WGN Morning News Blog

Ever since I signed my first autograph for someone, I've never asked to receive one. Actually, that's not true. I have requested autographs since, but I haven't kept one (and I also haven't paid for my brother's birthday present in 9 years).

I'm really not interested in them, and for this I blame the people who've sought my signature. You've destroyed the whole autograph mystique for me. When I'm signing a picture for someone (or a postcard, which is what the station now has us sign because they cost less than glossy 8X10's), I'm thinking to myself: "Who in their right mind wants MY signed photo?"

So I figure, if I'm thinking that when I sign something, then someone else must be thinking the same thing when I ask for their signature. Certainly there are exceptions- some people act like they're giving up a kidney when they sign for you- but overall, I gotta think this feeling is pretty universal.

I couldn't even imagine if I got paid for my signature. The same action that authorizes the release of my medical records, is also a paid service???? I've paid for one autograph in my life- a Don Mattingly signed baseball back in 1992, and that was only because I was 14 and already had every card from the '92 Topps set. Since then, I've spent my money on things like college loans and heat.

Yet, the sports memorabilia industry endures. I recently attended the biggest sports memorabilia show in the country, and came away shocked that 14-year old me had so much in common with today's grown men.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Every 6 weeks or so, we get a notable sports guest to wake up at an un-Godly hour and join us live. This morning, we suckered 4 people into appearing, which means we probably wont have another live guest until November.

Ultimate Fighting Championship President Dana White was here with 2 of his fighters- Patrick "The Predator" Cote, and the pound-for-pound king of mixed martial arts, Anderson "The Spider" Silva. Anderson is a soft-spoken, mild-mannered, unassuming Brazilian man who could dismantle your body in less time than it'd take you to pour a bowl of cereal. Cote is the man who will fight him at UFC 90, which is October 25 at All State Arena.

Later on in the show, Cubs second baseman Mike Fontenot stopped by. He failed to make a quick getaway, though, and got roped in to coming back some time. Maybe the prospect of another free stack of pancakes (or the chance to sit down with me) was too much to resist. We commiserated about being short, talked about his pre-game ritual with Carlos Zambrano, and Mike gave us a prediction for the rest of the season.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Get ready for the NFL's version of the Beverly Hillbillies. Brett Favre is moving from Green Bay to the biggest media market in the country- New York (technically, northern New Jersey). Let's examine some of the lifestyle changes Favre is certain to encounter.

Giants Stadium is mere miles from the Manhattan skyline, and a 5-minute car ride to a major international airport. Lambeau Field is next to a Shopko.

Fans in Green Bay are generally very friendly, well-behaved and supportive. Fans in New York throw snowballs and boo Santa Claus.

In Green Bay, people use the F-word only in extreme circumstances. In New York, it's required to insert some form of the F-word between "this" and "guy" at all times.

And then there are the differences between the media . . . .

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 12:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I recently found the following e-mail in my inbox:

"There's Pat on the blog again . . . and not only does he post his writing, but he needs to post video of himself doing his fantastically funny bits. Oh Pat, thou dost love thyself too much."

Enough Tomasulo Already

So what's wrong with loving yourself? I think if more people learned to love themselves, they'd be better at loving others. Of course, there are always dangers to loving oneself too much (chafing, becoming a shut-in, etc.), but I don't believe I'm at that point.

Well said Robin. Well said.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 11:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The only TV I usually can't ignore is the kind that features scantily-clad ladies, or competitive eating contests (a combination of the 2 is even more irresistible), but even these I sometimes get sick of. So I was intrigued when I learned this was the new slogan of the recently re-branded WGN Superstation. It is now . . .

WGN America: TV You Can't Ignore.

The WGN cable channel that reaches millions, and has exposed a new generation of viewers to shows like"Homicide: Life on the Street" and "Barney Miller," is undergoing quite the facelift. It's part of the new ownership's plan to re-invent Tribune, and a move I believe was long overdue.

So I'm on board with whatever they need, and recently, that involved me going out and spreading the word about this new and exciting venture.

*I'd like to thank my friends at Windy City Pro Wrestling for their help in this outstanding campaign. They put on some of the finest pro wrestling shows in Illinois! Check them out at http://www.windycityprowrestling.com

**ALSO, a friend of mine is organizing a big charity golf outing on Monday at Arrowhead Golf Club, with proceeds going to the development program and renovation of exhibits at Cosley Zoo. If you live out that way, stop by. Here are the details:

Monday, August 4 • Arrowhead Golf Club

Enjoy…
• Continental Breakfast/Registration (8 a.m.)
• 18 Holes of Golf with Cart (10 a.m. Shotgun Scramble Start)
• Lunch
• Steak Dinner…with all the trimmings (5 p.m.)
• Great Prizes & Awards
• Thank You Gift
• One-of-a-Kind Raffle & Auction

Registration
$150 per person (grouped in sixsomes)
Registration forms are not yet available for this event.

Sponsorship Opportunities
Call 630-665-5534 for sponsorship or registration information. Hole sponsorships only $150!

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I probably shouldn't say this, but one of my favorite things to watch on TV is a news reporter getting harassed during a live report. Hecklers attempt this in a number of ways: 1) some stand there innocently, glancing back and forth from the camera to the monitor and back again, checking themselves out; 2) some jump up and down, screaming and yelling; and 3) some expose themselves.

I've done both #1 and #2 in a past life, but never #3. A true heckler knows the rules of etiquette. That means no harassment when the story is serious or sober in nature. If it's a story about a violent crime, you're to be simply a bystander. If the reporter is covering a county fair, you're free to hop on his back for a piggy back ride.

Sports reporters are usually most susceptible to this type of torment. That's because most of them still insist on doing their live shots "in the crowd," a concept that was first devised 230 years ago. Now, we have studio shows being shot on location, too. Yet, surprisingly, they've been pretty sheltered from abuse.

Thankfully, our neighbors to the North have given us a few ideas on how to change that.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Racecar drivers have a tendency to lose their tempers. It's not rare to see them hurling their helmets at passing cars, T-boning someone during a caution lap, or extending their middle fingers at a race official. If we're lucky, these moments are caught by television cameras, and replayed incessantly. I can't think of a hilite I enjoy more than watching 2 burly, sweaty men in jumpsuits a size-too-small chase each other around a garage.

But the advent of women . . . excuse me, the advent of Danica Patrick in motorsports has changed the dynamic a little bit. She has quite the temper, that one, and has confronted other drivers on a few, well-publicized occasions. But here's the difference between Danica and most of the other drivers- when they become enraged, there's a good chance someone might get kicked; when Danica becomes enraged, there's a good chance she might get choked up.

That's not funny. It's kind of annoying.

And don't read into this as a man vs. woman stereotype. When I was a kid, I got into plenty of arguments with my mother, and believe me, she was never the one left near tears. Or how about my female colleagues? Not exactly the crying types.

Neither is Milka Dunno- the other female driver in the Indy Car circuit. She's no less emotional than Danica, but she expresses it like most of the male drivers out there- with borderline violence. Here's a look at a confrontation between the two over the weekend in Ohio.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 8:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Back when I was strictly a sports reporter, there was nothing I looked forward to more than a good post-game press conference. Pure joy if there ever was such a thing- the intimacy of your question being answered in the company of dozens; irritable coaches being asked "what went wrong" in their team's 12-0 loss; counting how many times someone says "to a man."

As if there were a way to make this sometimes insufferable experience even worse, athletes now occasionally bring their children to these postgame Q&A's. Nothing kills a soundbite worse than cliches, quite like a 3-year old biting a microphone head. Reporters often greet such behavior with obligatory laughter at the child's antics, but let me tell you something- they want to string that kid from a coat rack.

I don't blame them. Number one, they're on a deadline. And number 2, unless I'm a pediatrician, I don't want to see kids in my workplace, period- at least not unnanounced. We have "Take Your Child to Work Day" for a reason- so the rest of us know the exact day we'll need an extra Xanax.

You may think I'm overreacting, that there are only a handful of athletes who do this. I say it's much more common than you may think, and I offer this video as proof.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 8:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the challenges we've been given by the new Tribune ownership is to re-invent the way we produce television. They want us to re-examine all of our shows and consider ways to improve them, whether by doing something revolutionary, or by simply making some minor adjustments.

It's not a challenge we're taking lightly.

This year's baseball All Star game provided us with the perfect opportunity to reach for greatness. In the past, if we had 11 representatives from Chicago in the game, we may have sent a few reporters and camera people, and filed live reports. About what? Well, we'd probably just do a few game previews, and some profiles of the 11 guys. But where's the fun in that?

We're learning that personality is what viewers desire. Management still insisted we go to New York. So, begrudingly, we did. But I really think that in spite of that, we delivered what our viewers want.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

One of the challenges of doing a show like ours is maintaining that delicate balance between news and fun. What happens if we're scheduled to run a piece where Speedoman wrestles 2 Hooters Girls, and there's major breaking news?

Nine times out of 10, news wins out.

The Milwaukee Brewers were facing a similar decision yesterday, but this was one of those 1 in 10 situations . Their plan was to sabotage recently-named All Star Corey Hart's press conference, and spray him with beer. And the fact that Hart's 2-year old daughter was sitting on his lap did little to dissuade them.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Richard Petty reminds me of Richard Simmons. Not because he's hyper, has an afro, or is slightly effeminate, but because you never see the guy out of costume- a cowboy hat and dark shades are his bedazzled shirt and short shorts (it's probably the more appropriate ensemble for a guy named "The King").

He told me that he's tried to go incognito, and not wear the hat and shades, but still gets noticed. This was purely an experiment, as The King never hides from his fans. And that's why he's still NASCAR's most recognizable figure, even at 71 years old. You could put stars like Jeff Gordon, Tony Stewart, and points leader Kyle Busch in the same room, and if The King walked in, he would OWN it.

There's a lot to like about Richard Petty. There's also a lot not to like. For instance, he's 71 and still has about 5% body fat; he has enough stamina to out-work guys a third his age; and he has a full-enough head of hair. After my last haircut, I can't say the same about myself.

When he visited the show this morning, it was like we'd known each other 10 years. The man is a geuine Southern gentleman, and befitting of the name "King" for more than his racing.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 8:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

There are a number of things I agree with my colleague Paul Konrad on: horses ARE useless; Oprah IS the Devil; and Robin HAS a dirty mouth.

But one thing I don't agree with him on is the merit of those "look-a-likes" that viewers send in. I personally think they're phenomenal, and dead-on. I mean, Dean looks exactly like Bob Newhart, doesn't he? I wish I could say the look-a-like comparisons that I get are that good. Gilbert Gottfried? Pastor Joel Osteen? Tom Cruise?

Please.

That's why I'm offering my own look-a-like. Watch below to see it, and let me know what you think.

*Following my look-a-like comparison, I've posted more of our coverage of Wimbledon champ Rafael Nadal.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 11:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I feel a little left out today. Apparently, the greatest tennis match of all time occurred yesterday, and I was too busy flipping through CNN, Benny Hill Ministries, and a showing of "Zoolander" on TNT. I checked in on Federer-Nadal a few times, but then went about my day. Stupid me.

Of course, I could have tuned in after my day had been gone about. At 4 hours, 48 minutes long, the match was still going on. And I think this would have been my only realistic chance of experiencing this monumental event.

Because there's no way I'm watching 5 hours of tennis.

I've pondered this long and hard, and at this point in my life, I don't think there's anything I'd enjoy doing for 5 hours straight. And this includes all the experiences from my college years. Pub crawls, double features, poker tournaments, Tantra- not for me.

Those I've talked to who watched the Wimbledon final say it flew by, and as an avid sports fan, I can understand this. Sometimes when you're in the moment of a live sporting event (especially one as captivating and historically significant as this one supposedly was), you're not in your right mind. During the Knicks-Bulls Playoff matchups of the 90's, I'd sit through 6 hours of NBA doubleheaders.

But I was 13.

Now I'm a grown man, with grown up responsibilities, and my conscience simply won't allow that. I can't imagine if I somehow got sucked into 5 hours of tennis. I'd have slash marks on my back from the self-flagellation! (though I must admit, tennis is probably very low on my "Sports That Could Suck Me In For 5 Straight Hours" list).

Believe me, I'm regretting that I didn't have a strategic plan to maximize my Wimbledon viewing yesterday. I missed out terribly. But I'm not like my friends who watched that entire match. They're a different breed, the kind that likes marathons and chess.

And part-time employment.

*Thankfully, for those like me who didn't watch the entire match, there was plenty of coverage. Champion Rafael Nadal faced reporters, and answered their questions . . . at least the ones that made sense:

Posted by Brandi Larsen at 12:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

What's in a name? Apparently a lot. Pat shares his musings on the nickname of the newest Bulls player, Derrick Rose.

Posted by Brandi Larsen at 7:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Ten-time world boxing champ Oscar De La Hoya stopped by the show today.When we were introduced, I gave him a good, firm handshake, which no superstar boxer I've met has ever reciprocated. When you box thousands of rounds, you break bones, and when your livelihood lies in fragile hands, you don't engage in tests of manhood with every Joe you meet.

Yet I continue to grip million dollar hands like they're safety bars on a roller coaster.

I explained to Oscar that I shook Floyd Mayweather's hand the same way, though, and he seemed to forgive me. Mayweather retired last week, so it looks like the megafight rematch between these two won't happen. That leaves Oscar opponent-shopping for what he says will be the final fight of his illustrious career.

I offered up a few suggestions, and talked to Oscar about his new book.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

My favorite baseball manager/coach tirade of all time is Lee Elia. For me, there is no equal, no comparison, no challenger. Elia is King. End of story.

But I may have a new entry on my Top 10.

First, a little more on Elia. You hear people describe intense or traumatic events in their life, and the phrase, "the next thing I know . . . ," is often used. I imagine that's how it was for Elia. Someone asked him a question, he blacked out, and the next thing he knew, someone told him he'd dropped 45 F-bombs in 3 minutes. He didn't expect to do this- it was completely spontaneous.

Last night in Seattle, Mariners Manager John McLaren experienced a similar eruption. Notice I didn't use the word "meltdown," because that suggests an element of surprise. McLaren's tirade was pre-meditated, and for that reason, I argue it may be more impressive. It was noticeably shorter than Elia's (only about 40 seconds), but packed with nearly as many profane words.

Which means . . . he had to concentrate on being that foul, something a person who's gone berserk (i.e. Elia) simply cannot do.

Take a look and judge for yourself.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 11:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm embarassed to admit it, but I completely forgot the NBA Draft Lottery was on last night. I was watching the Sox game, when along the bottom of the screen came the words: "BREAKING NEWS." Now, being a regular viewer of ESPN News, I've become conditioned to those 2 words preceding headlines like these:

"Lorena Ochoa will skip Swiss Bank Open (shoulder)"

"Penguins sign D Sergei Gonchar to 2-year extension through 2011" . . . . and . . .

"Programming change: Hawks vs Blazers moved from ESPN to ESPN2"

Naturally, I only paid half-attention to what this "breaking news" actually was. But when it stayed up longer than I could tolerate, I glanced down to carefully read the headline. It was shortly after I finished, that I stopped paying attention to the person I was on the phone with.

My first thought? Derrick Rose is coming home. But the Bulls can't go wrong with Rose or Michael Beasley- the pick will ultimately be decided by which guys they're able to trade to balance out the roster. If dealing some guards nets them a better return, Rose is the pick; if dealing some big men does it, then Beasley is the pick.

The next 10 years of Bulls basketball were forever altered last night. I just wish I would have been able to experience it live. And after watching tape of it this morning, I really wish I could have experienced it live.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I think we cover women's sports pretty adequately on this show. It's never enough for some viewers, but that's pretty universal- no one ever thinks their favorite sport or favorite team gets enough attention. I get it. But I'm trying to maintain a balance here, between what the majority of our audience wants to see, and how we can make interesting that which they don't care to.

Hence, my dilemma with showing myself on camera.

We're staunch proponents of women's sports here on the morning show. Beach volleyball, gymnastics, wrestling- any time we can find a local angle in any of these sports, we'll show hilites. If the Sky had a game the previous night, we'll show the hilites; if the Sky had a game 3 nights ago, we won't show hilites. If a female golfer wins a tournament, we might show hilites; if a female golfer wins a tournament and then jumps in a big pond on the course, we'll definitely show hilites.

(Do you see what I mean about striking that balance?)

I recently got an e-mail from someone who's satisfied with our coverage of the Chicago Sky, but naturally wants more. Again, I understand. It's the last part of her e-mail that has me confused.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't have any concrete evidence to back this up, but I believe Ricky Williams is the only man in history to quit the NFL so he could smoke marijuana full-time. I'm not judging- he obviosuly found an activity he enjoyed more than playing football. We should all be so passionate about something in our lives, though I would suggest something legal.

Ricky is a former Texas Longhorn, much like Cedric Benson, and the two are friendly. Apparently, they're so friendly that WIlliams nearly accompanied Benson on his boat trip the night he was pepper sprayed and waterboarded. He declined Benson's invitation, and now he's wondering what might have been . . .

Also, earlier in the week I told you about my new blog segment: "Mailing it in." This is where I will answer viewers' questions. I presumed most of the questions would be about sports. Instead, most of them have been about my makeup, doing someone else's homework assignment, and me considering a second career as a drag queen. I will be answering some of these questions Monday right here on the blog. There's still time to submit questions. Click below to do so. Check back Monday after the show for our first installment of . . .
Mailing It In.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 7:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Since Mike D'Antoni spurned the Bulls for the Knicks, the field of candidates has expanded considerably. It now includes former Mavs coach Avery Johnson, Pistons assistant Michael Curry, DePaul's assistant athletic trainer, the guy across the street who coaches Lane Tech, and my neighbor who's teaching his 7-year old son how to bounce pass . . . among others.

I don't know how Knicks President Donnie Walsh convinced D'Antoni to lead that bunch of misfits. The Bulls roster is obviously imcomplete and unbalanced, but in terms of comparing shipwrecks- the Bulls are the S.S. Minnow; the Knicks are the freakin' Titanic!

And from reading all the interviews with Jerry Reinsdorf and John Paxson, I'm pretty sure they even know how to say D'Antoni's name, which is more than I can say for Walsh . . .

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I seem to have reached the age where I often think about my mortality. Not only that, but where will I be in 20 years? 40 years? What will I be doing? Am I going to be happy? Will I be 100 pounds heavier? Will my lady?!?!

It's all been very traumatic.

If I had to guess, I'd say 50 years from now I will have finally saved enough money to retire. Of course, I'd probably only live out about 5 years of that retirement. So in that time, I think I'll be doing all the stuff I missed out on while working this shift, like- watch prime time programming, eat dinner after 4:00 P.M., and go to sleep when it's dark out.

Then again, maybe I'll have an entirely different lifestyle to look forward to.

If you ever have the desire to look like I will in 50 years, the fine people at Fantasy Costumes will help you achieve it. Visit them at . .
http://www.fantasycostumes.com

And how about that scooter I was driving! 0 - 6 MPH in 1.6 seconds! In 50 years I'll be buying mine from Home Care Plus, Inc.
http://www.homecareplusinc.com/

As for the decorative storage case that Larry, Robin and Paul will be living in 50 years from now? That will be provided by the fine folks at Benson Funeral Home. You can visit them (hopefully not for many, many years) at:

3224 W. Montrose Ave
Chicago, 60618

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I got the chance to interview pro golfer John Daly a few years back when I worked in Buffalo. Never before, or since, have I met a sports figure so willing to discuss ANYTHING. From his problems with substance abuse in the past, to his wiveS, to his physique, to the advantages and disadvantages of gasoline vs diesel fuel, there was no question he would not answer.

We spent about a half hour together, and not once did I sense the slightest bit of discomfort from the man, with the questions I was asking, or . . say . . . from simply meeting someone for the first time. Perhaps the dozen cigarettes he smoked, or the 4 Diet Cokes he drank, settled his nerves. I should probably note that we met in the Presidential Suite of a brand-new hotel overlooking Niagara Falls.

I imagine smoking was probably not encouraged.

I'm sure he would have put away the smokes if asked, but it probably didn't even occur to him. He seems to be one of those people who possesses zero self-awareness. And when I say zero, I mean ZERO. I think people like that come along once every 7,000 years.

As you will see from this video, I don't think John Daly hasn't changed much since we met 4 years ago.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Eighteen, 19- and 20-year old kids are common in sports, but they usually don't look their age. Most of the great teenage athletes of our time appear old enough to buy life insurance, let alone a cocktail- Mike Tyson, Lebron James, Greg Oden. The rest at least acted as if they were older- Wayne Gretzky, Kobe Bryant, Martina Hingis. But the Blackhawks' Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews don't act, or look older than they are.

And that's why they're so much fun.

First off, both look as if they've been yanked outta study hall- shirts untucked, pants too baggy, hair too long (at least Kane's). I bet neither guy could even guess his jacket size within 2 measurements. And accessories? Their jewelry doesn't get any gaudier than a watch that also tells the weather, and the last time either guy had a shoeshine was Junior Prom.

Hearing them interviewed is always refreshing. Neither one speaks in canned sound bites or cliches. And do you know why? Because they don't know any yet! In time they will. So for now, cherish the rambling, stammering, meandering answers they provide.

Both are handsome, talented, wealthy 19-year olds. There's little they can't afford, few ventures they can't pursue, and even fewer young ladies who'd turn them down. But how do you entertain a lovely co-ed when you don't have your own place? Kane lives with the Hawks Assistant GM . . . and his wife and kids!

When I see Kane and Toews interviewed together, it's like watching 2 goofy kids. Not young men, not young professionals- kids. And it's been so long since I saw 2 athletes so unblemished, so unjaded, and so genuine. How long?

My entire life!

Posted by WGN Morning News at 9:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

When my grandmother was younger, she used to walk to the movie theatre (it was a little over a mile each way). And by younger, I mean when she was 81. Being a big movie fan myself, we'd often talk about her outings.

"Grandma, what'd you go see?"

"Bad Boys 2."

"What?!?"

"Bad Boys 2. I like that Will Smith. He's cute."

I was usually most impressed that she enjoyed the same type of gratuitious violence, filthy language and unnecessary sex that her 25-year old grandson so valued in today's cinema. But I was also impressed that she trucked it 3 miles roundtrip on the hard pavement of New York City. Most of her peers in the building had to stop every 50 yards or so to adjust their oxygen tanks.

In my near-decade of sportscasting, though, I've learned of people her age (and older) doing stuff way more grueling- running marathons, completing triathlons, surfing, BULL-RIDING! Their accomplishments defy logic and the laws of nature. These people are extraordinary, and their feats have left me with one indisputable, irrefutable, undeniable conclusion.

They are aliens.

I'm still a young man and my list of physical ailments is longer than Van Halen's rider sheet. I have a herniated disc in my neck, a bulging disc in my neck, occasional fluid build-up on my knee, and some type of undiagnosed arthritic condition in both of my hips. If I go run 3 miles right now, I'll be walking like The Penguin for the next 3 days.

So you see, there's no way any legitimate 85-year old is climbing Mt. Everest. Not unless they lived during Biblical times, when people lived to, like, 800, and 85-year olds were basically 12.

That said, it's time to send this guy back to his mothership, however old he is.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Screaming talking heads on ESPN are far from a novelty. They have a lot of yellers on that payroll. But I wouldn't consider Digger Phelps to be one of them. That's why I was surprised (and thoroughly amused) when I saw Digger (poop) a chicken after Monday's National Championship Game.

Digger and the rest of the Gameday crew were discussing whether or not Memphis should have fouled with a 3-point lead. That's when he took on the ENTIRE crew, including The General!

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 6:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

College basketball's National Champion was crowned last night, which means, so too was the winner of the 2nd Annual WGN Morning News Office Pool. The team of Hoops 83, coached by hotcorner8983 (in case you care to Yahoo! message them congratulatory notes) bested the field of 500.

I was close behind in 308th place, just 89 points out. In plain terms . . .

I got WORKED!

I haven't received a beating that bad since my older brother learned how to wrestle. But that was understandable- he was in high school, and I was a pudgy 5th grader sporting a mullet and a clip-on earring (which I put on AFTER I was dropped off for school, out of fear that my father would see it, and annihilate me).

But I can take a whooping like a man. I'll admit it. There were 307 people in this pool who were luckier than me. They guessed the right teams, and I didn't.

So congratulations Hoops 83. You were just 4 points better than Zmagg7 (Yahoo! name Zmagg77, again, in case you're wondering) and Annas FABULOUS MADNESS (Yahoo! name poopsgrl), who I pray to God is not Ana Belaval.

A special thank-you to everyone who participated, and let's do it again next year!

Also yesterday, the Sox won their Home Opener, thanks to Joe Crede, who hit a 2-out grand slam to win it. Joe is now 6-for-9 with 7 RBI in his last 2 games, making him . . .

PHAT JOE!!!!!!!!

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Some entrepreneurs in San Antonio have figured out how to make a few extra bucks off the Final Four. With a dearth of quality hotel rooms in the area, they're doing a little price-gouging and offering their own homes for rent.

I suppose this is not a ground-breaking concept. People rent out their vacation homes all the time.

I'm just not (nor will I ever be), one of them.

It's just a little bit too familiar for me, ESPECIALLY when college students are involved. You rent to 3 or 4 of them, and 43 end up back at your 3-bedroom condo, every inch of the place defiled! I don't want my home to end up as the background for a homemade video on Youtube.

But apparently, some people aren't worried about that

On a Cubs note, Lou Piniella made his first lineup change of the season . . . 3 GAMES IN!!! He switched Alfonso Soriano and Ryan Theriot in the lineup, moving Soriano back to the leadoff spot. And it worked. Soriano knocked in 2 runs and scored another, prompting me to proclaim Lou

"THE LINEUP GENIUS!!!"

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 8:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Do you ever stop to think how absurd it is that the Cubs haven't won a World Series in 100 years? I mean really stop and think about it, apart from the novelty of it, or what a badge of honor it is to cheer them despite this futility?

We've fought in 2 World Wars, survived the Depression, put a man on the moon, triumphed over Communism, and cloned a damn sheep! Yet no World Series title.

People often ask me if I believe in curses. And I usually tell them "Yes."

I use at least a dozen every day.

Then they say, "No, not curse words. CURSES! Like, do you think the Cubs are cursed?"

Truthfully, I'm not sure whether or not I believe in curses, and that bothers me. When formulating an opinion, I usually dissect a matter, review all the facts and all differing opinions, and then come to my own conclusion.

But there's just not enough case history here for me to study. So . . . I've created some.

I recently conducted an experiment, which I believe, will prove whether or not the Cubs are cursed. If they are, then I guarantee the Cubs will win the World Series this year, because the actions I took go right to the core of those who are believed to have cursed the team in the first place.

http://www.fantasycostumes.com
http://www.chicagotrolley.com

Posted by at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Residents of Downers Grove were angry, this morning, when the town's tornado siren malfunctioned, and went off around 1:00 AM. I imagine when one is in a deep sleep, a tornado siren must sound like a scud missile.

While I've never been awakened by a tornado siren, I have been startled by something nearly as loud.

Her name is Cindy Munoz.

She is a floor director for our show. She is about 5'0" tall, about 100 lbs, and she's louder than an elephant.

Posted by Pat Tomasulo at 9:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The Hawks welcomed back another one of their greats last night. Tony Esposito. And they did it right- personalized, with a few surprises, but nothing over the top.

It was especially neat to see Tony "O" put his old goalie mask on again, though I was waiting for Special Agent Clarice Starling to come arrest him.

As nice as the ceremony was, though, it was not perfect. Watch below to see what I mean.