I long for natural selection.

I long for natural selection.

They’re like, eff it, people just want to stare at their TV and call other people idiots anyways (whether it’s CNN or MTV), so make “Jersey Shore” a show.  And yes, let’s do more seasons of The City and Hills.  MTV, you’re just so good at sucking, any new suggestions?  Bully Beatdown? Tough Love?  It all sounds great.  Get ‘em made.  People will hate it, then watch anyways.  Why?  Because there’s nothing but crap on any channel, dipshit.”





Readers from earlier this year know I’m a sucker for golf majors.  Like, during The Masters, I have a no-leaving-the-house rule on the weekend. If Tiger somehow botched my weekend with his whole debacle, he’s got bigger problems than a shattered marriage and tarnished public image.  I’m flying to Windemere to finish the job his wife started with that nine-iron.

On another Tiger note – if you’re the girl, are you crazy to let that phone message out, knowing what it’ll do to his wife and family?  Or are you crazy to not accept the money?  Do you have zero obligation to not chuck him under the front wheels of the bus at that point?  I guess bangin’ a married guy sort of eliminates any chance you’re concerned about his wife, huh?


Looking for reviews on Bud Lights “Golden Wheat”.


Okay guys, it’s time to talk. 

Say something about it, I dare you...

Say something about it, I dare you...

Bad news….  Most of us are over the mustache thing. 

Sucks right?  They were such a gold mine of humour for so many years.  But too many people are in on the joke now.  And like mullets, some people still rock them despite our culture’s obvious penchant for verbally abusing the owner, so those people can still be the butt-end of a few cookie-duster barbs.  But for the most part… it’s over.  Someone tell George Parros (and I suggest you do it nicely).

(Sidebar – we all agree he rocks the ‘stache just so he can get somebody to talk shit, and thus give himself more chances to justify his role on the team as a fighter, right?)


So I got thinking, in the wake of Tiger sleeping with more people than Ambien… who are our holy saints now?

Here’s the best of what we got left.  Top three.

Wanna see me comb my hair, really fast?

Wanna see me comb my hair, really fast?

Third Place: Albert Pujols (as Deadspin pointed out)

It’s amazing that his name hasn’t come up in any steroid allegations for two reasons.  One, he’s built like from-ten-years-ago never-that-popular cartoon character Johnny Bravo.  And two, during the steroid era, all he’s done is hit the stuffing out of the ball, every year, consistently and politely, while winning MVP awards.  But it’s baseball, so I’m less inclined to care (Go Mets!).

Second Place: Lebron James

The homie’s still only 25, but for a man with stature like his, the slate is pretty damn sparkly.

First Place: Sid “I’m taking over Tigers ‘most boring athlete’ title” Crosby

If you found out Sid was up to some dirt, you’d be floored, wouldn’t you?  Anything beyond a speeding ticket from the guy and I’d be completely befuddled.  The carefully cultivated image, the boring-but-proper interviews…. he’s Tiger, minus the mystique.  He really does seem straight up bland.  By the way, is he still living at Lemieux’s, does anyone know?  That’s officially well past acceptable if he is.  Hey, wait a second… maybe Brendan Burke will have some support soon!

[*Note - Blog has been up for two hours, and I've already been dominated by two reader suggestions.  Joe Mauer and Peyton Manning should definitely be on that list.  Or a longer one, at worst.]


Frrrrrriiiiiiiiiidddddddaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy!  And I’m ready to admit it’s almost Christmas.  And almost my birthday.  And still 70 degrees here.  All of which, you may have noticed, are great things.  So have a wonderful weekend, peeps.  Lookin’ forward to the comments!



5. A Christmas Carol
4. A Charlie Brown Christmas
3. The Grinch Who Stole Christmas
2. It’s a Wonderful Life
1. Christmas Vacation}

Friday at The Masters


Before I launch into today’s golf coverage, I just want to make quick mention about another big sports day coming up: April 14th. 

NHL draft lottery day, where enduring a season of misery has earned the Islanders the scant 48% chance of securing John Tavares.  Apparently Hedman’s no slouch, but that organization can hardly afford anything less than the best.  After all, how else will Kansas City win the cup in 2012?  (Cool it Isles fans, I’m just playin’, I’m just playin’…)

And as mentioned in yesterday’s comments, that Bruin’s/Canadiens game yesterday was dynamite.  Bill Simmons, the sports writer who broke up with the Bruins years ago citing lockout related differences, has vowed to take them back for playoffs.  I think he’ll like his new girlfriend.

Friday at the Masters:

1.  Danny Lee, the 18 year old Japa Chi Kor Asian kid that was making his Masters debut, had this to say in his pre-tournament press conference: “The first time I played the course, I didn’t understand why so many players struggled here.  It’s an easy course”.  I’m glad that as Colin Montgomery limps into the sunset of his career, I have a new player to hate on the horizon.  Lee was 11 over par after two days, only 20 shots back.  Musta got some tough bounces.

2.  Serious Leaderboard assessment:

Saturday is “moving day” in golf, where the stage gets set for Sunday, and anyone who plans on contending to win better make their move up the board.  Maybe the biggest name aren’t on the top of the board, but they’ve all got a foot on the bottom rung of the ladder.  Woods (-2), Mickelson (-3) and Garcia (-4) are poised with a host of other big names to fire at some flags and make their move.

The scary thing for those guys, is that it’s not just one player up there around nine under, it’s a handful.  Somebody is going to continue to play well, so players can’t count on somebody faltering, like Woods needed O’Hair to do last week.  At 48, Kenny Perry is a legitimate threat to win, far more dangerous that some of the other names near the top.

If none of the other top guns get hot tomorrow, Jim Furyk and Anthony Kim are a couple names not likely to move the wrong way down the board.  I almost mentioned before the tournament that Kim is a guy who needs to play poorly to not contend.  His B-game is better than most players A.  He made 11 birdies yesterday, a Masters course record, en route to shooting the low round of the day, 65.

I was right yesterday in guessing minus nine would lead heading into the weekend.  I think it’ll be 10 under heading into Sunday, meaning that dangerous group at two under will need to shoot around 67 to get into the mix for Sunday.

Bad weather is the best thing that could happen to Tiger’s chances.  He can deal with it, others can’t.

3.  Less serious assessment:

Phil has made headway into de-stuffing his shirts, but something still doesn’t look right.  The guy is definitely thin enough now to where I shouldn’t be seeing nipple.  Maybe his under-shirt issues go beyond a once-evident brownie batter fetish.

Tiger rocked the baby-blue on black today, and looked better.  I think everyday these guys dress they should picture a highlight being shown in 15 years and avoid anything that would make the kids in 2024 go “really?”.  Because, Tom Kite’s glasses, really

Apparently, straight from the course to racquetball.

I’ve got a few more tidbits on today’s play, but I’m back in Kelowna, and my brother is apparently making seafood wraps and caesar salad.  This, I gotta see.

Everyone enjoy your weekend, and remember the coverage switches to CBS, and gets even better tomorrow.  See ya then.

The Masters: Par Three Tournament


First things first – boo to all you “golf fans” who let me say that Nick Price is the next Johnny Miller.  I meant Nick Faldo.  Regardless, we still do have Johnny, so we can revel in him at his commentating peak, right when Tiger and Phil are in primes of their own.  This is good stuff folks.

So day one coverage: The Masters par three tournament, a warm-up the day before the big event, the day the kids play caddie, and the day that actual golf fans try to sever their optical nerve with with a sand wedge because it hurts less than watching.

It’s just so corny.  One of the many reasons The Masters is so great are those corny montages that show pink flowers and play classical piano, but only because it’s a nice breather from the suffocating pressure of the golf.

Guys describe it as “respite before the storm” and enjoy that they get to ”see guys have fun” – commentators glorify it so much gay pride marchers would find them flamboyant.  It’s a love-fest, a deep-breath before the exhale.  It’s weak.

Guys have their kids caddy for them, and by caddy, I mean ramble along in cute little white caddy outfits while the nation collectively sighs “awww…”.  It’s sickening.

–Hahaha so cute, look, its – No. stop it, I hate kids.–

Regardless, it’s at Augusta, and I’d rub my face on that grass if they’d let me within rubbing range.  So here’s a couple observations from it:

*Nobody has ever won the par three tournament and then won The Masters, so guys consider it a jinx.  Players report intentionally hitting balls into the water to avoid winning it.  I wonder if any of those idiots ever succeeded in the big tournament.  I can’t exactly see Tiger hoseling a shot into a pond for superstitious purposes.  Maybe just be better at golf guys, I dunno.

*Fred Couples is playin’ well.  Boom-Boom of the bad-back has made a resurgence this year, no doubt thanks to technologies introduced in the physiotherapy world, like muscle relaxers and pain killers.  He’s 49 and been in contention on two Sundays this PGA season alone, and was one shot back of winning the nine hole tourny before I puked in my mouth from footage of cute kids turned it off cause I was tired.

*And last, I didn’t know the players picked their playing partners.  This enables Jack Nicklaus, Arnie Palmer and Gary Player to play in the same group, combining for about 220 years, nine billion wins and six grand in total earnings, because they played in the 50′s through 80′s. 

Okay, maybe a little more.

On the ninth hole, Gary Player hit one in the water, re-teed, and jammed it in the hole for a fancy-pants three.  He then proceeded to pound (knuckles) Arnold Palmer.  Really, 80-year-old-white-guys?  Black folks, it’s officially over.  Today, I proclaim the pound dead to non-golfers (us golfers still need it to avoid the awkward “great shot!” moments). 

Okay!  Tomorrow, one o’clock west coast time, four on the east, the real fun begins.  Details to come.

(PS – If you have time and haven’t read my take on socially awkward greetings, you can check it out at:

Some House-Cleaning

Bourne’s Blogers:

For a guy who’s only common complaint from friends is an excess of content, I fear for my readers in the near future.

My current life is a bit frazzled.  I’m heading home to Kelowna to help Dad with the bookings and marketing of his Legends camp, and sadly, will be attending my Grandmothers funeral.  Sweetest lady ever.

On a brighter note, I’m still being asked to put out steady amounts of work for other sites.  That keeps me plenty busy, so combining that with finishing my last class towards my degree by April 21st, and my little journal of notes has become full of more crap than an outhouse.  Let’s have a few stupid comments before I start with The Masters and Playoffs (did I mention those were coming up?).

But first: I’m in the Seattle airport, a lob wedge away from the spot I spent 40 plus hours just days before Christmas.  Jaw wired shut, bringing my girlfriend home for her first Christmas with the family, I forgot my passport like a 12 year old.  She had to go on to Kelowna while I waited for my passport.  It got sent out within hours… just in time for the airport to close due to weather.  I drank Odwalla smoothies and pain medicine, and tried to figure out how high a jetway would have to be for me to jump off and die, instead of just wounding me further.  Sadly, nothing met the minimum requirements.


Everyone likes a good burger to bun ratio right?  I was looking at buying those mini potato buns and making my patties the size of frisbees, until I stumbled into the bunless burgers at TGI Fridays.  Now that’s a ratio.  What they’ve done, is taken the bun out of the equation.  It’s very complicated.  Somebody notify the people who award the Nobel Prize for Meat Ratios, these guys accomplished a solid 1:0.  They still give out that award, right?


Nick Price is the next Johnny Miller.  Lately I’ve been concerned at the age of my favourite sportscasters (mostly because they’ve been collecting social security since it’s inception). 

I mean, if we lose Madden (heart attack), Bob Cole and Harry Neale (sadness at the Leafs perpetually high suck-factor), Dick Vitale (heart attack), and Johnny Miller (jealousy, when he realizes we’ll never think he was in Jack Nicklaus’s class), who do we have left?  Absolutely nobody in hockey (Pierre McGuire can puck himself).  But don’t fear golf fans.  Nick Price thinks everyone sucks too, and with the accent, it sounds classy.  Throw another shrimp on the barbe, Nick.


A couple times I’ve written things in my journal after an extra drink or two, and the next day, I can never quite figure out what I meant to say.  Help?

Seth Rogen movie machine (I assume I had a negative take?) — Fred Couples crush (ummm….) — Hate the Devils — No Mo Plaxico — Ron Dugay (what the….) — Pepper salad (….I guesss… so…).


Daily Show correspondents.  No show is churning out pop culture stars like this show, not even SNL.  Okay, maybe SNL.  But these guys get like a one minute skit and blow up.  Steve Carrel.  Steven Colbert.  Rob Corddry.  There’s more, but I’m banging this out before my flight so you get about the same amount of research out of me right now that any of my “intro to…” professors got.


That Heineken commercial is hilarious (it’s in Dutch or something, but you’ll get it):


Alright!  Starting tommorrow I’ll be getting actual hockey information from Canadian sportscasters.  Gotta love it.  The blog is lookin’ up, hockey fans!