Recent Memories

Season 3. Episode 4: Baseball Malfunction. (Featuring special guest Tony Massarotti) In the summer 2004, in the middle of an otherwise rational baseball season, Manny Ramirez dove to cut off a Johnny Damon throw from 20 feet away. Eventually, the Red Sox would reverse an 86 year old World Series curse after making a historic comeback to beat the Yankees. And, along the way, a 40 year old man had the greatest offensive season in the history of baseball. What the shit happened? And, moreover, did I somehow cause all of this? In the winter of 2003, following another second place finish by the Boston Red Sox, I acted in an ESPN TV commercial bemoaning the statistical improbability of Boston’s baseball curse. This nationally run ad was yielding consistent and sizable checks for several months, an annuity I presumed would last for at least another eighty six years. But, starting in 2004, things began to get very strange. First was the infamous “wardrobe malfunction” at the Super Bowl, which seemed to portend what was to come. Then, on a boring summer day in Boston, Manny Ramirez sprinted and dove in left field to cut off a ten yard throw from Johnny Damon, allowing an unnecessary and singular inside the park home run. This illogical play, from a supernatural hitter who had not hustled in the field in a decade, was the first major sign of a baseball malfunction. The rest of that season is, quite literally, historic. The Red Sox would make the playoffs and come back from a three to zero deficit to beat the Yankees and then steamroll the Cards in the World Series, ending their near-century of suffering. Simultaneously, though perhaps more quietly, Barry Bonds was having the greatest offensive season in the history of baseball…at the age of forty. And the NL Cy Young award winner, Roger Clemens, was even older. Nothing about the 2004 baseball season made sense. It defied the laws of probability and of time, as we knew them. So, left with clues but no answers, we turn to legendary Red Sox sports journalist, Tony Massarotti, to try to understand the unimaginable. Unsurprisingly, Mazz provides us with plenty of insight into the Sox’s improbable comeback, but confesses to having literally zero insight into the “Manny cutoff.” Join Matty, Kevin and special guest, Tony Massarotti, for a look back at the year in baseball when reason malfunctioned. Special thanks to Tony Massarotti, who has can be heard on “Felger and Mazz” on 98.5 / The Sports Hub in Boston and whose book, “A Tale of Two Cities” documents the 2004 Red Sox / Yankees rivalry. And thanks to Quincy, Matt, Gabe and the Blue Duck Media team for their production support.

Season 3. Episode 3. And here’s the story we wanted to figure out for history: In January of 2004, Howard Dean gave an impassioned speech to his supporters following a disappointing finish in the Iowa caucuses. That speech was punctuated by an unusually shrill call to arms that was quickly dubbed “The Dean Scream.” Within weeks, Howard Dean’s once promising presidential campaign was over. Now, nearly 20 years later, it's time to ask: What was the big deal? And moreover, are we sure it was even a scream? Join hosts Matty & Kevin as they attempt to define the anatomy of a scream based on five criteria: Anger, Distress, Frequency, Duration and Roughness. Using these criteria, they travel through the mouth, into the throat and deep into the interior of Vermont's beloved former governor. From there, however, the duo wonder: When is it acceptable for men to scream? And why? Why are Steven Tyler and John Lennon beloved for their screams? Why is it hysterical when Jim Carrey and Anthony Michael Hall scream on film? What happens when an NFL quarterback celebrates in a shrill tone? Is he still embraced in the huddle? Is the rare audio of Tom Brady screaming in elation authentic or is it Belichick propaganda? As always, Matty & Kevin go deep. Too deep. And, when they get in over their heads, they are joined by Harvard professor, Nicco Mele, an expert in the intersection of politics, media and technology. Nicco, who had a senior technology role in the 2004 Dean campaign, takes us back to the days and weeks before the Iowa caucuses. He deconstructs the milieu and, somewhat reluctantly revisits the sound itself. In that noise, Nicco, Matty and Kevin all agree that Dean's sound exists in some uncanny valley and might be more accurately described as a "yelp" or "shriek." They agree that Dean was perhaps just not a competent screamer and had Brian Johnson from AC/DC or Joe Cocker lent him their voices, he would likely have been the Democratic candidate for President. Special thanks to Nicco Mele, who has a great politics Substack here. And thanks to Quincy, Matt, Gabe and the Blue Duck Media team for their production support.

Season 3. Episode 2: Rico Dynamite. With very special guest Dave Dameshek! And here’s the story we wanted to figure out for history: Twenty years after his high school prime, we got the briefest of glimpses of a broken dreamer who claims he could have single-handedly won state and who could still throw a football over a mountain. If we could get into that time machine with Uncle Rico and head back to 1982, what would we see? Would he have gone pro? Would he have outplayed Bubby Brister? And, perhaps most pressing, would he have kept the toupee on under his helmet? He's been likened to Big Foot. To Roy Hobbs. To Len Bias. To Ryan Leaf. Was Rico Dynamite the greatest "what if" story in the history of sports? Matty & Kevin review the admittedly scant tape to determine if Uncle Rico could have been a generational, multi-arm angle, quick muscle twitch, elusive, possibly ambidextrous quarterback. Or, whether he was a charming sociopath who would have been cancelled before he took a snap in the pros. Or if it was all a conspiracy and that Uncle Rico was not even Napoleon and Kip's uncle at all. To start, Matty, Kevin and Josh agree that "Napoleon Dynamite" is, contrary to popular opinion, a football movie. Then, they go through a detailed draft profile of Uncle Rico -- from arm strength and speed to, of course, concerns about personality defects and the impact in the locker room. Collectively they plot Rico somewhere between Jeff Garcia and Kyler Murray, but acknowledge that the downside is somewhere below Ryan Leaf's toilet bowl. A rookie season with sixty interceptions and weekday house arrest is clearly within the bounds of plausible. Next, very special guest, Dave Dameshek ("The Willie Stargell of Podcasts"), joins to review the co-hosts work. Dave agrees that if Dynamite can get back to 1982 through his time machine that he could easily enter the 1986 draft, get picked in the second round (ahead of Jack Trudeau) and become the first NFL quarterback to wear a toupee under his helmet. Shek reminds us that, in 1998, both Brett Favre and Terrell Davis wore braces in the Super Bowl. Compared to that, the panel agrees that Rico's rug is barely a footnote. Special thanks to Dave Dameshek and to Quincy, Gabe, Matt and the Blue Duck Media team for their work on this episode.

Season 3. Episode 1: Expos Funeral. And here’s the story we wanted to figure out for history: In the Fall of 2004, following a decade of fits and starts, Major League Baseball finally announced that the Expos would be leaving Montreal for Washington D.C. Just weeks later, a band of indie rockers from Montreal, calling themselves Arcade Fire, would arrive in New York and begin to take America by storm. Did Arcade Fire right a wrong? Were they manifested by Andre Dawson and Gary Carter? In the season three premier, Matty & Kevin test out a theory that they surely imagined but are also 100% convinced are real. The co-hosts believe that, in 2004, when the Montreal Expos left for Washington DC, the void that was left was replaced by Arcade Fire. In the post-9/11 era of “Freedom Fries,” Major League Baseball could not tolerate a colorful, European team from Canada. Their logical destination — the nation’s capitol. The crater that the left behind, however, was filled with Indie Rock. First, The Unicorns. Eventually, Wolf Parade. But within weeks of The Expos last game, it was the beloved, and iconoclastic Arcade Fire. On this episode, Matty & Kevin wonder if this rebalancing of the universe was metaphysical or whether it was a North American trade agreement. Then, with the help of DJ Steve Porter, known for his sports / music mash-ups, they get perspective from a musician who was straddling both worlds in 2004. Amazingly, Steve confirms that the trade was very real and widely understood in Montreal. What the city lost in sports, they gained in the most important band on Earth. Together, the trio then confirms that the Expo most likely to be invited into Arcade Fire was Andre Dawson (on drums) and that the band’s eventual debut in New York in the Fall of 2004 was very much an act of revolution. Finally, Matty and Kevin fast forward to 2016, when Win Butler led the Canadian celebrity All-Stars to a convincing victory against American funny-hipster, Jason Sudekis, and the American team. The Expos were gone. The Nationals were winning. But, for Montreal, justice had finally prevailed. Special thanks to Steve Porter and to Quincy, Gabe, Matt and the Blue Duck Media team for their work on this episode.

Season 2. Episode 5: Bellagio. And here’s the question we want to answer for history: We know that Las Vegas was changed forever when Steve Wynn built the Bellagio. We know that bachelor parties would never be the same. We know that, for millions of men and maybe dozens of women, the Bellagio gets “it.” But -- here’s the question -- what exactly is “it”? “Bellagio” -- the name evokes so much. Gaudy. Classy. Luxury. Casino. Hotel. Experience. It is the place where dreams are made and broken and never spoken about again (outside of bachelor party toasts and fantasy football draft rooms). And although The Bellagio has only been around for twenty two years, it is hard to imagine Las Vegas without it. The hotel singularly reimagined the briefly family friendly version of Vegas as a magical man cave. Because of Steve Wynn’s vision, in a single moment, Las Vegas went from gauche and tacky to somehow sexy and cool. The name “Bellagio” comes from a picturesque town in Lake Como, Italy. Linguists say the word is not actually a word in Italian but roughly means “nice staying.” Steve Wynn, the hotel and casino’s founder, says it means “elegant relaxation.” In that subtle promise and lie, we begin to understand everything there is to know about this unknowable place and its founder. To unpack the history, the greatness and the mystery of The Bellagio, co-hosts Matty Wishnow and Kevin Blake explore everything from the blown glass, to the poker room, to the spa, to the Picassos that Steve Wynn put his elbow through, to the concierge desk. Matty, a reluctant Bellagio business conference vet, and Kevin, an avowed loyalist and fledgling sports better, invite on Josh Kaufman, frequent poker player at The Bellagio as well as lesser Pennsylvania Racinos (race track plus casino), and Judd Wishnow, legendary bachelor party ringer. Together the panel asks: Is The Bellagio more disease or antidote? And for what? Is Steve Wynn a poet, a business savant or a spray tanned fraud? Are the men in the Bellagio poker room aware that there is a U.S. state named “Rhode Island”? What happens if you ask the concierge to tell the people at the Bellagio pool to quiet down? Can you really bring your significant others to The Bellagio? Crazier still, can you go there alone? Finally, what is that special “it” about The Bellagio? Join Matty, Kevin and the panel as they break man code for an hour and try to tell the stories and unpack the secrets of The Bellagio.

Season 2. Episode 4. And here’s the question we want to answer for history: In "There's Something About Mary," when Mary Jensen chose that dorky, neurotic, stalker, Ted Stroemann, over the handsome, confident, entrepreneur, Pat Healy, are we sure that she made the right choice? In the summer of 1998, Peter and Bobby Farrelly released a summer comedy that took the world by storm. “There’s Something About Mary” was not only the most successful gag comedy in over a decade, it celebrated the arrival of Ben Stiller and Cameron Diaz as mega-stars. The world smiled, giggle, guffawed and winced as semen and a scrotum were used as props for hysterical effect. In the end, Stiller’s Ted wins the heart of Diaz’s Mary. But along the way, we can’t keep our eyes off of Pat Healy, played by Matt Dillon. Because the final resolution feels so forced and because Dillon is so astoundingly funny and oddly charismatic, it’s almost impossible not to want to revisit the character and Mary's decision. Join co-hosts Matty Wishnow and Kevin Blake as they reflect on the gargantuan success of the film and focus on Dillon’s most enduring, if unlikely, character. With the help of panelists Judd Wishnow and Christian Anthony, we ask: What’s the deal with Matt Dillion, elite bachelor and collector of Cuban vinyl records? Where does semen rank in the arsenal of hairstyle substitutes in an emergency situation? Was Woogie’s suggestion to Ted to “clean the pipes” before his big date good advice? Did Mary choose right in selecting Ted, or would Pat Healy have been a better match? Along the way, we learn a (very) little bit about Matt Dillon, we learn a lot about 1998 and we uncover the unlikely and unnerving truth about Mary’s choice: Pat never had a chance because Mary ultimately wanted a guy with a broken penis to sit around, eat hot dogs and watch SportsCenter with. Special thanks to Quincy, Gabe, Matt & the entire Blue Duck team for editing and sound design.

Season 2. Episode 3: Bad Therapy. And here’s the question we want to answer for history: We know that Frasier is the most decorated sitcom in the history of the Emmys. We know that the show was almost flawlessly written and acted. We know that Frasier and Niles Crane were lovable, learned and pretentious. We know so much about the Crane Brothers. But do we even the slightest idea if they were competent psychotherapists? Frasier and Niles were the flaccid superheroes of 1998. From the Elliot Bay Towers they plotted their takeover of Seattle’s upper crust. They obsessed over methods for dating women two to three leagues above them. They chafed at their father’s no frills common sense. They drank countless lattes and even more sherry. Across nearly 270 episodes, Frasier was mostly perfect and always lovable. That being said, great entertainment can obscure deep and dark mysteries, such as: How was a part time, AM radio therapist able to live like a man with generational wealth? Was Frasier Crane more of a ladies’ man than Jerry Seinfeld and Same Malone? Was he secretly the most testosterone addled, alpha male on TV? Most importantly, over eleven seasons, did either Frasier or Niles even once demonstrate basic competency as a therapist or physician? The more we pull at the thread from Niles’ cardigan, the more the Crane brothers’ story unravels. Join Matty Wishnow, Kevin Blake and panelist, Josh Kaufman, as they determine if Niles and Frasier upheld their Hippocratic oath. A very special thank you to Quincy, Matt, Gabe and the Blue Duck team for editing and sound design.

Season 2 episode 2: On July 20, 1998, Gary Coleman assaulted a fan while shopping for a bulletproof vest for his job as a mall security guard. Was that the saddest day of the saddest post-script in TV history? Moreover, was this the day that Generation X’s childhood officially died? Stick with us on this “very special episode” of Recent Memories as we try to find an ounce of humor in all of this. From 1978 to 1985, Gary Coleman, Todd Bridges, Dana Plato and Conrad Baine were part of TVs most loving and lovable family on “Diff’rent Strokes.” They made us laugh every week and, occasionally in their “very special episodes,” they made us think. But then, when the show ended, things got gruesome. There’s bankruptcy, failed video game arcades, crack and soft-core porn. And, somehow, those are not the darkest hours. Join Matty Wishnow, Kevin Blake and their panelists, Christian Anthony, expert in the jump punch, and Judd Wishnow, expert in the fear of kidnapping, as they search for humanity in this Greek tragedy. The journey inevitably leads us to July 20, 1998 and the fracas that broke out between Coleman and his autograph seeker, wherein we ask: Did Coleman really need a bulletproof vest or was he showing off? What are the mechanics of a “jump punch”? Was Coleman actually the victim of “assault by motorboat”? Was this the formal end of childhood for Generation X? What does this sad affair tell us about the year 1998? Join us as we persevere through the darkness to find just a glimpse of sunlight. Special thanks to Quincy, Gabe, Matt & the entire Blue Duck team for editing and sound design.

Season 2. Episode 1. What was going on in 1998 that prompted men to consume vast amounts of performance enhancing drugs in the bedroom and on the ball field and do any of us have even the slightest clue how those drugs actually work? In the 1980s, we had Reagan, Stallone and Schwarzenegger. In the 90s we had Clinton, Ross and Chandler. In the 80s, men’s suits were sharp in the shoulders and lapels. In the 90s, men wore flannel and loosely draped sweaters. In the 80s, Rock was hard and in the 90s, Matchbox 20 and the Goo Goo Dolls taught us how to Rock really soft. But, in 1998, everything changed. Pfizer launched Viagra, a drug that allowed men with erectile dysfunction to achieve and maintain erections for hours. Simultaneously, major league baseball players began to take performance enhancing drugs in unprecedented volumes. The result was four major leaguers hitting over 50 home runs in the same season while their fathers and grandfathers cheered them on from the stands, with noticeable bulges in their trousers. There is no way that these events -- the launch of Viagra and the dawn of baseball’s steroid era -- are not correlated. Twenty plus years later and now as middle-aged men ourselves, confronting our own declining physical strength, we wanted to understand: 1. What was going on with manhood in 1998? 2. Do any of us have the slightest clue how Viagra and anabolic steroids actually function? Co-hosts Kevin Blake and Matty Wishnow are joined by alpha male panelist, Judd Wishnow, and 4% M.D. panelist, Jason Klein, to help understand the culture and physiology that made 1998 possible. Along the way, we travel from “magenta penis” to Steve Balboni until we finally ask the obvious question: did Matchbox 20 cause the September 11 attacks. A very special "thank you" to Quincy, Matt, Gabe and the Blue Duck team for editing and sound design.

Season 1. Episode 5. Here’s the question we want to answer for history: What happens to our World if McDonald’s never gives us those delicious, golden fried things that have chicken in their name but that actually look and taste nothing like poultry? In the late 1970s, the Carter administration tried to convince Americans that they were eating too much red meat. It worked. Hamburger consumption declined and McDonald’s panicked. Over the course of several years, and with the help of a fancy European chef, they ultimately brought the legendary McNugget to the world in 1983. None of us have ever been the same since. With the help of our panel, which includes a fast food expert who credits his life's success to the McNugget and a Manhattan foodie who sorts his Yelp restaurant searches by Michelin stars, we retell the story of the poultry-ish "food” that has brought joy to billions. In our conversation, we ask: Did they get it right? Should they have gone with the fried pot pie? How could they have done better? Is there anything that we could learn about the McNugget that would stop us from eating them? How many McNuggets does a hand job cost in Albuquerque, New Mexico? What would happen to our world if the McNugget were never invented? To this last question, the answers are quite simple. Bill Clinton never becomes President and dies as a young law professor. Juan Gonzalez leads the 1994 Indians to a World Series Title. And Kurt Cobain becomes a successful sales executive for an Aberdeen based organic probiotic supplement company. I mean, how can you not want to hear how we got there?

Season 1. Episode 4: 1983 Person of the Year: Laurence Turaud. No one had a more dominant 1983 than 31-year-old Lawrence Tureaud. Coming off of his signature performance in Rocky III, Mr. T took the world by storm: a hit television show (“A Team”); a major motion picture directed by a young Joel Schumacher (“D.C. Cab”); and a featured role in the most important party of the year. Mr. T's image could be found everywhere, including on Chia Pets and air fresheners. There is no doubt that he crushed 1983. The question that persists is: was he robbed of Time Magazine’s “Man of the Year” honors? Did Ronnie Reagan really deserve it? Did he have a better year than T? If not, who did? And is it possible that the Nancy Reagan lap dance at the White House Christmas party was acknowledgment of it all? In this episode we open with that famous White House photo of Mr. T and The First Lady. Then we trace T's origin story, from Rocky III to the A-Team. We try to understand how he made it to the top, what his secret sauce was and whether it was the man or the moment that created his astonishing ascent. Or whether it was Sly Stallone. Once at the peak of the mountain, we try to figure out what the last thirty seven years have been like for T and what they could have been like. Then, finally, we recast the ballots for 1983s "Person of the Year" award and consider Mr. T in the context of Reagan, Michael Jackson, Eddie Murray/Cal Ripken Jr., Dr. J, Harrison Ford and others.

Season 1. Episode 3. Total Eclipse of the Heart. Was an over the top power ballad performed by a Welsh bar singer really the greatest Pop song in the greatest year in the history of Pop music? Spoiler alert — the answer is “yes.” We revisit nine iconic hits from 1983 and listen in as Bonnie Tyler eviscerates Michael Jackson, Prince, The Police, Toto and more. We then double click into the singer, the writer and video director of “Total Eclipse.” Kevin guesses each’s celebrity net worth as a palette cleanser before we hurt our brains trying to understand the bat-shit awesome, epic video for the incredible power ballad. 1983 was completely stacked with Pop hits that defined the decade. In the year of "Thriller" there are dozens of songs that are still mainstays of radio and movie soundtracks. There is no other year that even approaches 1983 in terms of enduring Pop hits. And, in that mountain of music, a weird, inscrutable power ballad rose to the top. With the benefit of hindsight, we try to separate the music from the moment through a bracket-style tournament of the top songs of the year. The fact that at least two of our esteemed panelists were personally offended by the late, great Prince, helped us with the elimination process. Once we crown the winner, we then try to understand a video that won the Billboard Music award for the "Best Use of Symbolism" in a video. And by "best," we mean "most." And by "most," we mean, "it makes no sense." Join us as we unpack the song that everyone knows and loves but nobody understands.

Season 1. Episode 2: The Pine Tar Rage. And here’s the question we want to answer for history: Just how traumatic was that game? For George Brett? For the players? For all of us? In 1980 George Brett missed three innings of a World Series Game to get treated for hemorrhoids. Three years later, he would blow a gasket for getting called out for using a bat with an excessive amount of pine tar. Roughly a quarter century later, Brett would confess, in a legendary Youtube clip, that he twice a year, he would defecate in his own pants. It seems impossible that these three things are unrelated. Moreover, what is the relationship with Brett's unsuppressed anger and that of Hulk Hogan's? Of John McEnroe's? Of Mike Tyson's? Or Ron Artest's? Did George Brett inspire those rageful outbursts? Did he cause them? What about the four Royals that were arrested for cocaine possession following the 1983 season? Was that Brett's fault? And what about our own childhood traumas of the 1980s? The divorces. The angry gym teachers? Can we draw a through-line back to Brett? We kick off by revisiting a fairly meaningless baseball afternoon in the summer of 1983 and the at bat of one of the greatest hitters of all time and the very best player in Kansas City Royals' history. From there, everything goes haywire. A game winning home run gets protested and then called an out by virtue of an obscure rules violation. And, from there, George Brett blew a gasket that symbolized America's repressed rage. We trace that event to the WWF, to other professional sports, to politics and to our home towns. Twenty plus years later, Brett is caught on mic retelling a story about how he soiled himself at The Bellagio. We try to find the truth of the through line between all of these events that might seem unrelated, but cannot possibly be.

Season 1. Episode 1: All The Right Moves. And here’s the question we want to answer for history: If Tom Cruise is willing and able to do everything that is possible on film, why the hell can’t he act like an actual, decent athlete? In 1983, Tom Cruise starred in a modest, Rust Belt high school football movie wherein he played an undersized, but hard hitting, corner back. This would mark the first of many times that Cruise would apply his obvious strength and physicality to a role as a "sporting athlete" (rather than just a person who is athletic). It would also be the first time that we could not help but notice how aggressively "off" he seemed in acting out sports. We've known it for decades. It seems everyone knows this defect in the biggest star of the last forty years. And yet, the mystery persists: Why can't Cruise act like a decent athlete and why does he try so hard, so often to do so? Buckle up for a very deep dive into Tom Cruise. Full disclosure, this is episode is supersized. We explore the earliest text in what would become a pile of evidence regarding Tom Cruise, the movie athlete. With conflicting evidence in that film, we go on to review every major scene Cruise has acted in wherein he tries to act like he's playing a sport. It's a consistent move for the actor, who is clearly very physically gifted but also clearly confused about sports. Our panel goes film by film, shot by shot, to uncover evidence on all sides of the argument. Finally, with the evidence in hand, we ask the panel to consider how Cruise would rank as an athlete relative to other leading men of his era by holding a "Leading Man Fantasy Football Draft." Cruise is considered alongside other athletic actors such as Kurt Russell, Denzel Washington, Sylvester Stallone and many more. Nearly two hours later, exhausted by still laughing, the jury reaches its verdict.