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The coach who saved my life

Dr. Kim Playfoot walked into my hospital room like a breath of fresh air. She was tall and blonde, full of jokes but was no nonsense at the same time. She introduced herself and sat at the end of my uncomfortable hospital bed. “You are lucky,” she said. “You have suffered what we call a minor stroke, but in my mind there is no such thing as a minor stroke. A stroke is a stroke. Here is what we’re going to do. We are going to take care of you and I know you are going to do everything you can to get better. I know you will. I believe in you. This is a team effort. Our joy is going to be the day you walk out of here and go home to your family.” She then turned to my wife Abs. “I know you are worried about him. I know you are strong. But I need a favor from you. No looking back. Do not rehash what he did or did not do in the past. We are looking at today and toward the future.” I loved this woman. I wasn’t being lectured by a doctor. I thought I was getting a game plan from Vince Lombardi. So I gave her the nickname “Coach.” I suffered an ischemic stroke which restricted blood flow to the brain. It is similar to a heart attack. In fact back in the day they called strokes brain attacks. She said it was a close call between life and death. She showed me a 3-D image of all the vessels and veins inside my brain. They were all healthy and free flowing, sort of like the Lodge at three in the morning. But there was a weak broken down vein on the left side. The blood flow in this vein became sluggish like I-94 during rush hour. I lost my ability to speak and my fine motor skills which made it difficult to type or wash myself. This vein has probably been like this since childhood. It was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Here is where luck came in. If that vein became clogged instead of sluggish I’d be dead or paralyzed. A few days ago we suffered a horrific loss in sports media world when Jamie Samuelsen died at the tender age of 48 of colon cancer. Jamie sent a message to all. Get a colonoscopy. It is not that bad. I come with a message also. Watch your sodium or salt intake. That is what landed me in the hospital. Read the labels at the super market. If something has 800 milligrams or 1,000 milligrams of sodium you should probably leave it in the store. Order the small fries instead of the jumbo fries. Or ask the restaurant to lightly salt your fries. Sometimes we ask for no seasoning. I have a new side chick. Her name is Ms. Dash – a no salt seasoning that I put on chicken, beef and vegetables. I even found a low sodium Memphis style rub when I smoke ribs or pulled pork. I found it at the Eastern Market and it is just as delicious. I used to believe that most strokes were caused by high stress. That is not true. Sodium is the main culprit. So watch it. Do you know what one of the more dangerous meals are? Soup. Soup is loaded with sodium. Coach also told me I needed to lose weight. She said people who walk around with big bellies are more prone to sickness. I lost 46 pounds. I do not have a wash board stomach but it went from puffy to a little pouch. So let’s lose the stomachs too gang. Coach got up to continue her rounds. There were other patients to see. She’d be back the next day to check up on me and monitor my treatment. Thank you Coach.

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Boombayey Podcast # 2

Terry Foster Podcast
Terry Foster Podcast
Boombayey Podcast # 2







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Welcome to the second episode of Boombayey Podcast  with Terry Foster. Joining Terry for this show is Ryan, E.Lund, and special guests Rhonda Moss, and Rico Beard.

Segment 1: Too hot for radio storytime with Terry.  Why are you not watching ESPN? Do  play by play crews add anything to the game?

Segment 2: Michigan and MSU seasons so far and where they’re headed.

Bonus segment: Mt. Rushmore of professional wrestling

Another podcast coming Thursday!

 

 

 

Featured

Welcome to my new blog and pod cast

Hello again.

My name is Terry Foster and I am the guy that used to write for the news paper in Detroit and did sports talk radio.

My life was on a roll until I suffered a stroke last year and my life has changed. I blame myself for not monitoring my blood pressure better. A doctor has since told me that I may have been dealt a bad set of veins inside my brain and they were ticking time bombs ready to clog up.

I was lucky. The veins became sluggish, but not clogged. So I lived another day.

I am a new man and I want to share my thoughts with old friends in this blog and through podcasting. I will talk about my new life, my old life, Detroit sports, or whatever else crosses my mind. It will be personal at times. And I will rap on real life and real issues.

In other words I want to be a voice, no matter how small it may be now.

I also need your help. I want to pay the people helping me and donate to charities I’ve worked with.  Heart to Hart passes out food, blankets, clothing and personal items to the homeless while the Enchanted Barn saves and houses mistreated animals and has inner city kids come out and  learn to take care of them.

My pal Melissa runs the Enchanted Barn and needs our help.

I got involved with Heart to Hart after seeing people huddle near steam pipes on cold winter days after leaving Lion games at night. My heart sank seeing this.

Selfishly I still want to get my word out and entertain even though I am retired. And why not tryet to help those that help others?

I will continue my blog also. I plan to peck out a few words that I hope entertain you, and move you to action, tears or laughter. If you don’t care what I have to say I won’t be offended. Move on. Nothing to see here.

I will try to help you lose weight.

I will try to help you get healthy.

And I will do the impossible. I will try to get you to understand the Detroit Lions.

And I will eventually pick up a note pad and try to break a story or two. I need to talk to my league people first.

I hope you enjoy. I do believe there is room to praise me or rip me. Go ahead. We are friends.

I will not comment about Donald Trump because pro Trump and anti Trump people are like roaches. They never go away and they keep barking the same nonsense for weeks at a time.

How am I feeling since quitting radio? Good but not great. Doctors say I won’t fully recover until the fall. But I no longer get evening headaches and am not exhausted at the end of the day.

Thanks for dropping by. I hope you return again.

 

 

 

Being in sports media means never having to apologize for being wrong

A few days ago Detroit Free Press sports writer Carlos Monarrez wrote a column apologizing for not predicting that Detroit Tigers outfielder Akil Baddoo would be the break out player of the year for the team.

Carlos never should have written the column. And he owes no one an apology.

Sports writers are asked to do a lot of things. They must write solid game stories, features, do audio stand ups and they are asked to make predictions. Editors demand it. The public likes to read them.

Sometimes you are right. Sometimes you are wrong. You should never apologize for being wrong. That’s the way the cookie crumbles sometimes. Sports writers are not fortune tellers.

When I did talk radio we’d get phone calls from people saying: “You predicted the Tigers to finish last. It looks like they will finish third. Are you going to apologize?”

No. Hell no. For what?

I did not believe in the product. My job is to analyze. I did. I came up with an answer that did not jive with the future. We cannot predict the future, but we are tasked with trying to do so.

For instance I believe the fumbling and stumbling Lions may have finally gotten it right with the leadership of Sheila Ford Hamp, Brad Holmes and Dan Campbell. If I’m wrong I will stand before you and admit I was wrong. You won’t be getting an apology.

I get annoyed after every team wins a championship players scream: “Nobody believed in us. Nobody saw this happening.”

First of all it is rarely true. And secondly who cares what the general public believed? New England Patriot and New York Yankee players have said this. You know every year millions believe these franchises will win no matter what.

Teams never apologize for being bad. Where are the apology letters from the Red Wings, Pistons, Lions and Tigers for one of the worst stretches of play in Detroit history? I missed the apology letter from the Tigers when they blanked out during the 2006 and 2012 World Series.

Have the Lions apologized for 60 years of bad football? Or do they simply tell you the future is bright just before raising your season ticket prices?

Carlos, take back that apology. Besides you might be right about Baddoo. The season is still young. After a torrid start Baddoo is settling back to Earth after going oh for Oakland.

Anxiety turns to joy following Derek Chauvin trial

I was a bundle of nerves leading up to the Derek Chauvin verdict, the former Minneapolis police officer who shocked the world with his careless, mindless and I could give a shit execution of George Floyd.

I texted white friends before the verdict who told me not to worry. This was a slam dunk. I watched a good chunk of the trial and could not figure out a scenario where Chauvin would escape. The evidence was overwhelming.

We had the 9 minute and 39 second video of him choking out Floyd with his knee. We had his fellow officers testify against him. There were experts who testified that Floyd died of asphyxia due to back and neck compression.

This was a layup. But I kept waiting for Dikembi Mutumbo to swat everything into orbit. That didn’t happen and I felt this great sense of joy and relief when Chauvin was found guilty of second degree murder, third degree murder and man slaughter.

I was happy to see him handcuffed and led out of the court room to face decades of prison time. Of course there will be an appeal, but I am hopeful we will get the same result.

I was nervous because I’ve seen this movie before. Rodney King got the shit kicked out of him by Los Angeles County police officers. We saw the video but the police officers were all acquitted and allowed to walk.

We’ve seen black males murdered for selling loose cigarettes, pencils, minor traffic violations and jogging down a street. Pleas of “I can’t breathe” are ignored. Black males are treated like animals too often in police hands.

Prosecutor Jerry Blackwell had his signature moment during his closing rebuttal when he said George Floyd did not die because he had a heart that was too big. He died because Chauvin’s heart was too small.

Check and check mate.

Where do we go from here? I am not certain. But this is what I’d like to see from this point forward.

^ Treat a black suspect the same as a white suspect. Too often when bad police approach a black motorist in the wrong their temperature goes from 0 to 1,000 in a manner of seconds. We saw that with the Army officer in Virginia.

^ Peaceful protest. People who head the Black Lives Matter movement cannot let their foot off the gas. Although the trial was a significant and historic victory, this ball game is not over. They still need to emphasize that black people are human beings. Our lives matter.

I know what some of you are thinking. All Lives Matter. That is true. But we already know that white lives matter. We already know that blue lives matter. What this country has struggled with for centuries is Black lives matter also.

^ Passage of the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act by the senate that would ban choke holds, abolish no knock warrants and make it easier to pursue claims of police misconduct.

^ Upgrade educational opportunities in the black community. Why should you get a better education in Bloomfield and Sterling Heights than in Detroit and Pontiac?

^ Increase job opportunities in the inner city. If you’ve got money in your pocket you are less likely to commit a crime.

Giving people jobs and hope is more impactful than defunding the police

Let me try this one more time.

I do not believe in defunding the police in any way or any how. I will take my chances with the needless police murders of black males as opposed to how lawless our world would be if our objective were to weaken police or to take funding away.

I don’t want to defund the police. I simply wish some of them would stop treating us like animals.

When people talk about defunding the police I always think of my late grandmother Fannie Mae and our 94 year old former neighbor Mrs. Wilson who were both crime victims and were later looked on by the Detroit Police to make sure everything was OK with them.

Without police these women would have lived their lives in terror.

You cannot lack a police presence — especially in the black community — where there are so many people without jobs and without hope in life. If defunding the police meant giving everybody a good paying job that they had easy access to it maybe I would be in favor of it. But nobody can guarantee that. And nobody talks about it.

After the George Floyd protests I was hopeful that the conversation would turn to uplifting black people in a country that has refused to do that. I thought conversation would turn into giving people hope and a pathway to dreams.

Silly me.

Without hope in your life you are more likely to do violent and tragic things. Without hope sometimes jail time is a better alternative than home. Without hope robbing that business you don’t really want to rob has no consequences.

Without hope you sometimes become a person momma told you not to become.

I grew up poor. I grew up in the hood. I grew up in a family that opened Christmas accounts in January so I could have a few presents under the tree the next December. I grew up pissed off because I didn’t like the way black people were treated during the civil rights movement.

I had to keep my mouth shut as white people called me nigger. I became further enraged when an off duty white police officer killed my father and said he was trying to steal a car. My father’s dead body lay outside the driver’s side of his own VW Bug. So we know the car stealing story was a lie. The truth is they got into an argument at a party. They took it outside and I had to hear on the radio the next morning how my father was murdered “for stealing a car.”

So how did I escape this world?

I didn’t do it alone. I always had hope in my life. There was always a destination. It began with the old ladies who raised me. They were loving but tough.

They could not afford it, but they wanted me to see the world outside of Detroit. So they scrounged their pennies together and took me to see the sky scrapers of New York, the turquoise waters of the Bahamas. Even trips to Frankenmuth were special. It was less than two hours away but the Bavarian streets were a sharp contrast to the crumbling houses I grew up around.

The old ladies drove me through the mansions of Grosse Pointe and said I could live in a house like this. Seeing a new world motivated me to become a part of it. I did not want my children to experience ghetto life.

When I was told my goal of being a sports writer was too ambitious and too far fetched they had me sit and talk with former Channel 7 anchor man Bill Bonds and former Detroit Free Press sports editor Ken Clover.

I saw a path to an exciting career. I saw hope. I buried my anger and focused on making my family proud. Even the local drug dealer got in on the action. He demanded that the neighborhood thugs not bother me because he saw potential in me.

It takes a village. I made it because I was surrounded by people who had a vision even when I didn’t. I was lucky because people who loved me said “I can” when people who did not love me filled my head with “you can’t.”

When my father was murdered the old ladies saw a change in me they did not like. They feared that I would succumb to the streets and lose hope and focus. They removed me from public school and enrolled me at Nativity Lutheran for middle school.

That extra $40 a month was rough, but they all pooled their money together to invest in my future.

Telling my story is a way of saying I wish the narrative behind the George Floyd protests had gone in a different direction. Instead of talking about how to give blacks more opportunities, hopes and dreams we began talking about defunding the police, tearing up Targets and knocking down statues.

Allowing people to earn a healthy weekly paycheck that they are proud of is more impactful. Paving a pathway to a great career is more important. But we don’t talk about that.

Why not?

I had the police talk with my son again — just to be sure

The turmoil between some police and black males has gotten so intense lately that I picked up the phone and refreshed “The Talk” with my 19 year old son Brandon.

The Talk is something every dad should have with their sons or daughters. How must you conduct yourself if stopped by the police so everybody returns home safe and sound?

I worry more because he is in East Lansing and during his drives is under the jurisdiction of Lansing and East Lansing police along with the Ingham County Sheriffs.

I reminded him that he cannot win during a stop with police, especially as a black male. Do not make sudden moves. Comply no matter how ridiculous the request or disrespectful the officer. Our main objective is bringing Brandon home safely.

We will pay the fine. We will get you out of jail as quickly as we can. The only thing we cannot do is bring you back to life.

Twenty year old Duane Wright made the fatal mistake of trying to flee and was fatally shot. He should not have been killed, but those are the potential consequences when you step outside the lines.

Things are so bad that they are tasing brothers with revolvers.

A military uniform isn’t a safe haven either. Lt Sgt. Caron Nazario was maced and yelled at as he sat in his car with his hands held outside his car. Officers appeared to be upset because he did not immediately pull over when stopped and decided to drive to a lighted gas station. The way the police were acting it was a move that may have saved his life.

There are some who said he should have complied and left the vehicle when police demanded it. They are right. However, Nazario said he was fearful of leaving his car. A policeman immediately said; “You should be.”

Brandon said he has followed all of the incidents closely and that he remembers all the things I’ve told him over the years.

“Don’t worry dad,” he said.

Sorry. But I do worry.

Brandon was pulled over once in West Bloomfield and he followed my commands to a tee. He said the incident was peaceful and a learning experience. We hope it is always like this.

I ask this question to gain knowledge. But do police pull guns on white people during routine traffic stops? Brandon’s Uncle Derek was stopped for speeding in central Michigan and the officer approached with his gun pointing at him.

A police officer in Novi reached for his gun after pulling me over near 12 Oaks Mall. He recognized my voice from radio and kept the gun in his holster.

“Why are you speeding on my watch T Foss,” he joked.

I’ve had a gun pointed at me and it is very scary. I am sure I sounded like a babbling idiot until the gun was put away.

Police in Waterford, Walled Lake, Grosse Pointe, Oakland County and Detroit have given me their cell phone numbers and told me to call if I get stopped in their city. They said the overwhelming number of police want to do the right thing. But they admitted there are a handful of guys that are either afraid of black people or don’t like them.

I hope Brandon never runs into those people. I am happy Brandon and I went over “The Talk” again. I want him to be safe. I want him to grow up to be an old man like me.

“I appreciate you talking to me dad,” he said. “But don’t worry. I got this.”

Sorry. I am a dad. We are paid to worry.

Getting rocked by The Sunday spirit

Pastor Hickey began his Sunday sermons at Allen Temple AME church like many black pastors across America. They began in a low, calm tone. It was almost like telling a toddler a bedtime story before watching them fall asleep for the night.

A few minutes later tempered turned into thunder. When he wanted his message to be clear. When he wanted his gospel to resonate for the rest of the week Pastor Hickey’s voice rose to unprecedented heights.

A chorus of “Preach brother preach” rang out from the old men in front. The sisters nodded their heads in unison with songs of “Ummmmm. Hmmmmm.”

And then the magic happened. One of the elder ladies would rise, throw her hand in the air and shreik.

“OH LORD JESUS CHRIST!! OH MY SAVIOR! DEAR GOD. SAVE ME! SAVE ME!”

She’d leave her seat and dance down the aisles, all the time screaming with her hand in the air. I was petrified the first time witnessing this. I was around 6 or 7 years old. I turned to my aunt with a worried look and asked her what was happening? Was this lady going to be OK?

“Don’t worry baby,” my aunt said. “She’s just got the spirit in her.”

Eventually the woman calmed down and Pastor Hickey became the center of attention again. Sometimes he’d joke about it.

“We see sister Jenkins got that spirit,” he’d said. “I bet it felt good. Lord have mercy.”

Even today, the spirit confuses me. It seems as if the spirit only hits older black females. I’ve never seen a man get the spirit. I’ve never seen a white person get the spirit. If they do, it is not in this way.

My family has alternated going to Orchard Lake Community Church and Hartford Memorial Baptist Church in Detroit. Orchard Lake is a mostly white congregation and I have yet to see someone get the spirit. I have seen mostly older black women get the spirit at Hartford.

I’ve been assured that everybody gets the spirit. Every demographic. Every race. Every age. Every gender. I have yet to see it. I would love to hear your experiences with witnessing or getting filled with the spirit.

Hit me up.

Stand up and cheer for Yabba Dabba Baddoo

A few years ago the Detroit Tigers pushed a catchy slogan of “Who’s your Tiger?”

In other words who do you pay close attention to? Who do you root for? Who do you admire?

Put me down for left fielder Akil Baddoo, who should be taking the town by storm during this brief baseball season. Yes, the sample size is small but this former Rule 5 draft pick from the Minnesota Twins organization is making history in a Tigers uniform during his 15 minutes of fame.

Baddoo became just the ninth Tiger to hit a home run in his first Major League bat. And he did it on the first pitch to boot. He hit a grand slam the next day against Cleveland, although it was meaningless and simply tightened up a 15-1 drubbing at the time.

But it was cute seeing him do it before his loving parents at Comerica Park who cheered his every at bat.

Yeah, that is cute but what is he like in the clutch? Baddoo answered that question with a walk off single against Twins closer Hansel Gobles earlier this week.

This came from a guy that the Twins planned to stock pile in their farm system. But the rule 5 draft prevents teams from doing that when they can play in the Majors with another team.

He’s played for such power houses as the Cedar Rapids Kernals and the Fort Myers Miracles. You remember World Series runs by those two clubs, don’t you?

He only played 29 games for the Miracles in 2019 before his season ended because of Tommy John surgery on his left elbow. The Twins exposed Baddoo in the Rule 5 draft and the Tigers snapped him up with the third pick.

What the Tigers saw in him, I don’t know. He did hit .290 with the Miracles with four home runs and nine RBIs. But the scouts did their job and now he is a Tiger.

Yes, the sample size is small. Now you must hope Baddoo is not the next Chris Shelton. In 2006 “Red Pop” smashed nine home runs in his first 13 games. Shelton was a Rule 5 pick up who was drafted in the 33rd round by the Pittsburgh Pirates. Many of us thought another Al Kaline was in the making. However, he fizzled and the Tigers traded him to the Texas Rangers after one season in part because Shelton lost a battle with Marcus Thames for the final roster spot during spring training in 2007.

Hopefully this run continues and the spattering of Tigers fans allowed in Comerica Park can begin screaming in Fred Flintstone manner “Yabba Dabba Baddoo!”

We shall see.

Bally’s Sports Detroit should add a local show to the lineup

There is a new player in town on the Detroit sports scene called Bally’s Sports Detroit.

It replaces Fox Sports Detroit which went bye bye in a buy out involving huge corporations hundreds of miles from Detroit.

Now that the new player is flexing its muscle it is time for BSD to venture outside of its cookie cutter shows that involve the Tigers, Pistons and Red Wings. It’s time to make a bigger impact on the market besides the broadcast of the professional sports in Detroit.

Here is my proposal: A news opinion show involving local talent that airs at 5 p.m. week nights and again on weekends during the afternoon.

The one hour show would broadcast hot segments from shows on 97.1 The Ticket, The Woodward Sports Network or from the sports writers from The Detroit News or Free Press. All of the stations have evolved to the digital world and have in studio cameras and sound.

All that is needed is a digital exchange. This gives local stations added exposure and Bally’s additional general interest programming.

Bally’s does not want to add payroll or other expenses. Find a local sponsor to pay for it and bring in extra revenue.

It would make sense to broadcast segments of the Valenti and Rico Show, which is a ratings power in the afternoon on 97.1. However, BSN executives are scared of their own shadows and Valenti’s takes on local teams is too volcanic and they don’t want to deal with complaints from the local teams.

Bally’s also has the Bally’s also has Bally’s Sports Detroit girls. Instead of having them simply going around town looking cute give them an opportunity to do live updates and learn the business.

That’s my two cents for the day. What do you guys think about the idea?

Michigan defeat shows how difficult it is to make a Final Four

Now we see how difficult it is to make the Final Four in college basketball.

Perfection isn’t needed every night. But when the spot light turned on, Michigan was turned away by a gritty UCLA defense and an off night that cost the Wolverines in a 51-49 bummer of a game in Indianapolis.

Did some of you cancel plans to drive down to Indy after seeing how fortunate UCLA was in making this run past Michigan State and Alabama? Did you think about checking out the Final Four after witnessing a very doable path to the Big Dance?

Michigan looked like the better team until it was time to prove it was the better team. The Wolverines were the No.1 seed in the East region and No. 11 UCLA got in the tournament by the skin of its teeth. However, March Madness is often March Maddening.

Maybe some folks can have a better appreciation of Michigan State coach Tom Izzo for leading his team to eight Final Fours.

How could Franz Wagner and Hunter Dickinson be so pedestrian? Why did Eli Brooks rush that open put back near the end of the game? Players will be asking questions that cannot be answered for years to come.

Michigan does not get a shot against Gonzaga, which looks like the class of the field and would smack the Wolverines as it has butchered everybody else.

“It’s very disappoint for our guys,” said coach Juwan Howard. “Coming down to one possession. But that’s how it goes sometimes.”

Despite looking mortal for the first time in the tournament the game boiled down to a missed Wagner three-point shot at the buzzer.

Michigan often rushed when prudence was needed. Dickinson often turned into traffic when the middle was open. Wagner looked like a mess and Smith did not lead well enough as lead guard.

Part of the problem was the play of the Bruins. Once again perfection wasn’t needed and UCLA was anything but perfect. But UCLA had a lot going for it on the blue collar side of the ledger. And there is one more lesson. It is difficult to beat a team with an old cooter as a mascot.

Sister Jean hogged the air waves the last two tournaments for Loyola of Chicago. Now Hep Cronin — the dad of UCLA coach Mick Cronin — is the old-time mascot we soon will grow tired of watching.

Let’s Go!! Give Woodward Sports Network a try.

It’s not radio. It’s not television. The Woodward Sports Network is a combination of both on the Internet.

If you are looking for more Detroit driven sports content give the men and women of the Woodward Sports Network a shot. They are sports fans who love their teams. Unlike me, they use the term “we” when they talk about the Lions, Tigers, Pistons and Red Wings” I don’t, but that’s OK.

The network is led by people named Stick, Home Team, Full Court, Pilar, Mr. Peabody, Maz, Fish, D Mac, Eazy E, The Atomic Dog, Sean Baligian and J Bell. Two — Darren Mc Carty and Joique Bell — are former professional Detroit athletes. They even let me hang around for a couple hours a week.

I appear on the Morning Woodward Show on Thursday from 9-9:45 am. And I will be on the Baligian and Bell Show Monday’s from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m while Joique is away trying to solve the world’s problems.

There has been a transformation with McCarty. When he did radio before he sounded like gruff Darren McCarty. Now he sounds more like Canadian Darren McCarty. It’s hard to explain. You will have to listen to The Hook to find out.

They love to mess with Tom Mazawey. Every time Maz mentions New York he is shot with 100 volts of electricity. They do the same to me when I mention the Bad Boys 30 for 30.

There are three live shows Monday through Friday. Shows are also archived and can be listened to at your leisure. If you are up at 4 in the morning you can listen to any show you desire.

They even have an app now. I go to either You Tube, Facebook or Twitter, search for the show name and watch shows live.

The network will broadcast all of its shows Opening Day from The Brass Rail Pizza Bar on Adams two blocks from Comerica Park beginning at 8 in the morning.

Drop by and meet the network stars. They don’t bite. Except D Mac when he’s really hungry.

Here is the Monday through Friday lineup:

The Morning Woodward Show: 8-10 a.m.

Baligian and Bell: 11-1 p.m.

The Hook: 3-5 p.m.