Monday night’s finale to Archer‘s fifth season was a welcome beacon in a sea of so-so television thus far this spring. It gave me pretty much every reason why I watch the show (including some classic speeches) and left us, I think, happily, back to where we were before this season.
Well, with one important difference. But I can relate.
I can relate.
Okay, okay, it’s been only two episodes, but this season’s episodes of Mad Men have left a bit to be desired. Somehow there are too many side plots, too many characters, and not enough Don Draper being awesome. “Stuck in neutral” is the phrase that comes to mind. Hopefully they’re gearing up for something big.
Good Friday? Well, pretty good. Just pretty good. I think Saturdays are better personally.
I can’t exactly say, “I’ve been waiting 18 years…,” because I never thought someone would actually make the movie Fargo into a TV series. But that someone has done, and bless them for it.
I don’t know exactly what to expect with Fargo. Just that it involves Billy Bob Thornton and is based on the Coen brothers movie of the same title. That’s good enough for me, and last night’s series premiere did not disappoint.
And thank you, world, for continuing to make entertaining things for me to watch on TV. Seriously.
Well, it wasn’t exactly a win for the ages, but Bubba Watson’s second green jacket in three years had me dusting off my golf clap for the first time in months.
And once again one of my childhood heroes, Fred Couples, fooled me into thinking he instead might pull off the second green jacket bit (thus becoming the oldest player ever to win a major), but at least his collapse was later than usual this year. Still, god damn that’s fun to root for.
And now, friends… baseball.
Late night Masters highlights on CBS. Damn there’s nothing classier. Just hearing that piano music brings me back to about 1992. This is going to be a good weekend.
The University of Connecticut pulls off the college basketball sweep? (For the second time I might add, and it’s the only school ever to do so.) The only thing sweeter than that is having The Masters begin the same week as the conclusion to March Madness.
The only annoying thing about it is that you have to wait… all… day.
Or maybe that’s part of the charm, that the game doesn’t even really get rolling until about 9:30 at night. On a school night! And a Monday! After 14 or 15 hours of Monday you deserve this one, and tonight will be something good.
The lowest seeds ever to play for an NCAA championship square off tonight in what I’m hoping is one for the ages. (They usually are, but the last time these UConn Huskies won the game was a real dog.)
There are several side plots to tonight’s game: recent champions, one team with a new-ish coach, one team starting five freshman, cats vs. dogs, but one thing is for sure. You’ve got two great teams who are playing great, capping off the best tournament in recent memory.
That should be enough to get you to tune in.
As of last night I have been, officially, for 25 years a fan of this thing we call sports. It was the finals of the 1989 NCAA Basketball Tournament, won by Michigan in the final seconds, that I recall as the first sporting event I actually cared about and watched on TV with great passion. And from that day I was hooked.
I don’t remember much about the first 90% of the game (honestly I think I slept through most of it), but I do remember watching the overtime with my dad, who desperately wanted Seton Hall to win. (He was a Big East man all the way.)
Watching sports on TV and in person was something I did with my dad for almost 20 years, and I’ll continue that tradition some day when my son, too, catches the sporting bug. It really has been one of the great love affairs of my life, and I look forward to the next 25 years and the next and the next.
Monday night was a little like saying goodbye to five old friends. Friends I’d never met, of course, but friends nonetheless. We grew up together, through good relationships and bad, jobs, moves, marriage, kids. You know, grownup stuff. I think my favorite aspect of the show How I Met Your Mother was that I was exactly the right age and going through exactly the right experiences to appreciate it. Lucky me.
Monday night was the show’s final episode, and I must say it lived up to expectations. No real shockers, but enough of a plot twist at the end for one to say, hmm, yes, that is a good ending. Well done, show creators, very clever. And rather than divulge one iota here, I simply say watch it. Actually, watch all 208 episodes. In order. You will not be disappointed.
How I Met Your Mother is on the short list of my all-time favorite shows. And unlike a Seinfeld or The Simpsons, which feature static characters, the gang from HIMYM really did develop as characters, and as people in that world. My world of 2005-2014. One hates to dwell too much on a mere TV show, but I think the series truly stands as a work of art, and of great production from start to finish.
So thank you, Ted, Marshall, Lily, Robin, and Barney. And thank you, Netflix, for letting me watch it all over and over again. Season One starts today!