Hello, friends. Hello, friend, Marchman. How are you Marchman? It's Masters Week

Marchman. Can you feel the excitement in the air? Hey, fuck you, Nance.

I like watching the Masters.

I am unashamed to say that I enjoy watching the Masters because it's very... God, unathletic people like...

Excuse me.

Hitting a small ball and scuttling over grass fields.

Who would have any time for that?

Unathletic. You watch baseball.

Every pitcher is John Daly in your fucking sport.

Don't give me that shit.

It is always a lovely week for me because every year I like to remind everyone that

gym dance is completely insane insane and this is really the

week to do at Marchman. This is the best week. This is really his week on the sports calendar.

And you know why? Because he's been driven mad by the lush green of the grass, the gentle

whispering of the wind and the trees and the tradition and heritage

we all share. Indeed, indeed. There's nothing he loves more than going to Augusta and admiring

the painted greens and watching his officials shoot birds out of the fucking skies so they don't

pollute the shot. But so every year he does the final four, he does, he does the national championship game

on Monday night.

And then Augusta starts on, the master starts on Thursday.

And he cannot wait to get to Augusta so much so that he took a private plane this year

from Phoenix just to get to Augusta just so he could.

...