The wife and I hit a new restaurant today -- check out my review below (and no, I'm not affliated with the place -- it was just that damned good!):

Carnaval Grill - Restaurantica

My wife informed me yesterday by phone it was Shrove Tuesday. For those of you as religiously ignorant as I am (more on that later), this is the day before the start of Lent for Catholics.

Lent is a time of fasting and eating simple foods, so apparently Catholics have historically deemed Shrove Tuesday as the day to empty their larders of all the richer ingredients. My wife referred to it as "Pancake Tuesday," which made my heart skip a beat. She asked if pancakes would be acceptable for dinner, which is like asking John Pinette if he minds swinging by Ponderosa with you on the way home.

So I sat at our kitchen table last night, cramming down a huge stack of flapjacks made the right way (damn near fried and Bisquik as the mix) and feeding little bits to my hovering 11-month-old daughter. We both mmmm'd and clucked at the buttery treat, luxuriating in the taste of the real Canadian maple syrup, and I thought that if pancakes were a regular part of religion, I might have never fallen to the spiritual wayside.

It also reminded me of a time I greatly embarrassed my mother. This was probably 10 years ago, and I was swinging through my hometown. Mom worked in the school district's administration office, so I popped in for a quick hello. As we hugged and I waved to the other ladies in the office, I noticed something odd.

"Gosh, Mom, you have a big spot of dirt or something on your forehead," I said, licking my finger and wiping at it.

Mom looked at me blankly for a second before she realized and started swatting at me.

"It's Ash Wednesday, you dummy!" she shrieked, backpedalling away.

Unfortunately, the damage was done, and Mom's ashes from early Mass ended up a smudge on my heathen hands.

Sorry, Mom.

The internet is in an uproar over the tossing of an 11-year-old boy during a kids' wrestling tournament in Aurora, IL. That's the video of the news story.

Here's the original story from ESPN.com, which details how Ray Hoffman, the father and assistant coach of one of the teams, bolted from the sidelines and knocked a boy off his son.

You can also find more background information on the story in the Chicago Daily Herald's follow-up story.

There's no excuse for what the father did, but having covered serious youth wrestling for some time, I think the father thought his son's shoulder was going to be popped out of socket.

You have to see one of these kids' tournaments to believe it. There can be as many as 10-12 matches going on at any given time in the space of one basketball court, and the referees are not only charged with handling the match, but also must stop it if their wrestlers appear to be coming close to contacting another bout. It also doesn't help that this particular tournament is called the "St. Valentine's Day Massacre." Nice choice, folks.

A quick look at some wrestling rules (and my own personal experience) shows the referee can stop the match for anything he deems as "unnecessary roughness." There is no pin here. The ref's stopping it because the controller wrestler is either making an illegal move (pulling the arm up behind the back beyond an acceptable degree) or there's clearly going to be some kind of injury to the controlled wrestler.

The reaction of the father and repeated viewings of the video make me think this is what happened (warning: this is a guess, nothing more): The controlling wrestler, once behind and scoring his two points for the reversal, clearly grabs the controlled wrestler's right arm and wrenches it up behind the back. The controller's also leaning hard, pushing it farther and farther toward the controlled's neck.

This isn't legal. It's absoutely acceptable to take control of the arm in an effort to roll the wrestler to his back or for other control issues, but the referee is obviously signaling a potentially dangerous hold (that's why his one hand is on the back of his head -- check here for a list of referee signals), one that I think had already gone beyind "potentially" dangerous.

There's another thing to consider here. Most of the kids and clubs see one another several times during a season, and may have wrestled in years past coming up. I have seen kids with a reputation for hurting other kids. If this is the case, I can understand the father's reaction.

This is in no way an indictment of youth or amateur wrestling, or these tourneys (although I think they could think about cutting down the number of matches going on at any given time). Youth wrestling turns out some great boys (and girls), and as a guy who wrestled one season in high school and had his ass handed to him constantly, there's no one on Earth tougher than a dedicated wrestler.

I'm not saying I condone this. Hoffman should never be allowed to coach again, as it puts him too close to the action. Bf you can say you wouldn't make a move to stop your child from being seriously hurt in any situation where you had the chance to do so, I don't know what to say to you.

Just a note that we are now part of the Technorati family.

Technorati Profile

I have no idea what that means, but there you go.

Also, I have a new blog about advertising running on my buddy Rogers's new blog hub. Find us at The Ad Whisperers!

Congratulations to Montreal Canadians thug Aaron Downey for illustrating why the National Hockey League's in better shape than it was before the lockout.

A little-used offensive liability who skates like George Bush orates, Downey took it upon himself to call out rising phenom Sidney Crosby after the latter went down following an unpenalized high-stick in Sunday's Pittsburgh-Montreal tilt. Of course, Downey did it from the safety of his own bench.

Crosby said Downey told him he shouldn't have ended up on the ice.

"He told me not to go down," Crosby said. "I said, 'If you get a stick in the face we'll see how tough you are. See if you don't go down.' It's funny, you get a high stick and you're not supposed to go down anymore."

For his part, Downey didn't do himself any favours in the postgame interviews.

"Agitating is part of my game," Downey grunted. "I told him that if you're going to be a superstar in this league, you shouldn't be acting like that."

It's a part of his game? It's all he's got.

Downey's crowning achievement to this point in his hockey career is twice topping the 400-minute mark in penalties in the American Hockey League. As for the NHL, he's racked up a staggering 13 points in 180 career games, which might explain his coaches' tendency to have him watch from somewhere high above the ice.

Whether Francis Boullion meant to whack Crosby in the face is questionable, and even unlikely, but it's tough not to think some of the Canadians weren't deliberately trying to injure the young star, especially after Thursday. In that game, Montreal's Maxim Laperriere butt-ended Crosby on the opening face off. Canadians head coach Guy Carbonneau, who should be above such skullduggery, sent out his meathead line to open the game and is squarely responsible for that incident.

The Canadians were apparently agitated by Pittsburgh's Colby Armstrong's hit on their captain, Saku Koivu. Never mind that it happened after Boullion speared Crosby, and that it was a completely clean hit. Montreal handled it well enough to give the Penguins a seven-minute power play. Smart boys, those Canadians.

The fans and many players have also pointed to Crosby's admitted tendency to complain to the refs about missed calls and his willingness to hit the rink when touched. However, it's difficult to fault him for dramatizing a tad when these two blatant penalties were greeted with a turned head.

Much of the discussion in the aftermath seems to be centering around why the Penguins haven't picked up a thug of their own to protect their kids. But the changes to the NHL's style of play -- less hooking and holding, more speed -- make reserving a roster spot for some menacing lummox a waste of space.

Those shifts have made no-tool Neanderthals such as Downey a vanishing breed in NHL arenas, and it's no big loss.

You'd also have to think at some point the league will take a look at a few of these incidents and decide, "You know, allowing one of our meal tickets to be manhandled like a blow-up doll at a shore leave party probably isn't a very good idea, is it?"

Besides, the Penguins are riding a 10-game point streak, sit sixth in the Eastern Conference and are leaps and bounds better than they were last season. Who'd fool with that chemistry?

Of course, it would also mean Pittsburgh would have to go out and actually try to sign an idiot in the same vein as Downey.

Who'd want some moron like that hanging around?

My wife and I were finally in the car at the same time when Hinder's "Lips Of An Angel" came on. I turned to her and asked, "Do you think this song is as stupid as I do?"

She does. Michelle hates it for pretty much the same reasons I hate it -- boring guitar work, overengineering and a lead vocal that sounds like someone choking on an elephant dong.

But it goes beyond that for me. I've actually forced myself to hang on when I hear "Lips Of An Angel" to see who's requesting this tripe ... and it's women! Women who apparently don't know a future cheating wife-beater when they hear one.

Here are a couple lines from right at the beginning of the song:

Well, my girl's in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you

His girl? Our protagonist is claiming ownership of one woman while he tells another he wishes she was her. He's also assuming the woman from his past will buy that he loves her with all his being ... despite the fact "his" girl is sitting in the next room. Are women stupid enough to fall for this?

I was just hoping there were a lot of morons out there. You know, the same people who request "Every Breath You Take" as their wedding song. But my wife says there are plenty of women out there who think they're the one to stop a guy from acting like a jackass, that they'll be able to stop the cheating.

Judging by the frequency it pops up on the airwaves and the number of people who have it incorporated into their MySpace pages, it suggests there is actually a large population of women who hear "Lips Of An Angel" and think, "I have a guy just like that in my life and I want him back."

Take a hint, ladies -- that guy will come back, knock you up, slap you around and fuck your friends. Go listen to some Pink and move on.

Jesus Christ, this is funny.

The friendly folks at SportsFilter linked to an interesting mascot mishap this morning -- in which the Austin Toros have suspended their guy, Da Bull.

The big kerfuffle is a mascot ran onto the court with a whopping four-tenths of a second remaining on the clock to celebrate the win, inadvertantly collides with an opposing team's player and his head falls off (the mascot's, not the opposing player's) ... and he gets a two-game suspension and 50 hours of community service? Christ, the guy made a mistake in jumping the gun. Back off a little.

Frankly, the Toros should be thrilled this happened, as I'm a relatively sophisticated sports fan, and yet I had no inkling of the existence of their franchise. And what the hell is a Colorado 14er?

Anyhow, if your developmental team has a mascot that can dunk in a bull costume and yet you're still trying to devlop Loren Fucking Woods, I'd say you need to reevaluate your scouting staff.

Welcome to Week Two of The Hoser's Postseason NFL Picks, where we’re still throwing rolled-up socks at our TiVo’ed Cowboys-Seahawks game.

The Hoser was so close to having a huge week last, going 2-2 both straight up and against the spread. But a dropped PAT cost us one upset and -- well, okay, we weren't that close on the Indy game, but then, we didn't realized K.C. had waived Larry Johnson in favor of Ray J.

Our Giants Lock of the Week came through, but my God, we have finally learned our lesson – we can never again think Eli Manning won’t suck in a pressure situation. He has, he does and he will. Where do we buy our Jared Lorenzen authentic (which incidentally doubles as a great car cover)?

Remember -- these picks are just for fun. Using them to wager money is advisable as handing Tony Romo your baby.

Indianapolis @ BALTIMORE (-4): Herm Edwards will be getting a memo. In the future, it will be necessary for all NFL coaches who plan to pull the gasface in the playoffs to file a pre-suck outline with The Hoser’s office at least three days in advance.

Indy’s win over the Chiefs can be attributed less to Peyton Manning (the softest 30-of-38 in history) and a suddenly staunch Colts’ D than to absolutely gutless playcalling by Kansas City. The Hoser’s wife knew what was coming two plays in advance – and she was in the kitchen making Ro-Tel and Velveeta dip.

So to think Indianapolis will improve against a terrific Ravens defense and be able to sustain its newfound backbone against Jamal Lewis is stretching it thinner than Mary-Kate Olsen's butt. Baltimore 23, Indianapolis 17.

Philadelphia @ NEW ORLEANS (-5): If this was the NCAA, this game would be the Splenda Bowl -- all of this artificial sweetness is making The Hoser sick.

On one hand, you have the Saints, who spent an entire season on the road last year and who have the sympathy of the nation following Hurricane Katrina. Of course, they’re also playing in a venue that was repaired long before other more important structures in New Orleans, and, ummm … they’re all rich guys.

The Eagles can counter with Jeff Garcia, who somehow garners pity despite his engagement to a Playboy Playmate/WWE Diva. The guy’s 6-1 and 200 pounds, and yet people seem to think Philly has Gary Coleman under center.

It comes down to weapons, and the Saints simple have more of them. Bush, McAllister, Colston, Henderson, Brees and maybe Horn is a lot of hoss to rope, especially for a Philadelphia defense that didn’t exactly shut down the Giants last week.

Bet the Saints – it never hurts to back the guys with possible direct ties to the Great Commissioner in the Sky. New Orleans 29, Philadelphia 22.

Seattle @ CHICAGO (-8.5): Oh, the intrigue – will Rex Grossman snap out of it? Will Brian Griese get his chance to shine? Bears head coach Lovie Smith took a chance on creating a Donald vs. Rosie situation, but expect Griese to be in by the second half of this one.

The weather in the Windy City is expected to be right around freezing with snow thrown in. In other words, God has the under. It means the Seahawks will do what they’ve done on the road all season – stink, and this time they may even stink on ice.

Still, with the unsettled QB situation and possible treacherous footing, we’ll say Seattle keeps it close enough to cover. Chicago 19, Seattle 14.

New England @ SAN DIEGO (-4.5): First off, Bill Belichick is a punk. Your former protégé schools you during the regular season and you give him the dead fish, but you beat him in the playoffs and you’re all about the hugging and touching? Go buy some sleeves, you jerk.

Second, Belichick and the Patriots are going to get punked. They didn’t play all that well defensively against the Jets, and stepping up to San Diego’s O is like swapping a Walkman for an iPod.

The only possible roadblock is Coach Schottenheimer, who has a habit of clinching up tighter than Cameron Frye come playoff time. Still, he's never had LaDainian Tomlinson to carrying out the grinding.

Plan on LT going nuts and Philip Rivers to do enough for the Chargers to cover. San Diego 27, New England 20.

Lock of the Week: San Diego

Week One Postseason:

2-2 ATS

2-2 SU

1-0 LOTW

+$480

Final Season Stats:

129-123-3 ATS

156-99 SU

7-10 Lock

2-15 Trifecta

-$2,750

I didn't even watch this whole thing, but the guy doing Bret Hart is fucking incredible.

MASTER DEBATERS: WWE

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Definition of a dirtbag

A guy just walked into my store. He says, "My sons just received autographed prints signed to them by Wayne Gretzky. You know, with 'Best wishes' and that sort of thing."

I'm waiting for the question, and he delivers.

"So, how much are they worth?"

I HATE when people ask this question. Dude, your kids were lucky enough to get something signed to them by one of the greatest hockey players of all-time, and you're already asking what you can sell them for?

So I gave him what I tell everyone in that situation.

"If you can find someone with your son's name, it might be valuable to them. Otherwise, it's worth much less than a standard Gretzky auto."

And I got the "Oh, I'm not going to sell them!" line in return, as usual. Right, pal. You just want to know the value so you can put them on your insurance roster.

Welcome to Week Eighteen of The Hoser's NFL Picks, where heading into the postseason, we’re flying higher than a hitcher in the back of Nate Newton’s van.

The Hoser hammered it last week, going 10-6 straight up and a smoking 12-4 against the spread. We also nailed our Lock (thank you, Arizona), but missed the Trifecta (Nice effort, Cincy – it was only a chance at the postseason!). As I said earlier, the best thing about this week is it allowed The Hoser to finish over .500 for the season. If we hadn't closed fast in the past four weeks, we would have been replaced by a chimpanzee making his picks by throwing feces at a chart on the wall.

Which, to be honest, is pretty much how the staff at The Hoser does it anyway.

Remember -- these picks are just for fun. Using them to wager money is advisable as buying a used car from Nick Saban.

Kansas City @ INDIANAPOLIS (-6.5): It doesn’t matter whether the Chiefs backed in, slid in or Electric Boogaloo’d in – what matters is Indy’s absolutely atrocious rushing defense. Seriously, the Colts give it up on the ground like Paris Hilton on a camping trip.

Expect Larry Johnson to go berserk (think 160 yards and 2 TDs), but it still won’t be enough. The Colts haven’t played well down the stretch, but they are 8-0 at home this season, and they also get to face Kansas City’s secondary, which gives it up in the air like Paris Hilton … well, you get the idea. Indianapolis 33, Kansas City 27.

Dallas @ SEATTLE (-3): We freely admit it – we’re rooting for the Seahawks. After an injury-riddled season, Seattle has both Matt Hasslebeck and Shawn Alexander back, but also has huge issues in the secondary (Kelly Herndon and Marcus Trufant are sidelined and Jimmy Williams is a question mark).

It comes down to whether or not Tony Romo can tear himself away from his rotating carousel of lousy blonde singers long enough to find Terrell Owens and Terry Glenn, both of whom should be open most of the day. We’re betting he can and will. Dallas 26, Seattle 20.

New York Jets @ NEW ENGLAND (-9): We’d tab this as an easy cover, but Rodney Harrison appears to be sidelined for the week. Now Chad Pennington, whose idea of a deep ball is a middle screen, can safely work underneath.

It certainly won’t be enough for New York to dump a well-rested Patriots squad, but it should be closer than nine points. By the way, does anyone else think of “Deuce Bigalow” when an announcer says Eric Mangini’s name? New England 26, New York Jets 19.

New York Giants @ PHILADELPHIA (-6.5): The Eagles clearly should win it – they’re at home, they’ve got all the mo’, and Jeff Garcia is looking like a man who deserves to have Playboy Playmates bitchslapping one another for his attentions.

Then why do we get the cold shivers trying to prognosticate this one? Because Tiki Barber ain’t goin’ out like that. The man had simply the finest game of his career to push, pull and drag the Giants into the postseason, and he won’t stop now. Plus, Eli can’t just totally suck all the time, can he? New York Giants 24, Philadelphia 22.

Lock of the Week: New York Giants

Week Seventeen:

12-4 ATS

10-6 SU

1-0 LOTW

0-1 Trifecta

+$1,080

Final Season Stats:

129-123-3 ATS

156-99 SU

7-10 Lock

2-15 Trifecta

-$2,750