I've always had a soft spot for Meat Loaf. Like just about everyone, my Mom owns "Bat Out of Hell" and it was one of the first albums I listened to as a kid. I was a sucker for some quality cover art. So, in a Summerfest of bucket list check marks for me, I made sure I was able to see Meat Loaf perform "Paradise By the Dashboard Light." While I did not leave disappointed, I must say that I was a little disappointed when I first got there.

The new Briggs & Stratton Big Backyard is gorgeous, there's no doubting that, but they missed a great opportunity to change the way the venue works. The stage still has the aluminum benches that everyone stands on, effectively blocking the view for anyone behind them. I understand waiting for hours to get a good spot for your favorite headliner, I'm sure I'll even do it once or twice this summer, but the benches have got to go. Or at least be downsized.

Once we snaked our way to a reasonable spot, though, Meat Loaf did not disappoint. I had been warned that at age 63, Meat Loaf wasn't able to rock quite as hard as he might like to. He certainly didn't show his age as he opened with one of my personal favorites, "Bless My Soul" from "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." He then surprised everyone, maybe even himself, when he played "Bat Out of Hell" as the third song.

One thing that really surprised me about Meat Loaf's live performance was his on-stage vulgarity. I didn't personally have a problem with it, but there were a lot of "f-bombs," more than some people may have been comfortable with. I was told that that's the norm for a Meat Loaf show, however, and the show didn't suffer for it in the least as far as I'm concerned. If there was one thing that I could have done without, it was the phallic T-shirt cannons. That, to me, seemed below a rock 'n' roll legend such as Meat Loaf. It can't be said enough, however, that the show itself was absolutely outstanding.

As the hits kept coming, the band dropped in a few of the newer tunes …

The Bucks only had a 1.1 percent chance at the number-one pick when they went into the draft lottery, so it's no surprise they're in the ten spot. Even with their atrocious offense, the Bucks were only two games away from making the playoffs for a second consecutive year thanks to Coach Scott Skiles' defensive priorities. Assuming Skiles doesn't burn the team out, like he did in Chicago and Phoenix, the Bucks will be one of the league's best defensive teams again in 2012 (or whenever the next season actually happens).

Picking at number ten may turn out to be a no man's land since this draft has been compared to the 2000 draft, which gave us Kenyon Martin as the first overall pick. Ouch. With Skiles' ability to turn seemingly anyone into a passable NBA defender, however, the Bucks can focus on their biggest need: scoring.

A pure scorer who would create a major buzz throughout both the city and the league is Jimmer Fredette. The Bucks, however, are looking to keep Brandon Jennings at the point and Fredette doesn't seem to want to play behind Jennings. Fredette went so far as to refuse to work out for the Bucks in the weeks preceding the draft. That's too bad considering the almost comical amount of shots that a small-ball back court of Jennings and Fredette would be putting up. The Bucks have also proven they have a very good marketing team and they would have a field day with "Jimmertime" and "Jimmermania." Fredette might be the only player in this draft who will immediately increase attendance in any of the handful of places he's projected to go; if Milwaukee were added to that mix, they would see a similar attendance jump.

Without Fredette, other guard options for the Bucks are Klay Thompson and Alec Burks. I didn't see Burks much at Colorado, but scoring over 20 ppg is certainly eye opening and his athleticism could leave him with solid minutes alongside Jennings when Salmons is resting. Thompson, on the other hand, is almost as dead-eye from three as Fredette …

I wrote, right before the Masters, that the resurgence of Tiger Woods would be the only thing that could pull me into golf. I also said I probably wouldn't be able to write about golf again since I didn't have anything interesting left to say. I've donned my bib and pulled my chair up to the table - time to eat crow.

Rory McIlroy captivated me this weekend. His game made me want to pick up the clubs again and do my best John Daly impression. Gripping and ripping, not vodka and Marlboros. Having survived the debacle that was his Masters performance, I could see the relief and enjoyment of the game overcome him with every successful shot. Watching what should be the first of many major victories for the 22-year-old from Holywood (pronounced like our Hollywood), County Down in Northern Ireland, was simply an enjoyable experience. But maybe I'm biased.

My stepdad, Peter, is also from Holywood. He came to the United States in 1993 and is the best golfer I've ever seen in person. Listening to him describe his home course, the same course that McIlroy grew up on, I'm surprised not everyone from Holywood holds a major championship. Peter also knew McIlroy's dad, Jerry, from their time on the course and remembers a "wee little Rory" carrying around a golf club that was about as tall as he was. Having that (albeit thin) connection makes my rooting interest stronger than I've felt for any individual athlete short of a Packers player.

Another reason I can't get enough of McIlroy is his age. I turn 22 near the end of this month, and McIlroy turned 22 in early May; he is the first athlete my age to be at the top of his sport. You could point to a number of NBA players or NFL rookies that came out of college early, but none of them can be considered one of the best players in their game at the level McIlroy is. McIlroy is in my wheelhouse; my interest in golf will definitely ebb and flow with his success, and I know a number of my peers will be able to relate to that sentiment.