This Week in Milford

October 15, 2020

Move It, Thorpiverse. Time’s A-Wasting.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 12:37 pm

This is absurd. So the Rapp and Corina Confabulation not surprisingly crashed before it even got off the ground and Will promises to go to all of her volleyball matches if she’ll go to the prom with him and Gil is making Rapp Lap run around the track to teach one Gil’s life’s lessons (“I am The Way, The Truth, and The Life, no man gets to Vince Lombardi, let alone Lambeau Field, but through me.”) and Corina is polishing her attutude spit-shine playing in a sport that Mimi has had little or no documentation in coaching and Will and Rapp are at each other’s love interest for Corina and the QB spot, not necessarily in that order, and Gil still has one more game at Milford Lanes to see if he can up his bowling average. Oh, wait, that last one hasn’t cropped up yet. Yet. Give it time.

So now Rapp the Sapp is in a pissy mood after getting the brush-off from Corina Cancer and to make matters worse, is leading the troops in calisthenics after flipping off Gil in the last game. Granted, bad coaching will bring out the worst in a human being but bad coaching is still coaching and Rapp really shouldn’t be giving orders if he hasn’t been taking them himself. That’s right, Rapp, tell Bob Knight you are going to run Play 2 when The General wanted Play 1. See how much PT you’ll get, once Knight goes in one of his tarantellas. As Franku mentioned recently, everybody who wore Cream & Crimson knew who The Boss was.

Yeah, Thorpiverse would shoot back, when Knight played for Fred Taylor at Ohio State, he was not exactly a model attitude. Feisty, foul-prone, not too mention obnoxious on and off the court (Ah, the stories I could tell) , he was a handful for Taylor to deal with. The difference was, at the end of the night, Ohio State got the W. And a National Championship. Taylor didn’t mind using Tums when coaching Knight with a ring on Taylor’s finger. Plus, John Havlicek, Larry Siegfried, and Jerry Lucas were just as coachable and polite and totally the opposite of Knight so it was pretty academic.

And I doubt anyone tripped when Knight went up for the breakaway lay-up. No, luck is good but it will never outlast talent. The cross-court pass was received because Knight outsmarted his opponent to get that pass, not because his opponent stumbled over the jump circle. Play with your athletic instincts, Rapp, not Lady Luck.

Instacart is a great service, despite some of the nettlesome fees you pay. They get there when they say and you get the items you need.

What’s funny is when I order an item, I am given the items listed plus a Related Items section. Fair enough. If I order Armour Hot Dogs, it would stand to reason that there’d be a listing of hot dog buns. Get one, lo and behold, I can get the other, no sweat.

So when I ordered Wonder Bread and the Related Items displayed, instead of Jif Peanut Butter or Hillshire Farms Turkey Slices, a roll of TOILET PAPER, I was attempting to fathom what earthly connection sandwich bread possessed with squeezing the Charmin

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp To File A Petition In Milford City Small Claims Court With Milford Safeway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Coach Thorp: I told the clerk to place the prunes in with the toilet paper. Now they say they don’t remember my special instructions. How they forgot means they don’t eat many refried prunes.”

And Coach Knight had an illustrious career, goes without saying, at Indiana University. What many people don’t know is the path that got him there.

He started his coaching career at Army in part because he ENLISTED in the Army. Went through Basic Training with all the other grunts. But face it, he had a knack for coaching, ergo nobody was going to send someone to Da Nang at the front line if he could help Army’s image through athletics. A 120-60 certainly helped that particular notion, Coach K as a player for Knight enforcing that notion.

Trouble was, whatever he did at Indiana, he did at Army. In other words, he was just as confrontational. It just never hit the national spotlight because we’re talking rural upstate New York in the late ’60’s. Beautiful scenery (God almighty) but Sports Illustrated didn’t run articles in that neck of the woods.

He shocked his players with grueling workouts, even by military standards, and several complained. But his teams began to win. Nobody could argue with the results. And the message from the Army AD was, get them in the NIT or better and I’ll hold the wolves at bay.

However, there was another issue that became the beginning of the end. Apparently the coach before Knight allowed 5-star generals to sit in on practice. That STOPPED when Knight became coach. And he still might have gotten away with the effrontery, after all, you ARE talking 5-star generals who saw Iwo Jima and Omaha Beach, but yelling at General Omar Bradley and General George Patton to GET YOUR ASS OFF THOSE BLEACHERS AND GET THE HELL OUT OF THE GYM curtailed a promising coaching career on the Hudson River. When William Westmoreland, the famous controversial general caught in a no-win situation in the Vietnam War, got tired of covering for him, it was time for Knight to move on.

Bill Orwig, the athletic director at Indiana University in the ’60’s and ’70’s, provided a way for Knight to make the jump. Orwig, no stranger to success as a very talented football player for Michigan, won wherever he went in his post-playing days. By the book, he was arrogant because he was extremly confident and knew how to point the way because he’d been successful with championships himself. Knew where El Dorado was located on the map. He engineered several championships at Indiana, including the 1976 Men’s Basketball Championship. And did it while athletes graduated with degrees that got them real careers.

So it was academic when Orwig hired Knight to instill fire and passion and discipline in a program that started losing all three, especially when Branch McCracken, coach of the 1940 and 1953 National Champions, was noticeably losing his touch. He wisely retired a year before Knight entered the fray but the team was in a semi-shambles.

Well, you know the rest.

And so if and when Rapp can back up his insolence with an illustrious career of his own, he can not only coach the Cadets with his brash and cocky attitude that gets sidetracked by some girl I wouldn’t date even if she was Gene Keady’s daughter, I’ll even overlook his screaming at Nick’s Pizza to get the Hell out of the stadium, we’re having practice. Leave the pepperoni’s on the sideline but get the Hell out.

If yore gym teacher in 3rd grade makes ya do 10,000 knuckle push-ups cuz ya passed the winning TD in gym class even tho that literal pigskin broke the winder of shop class along the way, ya might be a redneck.

Thorpiverse not only has problems drawing trees, it has problems drawing football players. Okay, they’re not stick figures but P2 could pass as an album cover for Devo.

WE ARE MILFORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Naw, won’t work.

Crack that whip

Give the coach the slip

Step on this crap

Disintegrating Rapp

When Corina comes along

You must whip it

Before her cancer gels too long

You must whip it

When the QB’s playing wrong

You must whip it

Now whip it

Into shape

Rapp is out

Thayer’s straight

Keep the ball

Move ahead

Do not deflect it

Game’s not too late

To keep it

Scoring’s good

At the Milford Comedy Club one night

“…and Rapp asked Corina, ‘Hey, you want to go to the Milford Drive-In this Friday to watch ‘Godzilla versus The Oakwood Reserve Football Team’?’ And Corina replied ‘What do I look like, Devo wearing cowboy hats?'”


“Ooooookkkkkk, Lawrence Welk has been generous enough to join us. He and his band have prepared a special number, Deep Purple’s ‘Space Truckin’. Let’s give them a big round of applause, whattya say?”

And going back to the trees, the ones on the left actually look like trees. The days of cauliflowering the landscape may take a hiatus. I can live with sugar maples being 800-foot tall as long as it looks like a tree. So what if we’re exaggerating the issue. Or maybe aggravating it. Whatever, I’ll even swallow that the gigantic super maples from Mars are greener in the back than up front. The ones up front just need the garden hose on them a little more. TLC never hurt anyone.

Now we deal with the ones on the right. Whoa boy. Somebody at the Oracle needs to tell Zeus he left his shaving brush on the hackberries again. How he applies shaving cream without this implement is irrelevant at this point. The issue is any tree, not just a hackberry, is vulnerable to stunted growth if the Shaving Kit of the Gods is laying around indiscriminately. Dammit, Zeus, you’re worse than Thorp at the locker room of Milford Athletic Club. And pick up your towels. The players are tired of practicing in unexpected summer showers.


“Young man, you don’t have to shout. I was just going to tell Coach Thorp he’s being terminated and then I’m headed towards the exit.”

You take away the helmets the Kannamits use when they’re on the gridiron and the fact that Will needs to do a better job of storing his cerebrum under his helmet more securely, they otherwise look like football players.

But then we have the char-broiled fans to deal with in the stands when they’re not going up the Stairway to Heaven to the restroom and afterward get a Coke and a Snickers. And I’m really undecided on that placard since I don’t have my Kannamit Lexicon handy. Flip a coin. Heads, it’s Madison, tails, it’s Milford. Democracy in action.

If it is tails, could MINRI get a move on? How long are they going to stay in the huddle? It’s chilly outside.

“And we’ll be back for the start of the game after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Don’t you love the October nights being with your honey and taking in a football game? I wouldn’t know, I shipped out to the Marines after my sophomore year. But my friends would write to me when I was in Basic.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp and as you can see I am out of the Hell portion of my life, ready to talk freely about Milford Beverage Warehouse and its sponsorship of Fleetwood Mac coming to Milford Outdoor Amphitheater.

Many thought this was an impossible walk into dreamland. But I beg to differ. The Warehouse hired a promoter and promised a full house, not to mention a free flow of booze from them plus an even freer flow of pizza from Nick’s and his cohorts. They had Mick Fleetwood eating out of their hands. Then play on.

Now some of you may not be able to afford the ticket prices. Not to worry. A purchase of Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc at a price that John McVie would pay in cash if his Visa maxed out and a life-size poster of Peter Green and Principal Ek standing together arm-in-arm when Green did a charity concert for Milford High School back in ’98 to pay for new lab equipment is yours. Shame Mr. Green isn’t around now. We need to replace the wrestling mats.

And some lucky winner is going to get a chance at front-row seats if he or she will ante up $19.99 for some good old-fashioned Early Times Bourbon. That’s right, you will be basking in the limelight listening to “Rhiannon” or “Go Your Own Way”, practically shaking hands with Lindsey Buckingham. Shoot, I’ll bet he’ll give you the shirt off his back. I know I would if some opposing fan in a Valley Conference game asked for that article of clothing. The refs have seen me bare-chested before, when we ran into each other out on Myrtle Beach.

But THEN with a purchase of Busch Light in the 12 Oz. 30-Pak at $12.99, somebody is not only enjoying “Don’t Start Thinking About Tomorrow” within earshot of Christine McVie but going backstage to meet with the band. Boy, some lucky dog is going to find out what’s Mick’s favorite ice cream, mouthwash, and six-pack of liquor. And talk about “Rumours”, “Mirage” and Milford Athletics? I’ll bet Mr. Buckingham is wondering if Corina is going to be the MVP in volleyball. I hope this fan doesn’t tell Stevie Nicks my wife can’t coach. I hate it when ugly rumors get started.

And speaking of rumors, Stevie, and Lindsey, they have put aside their differences for the good of the band and have procured special arrangements. You bet your boots. In fact, The Warehouse rendered me and my wife a stipend if we would put up Lindsey for the time he is here. No problem, said Mimi. He can sleep in the spare bedroom. And the kids can use the basement bathroom so he can take showers unobstructed. And Stevie is laying over at Kaz’s. I’ve been reassured that Stevie will not be sleeping in the garage. She’s had enough of the bad rumors between her and Lindsey. No sense in the crickets under the septic tank dishing out painful reminders.

Folks, come on down and get The Good Life and some Rock ‘n’ Roll, even if it’s Peter Green and Dr. Pearl in a staff meeting and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

No way, Gang. I can read Kannamit. The sign does not say “Gil is God”. Talk about ugly rumors.

God bless you, Gang. You ROCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At Milford Nudist Colony one evening

“Mommy, Mr. Moon told me that Miss Peaches is going to take the top bunk and Mrs. Nicks the bottom bunk because Mrs. Nicks is afraid of heights. Does she need my dolly?”

“Uhhhhhh, Keri, here’s $100. I understand there’s still tickets for the Fleetwood Mac matinee on Sunday at the Amphitheater. Get a couple of tickets for you and Jaime.”


  1. Right you are. Who the fuck does Adam-Sandler-with-a-Mullet Rapp really think he is to be barking at guys like he’s fuckin TB12 or something? In addition to someone cold-coking Corina, maybe one of the bigger kids on the team, like an OL, needs to cold-cock Rapp himself with an accompanying comment like “…shut up, dick-wad….you’re not the starter and just because you changed plays on the fly without permission doesn’t mean your a leader…God help you if coach makes us run extra because of one of your fuck-ups …now get out my way before I get pissed…”

    Comment by franku2016 — October 15, 2020 @ 1:15 pm

  2. 1. Can we just skip this bullshit? I want to see if Peppermint Patty has started Civil War 2.0 on the volleyball team yet by cussing out Gilbertina at practice…

    2. The funny part is this story totally stopped being about Patty because neither suitor really gives a rat’s ass about her… This is a flat-out mano-a-mano competition and Patty is the mere trophy — Hell, she isn’t even the ‘trophy’, all she is is an extension of the Starting QB battle. This isn’t about winning her affection, this is about QB1 and QB2 proving to each other who the better man is, and the lengths each of them are willing to go for victory… And while I’m sure it’s 100% unintentional, Rubin has some building blocks in place for some genuine, entertaining drama depending on where he goes from here…

    3. I’m amused at the irony that all this time setting up the backstory for this season’s “STONG SCRAPPY UNDERDOG FEMALE LEAD” has been supplanted by a wonderfully retro teenage testosterone-fueled dick-measuring contest between two wannabe “alphas” (not that I ever subscribed to the theory of the ‘alpha’ anyways)…

    So which awesome teen movie/sitcom cliche are we going to end up with?

    Bench Press contest?

    Fistfight in the gym?

    Drag race? (or even better, a CHICKIE RUN!!)

    A fundraiser for the Milford Athletic Fund to see who can raise the most money?

    An old USMC boot camp obstacle course?

    Who can pull the best prank on Gilberto and/or Kazuo (and where the hell has Kazuo been this season)?


    Pie-eating contest?

    Regional karate tournament?

    Solo guitar duel? (r.i.p. Eddie Van)

    Coolest tuxedo for the homecoming formal? Or maybe Homecoming King?

    Who can do the best cannonball off the high board?

    Maybe they both run for class president? (Patty *does* have that sinister ‘Tracey Flick’ vibe about her)

    Beer Pong?

    PlayStation battle in Madden 21/FIFA 21/NHL 21/NBA 2K21/Super Smash Ultimate/Call of Duty/Star Wars Battlefront/Tekken 7/GTA V/Battlefield/Rainbow Six/Ace Combat 7/how many more should I name?

    Texas Hold ‘Em?

    Paintball gun duel?

    Backyard no-rules wrasslin’, ECW style?

    Who can get the most likes on InstaGram?



    Basketball 1-on-1?

    Baseball 1-on-1? (Yes that’s a thing, played it a million times as a kid — That’s what happens to only children like me)

    Scavenger hunt?

    Switchblades in a dark warehouse?

    Medieval style joust?

    Maybe they form their own teams and have a winner-take all 7-on-7 football game at a neutral site (Why does this idea sound so familiar?)

    Comment by hitorque — October 15, 2020 @ 2:20 pm

  3. Texas Hold ‘Em?!?
    No way!!!
    Liquor in the front, poker in the rear

    Comment by Downpuppy (I, me, mine) (@Downpuppy) — October 15, 2020 @ 5:10 pm

  4. 55 is an odd number for an o-lineman. 60’s and 70’s are their numbers.50’s are linebackers. The numbering system helps the officials call penalties because they know who’s an eligible receiver.

    Comment by robmize2013 — October 15, 2020 @ 7:17 pm

  5. Sometimes you just take the number you’re given regardless of position because coaches don’t give a damn… My one year of football I was #16 as a running back (and no I never played)

    Comment by Hitorque — October 15, 2020 @ 7:39 pm

  6. Wear a mask Rapson!

    Comment by billytheskink — October 16, 2020 @ 10:09 am

  7. Excellent discussion, Gang. You make my job easy.

    I really appreciate the input as it is spicy and toasty and the way America should be. Democracy thrives as long as people give a damn. Your comments reflected that today and has in the past. I’m in Heaven. I stand by the TWIMer contributors.

    God bless you, Gang. You mean the universe to me.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — October 16, 2020 @ 11:26 am

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