This Week in Milford

February 8, 2022

If You’ll Throw In A Blueberry Pop Tart, I’ll Give You A Triple Double.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 1:20 pm

6:25PM. My partner, Bill Gannon, and I decided to attend the Milford Girls Basketball game. We could stay undercover, get a change of scenery, and maybe get a lead. The case had run cold after we discovered Blubber Butt was in the hospital for potential herpes symptoms. Being indiscriminate with betting and your sexual behavior was bound to catch up with a person sooner or later. And we made it just as the girls were coming to the jump circle in the reserve game. No way we thought Pranit would be stupid enough to sell a betting line to the Jefferson center. Everything seemed above the belt.

Nothing significant that would warrant the attention of a policeman occurred throughout the reserve game outside of Gannon getting called for a double technical when he thought the refs missed the block/charge call. I understood why Bill was upset with the call as the Jefferson player did not appear to have both feet set and was not in the vertical plane and had not established position and thereby had gained an advantage in relation to any contact therewith, incidental or intentional, thereby violating the spirit of the rules that defense is to be played with the feet and not the hands and that within a given area, certain amounts of contact is foredestined to occur given that the Mudlark ballhandler had the potentiality of gaining a clear advantage on her person and attempting an NBA clearout like Shaq used to implement on Rodman or Malone especially after position had been established on both sides. But Milford won and Gannon hid in the faculty rest room until the varsity game so the point was moot.

We were content to ride off into the sunset with a Mudlark victory with Mimi getting all the credit even if she did less than the hot dog vendor on break in the 3rd quarter when Gannon noticed something peculiar towards the end of the game. Two girls were exchanging items we could not confirm to be lawful. Gannon and I couldn’t tell if it was quaaludes or Anacin or Duncan Hines Pineapple Cake Mix. With Coach Mimi in her ostrich-in-Gil’s-butt position, this exchange was done freely and without adult supervision. How coaches could let Arm & Hammer Baking Soda get transacted without accountability was an enigma and making the life of a cop harder. Putting a guy behind bars fot illicit Red Lobster Cheddar Bay Biscuit Mix tradings was no picnic for this man with a badge. For all we knew, they could have been exchanging more than their phone numbers. It was time to go to work.

We waited outside, by the Mudlark Marching Band equipment trailer. It didn’t take long for trouble to walk out the door. After Marty Moon went to his car, these ladies came out in the open.

“Police officers!!!!!!!!!! Hold it right there!!!!!!!!!”

Cressa and Hollis turn around, frightened

“Awwwwwwww right, ladies, you’ve got some explaining to do. What were you giving each other during the game?”

“I told Cressa that if she scored a triple double, I’d give her the rest of my S’mores Pop Tarts.”

“Yeah, Goodfellas always say those things when they pass the hard stuff in a Baggies in the parking lot. You better have a better alibi than that.”

“She’s telling the truth, officers. Here, smell my breath.”

“Goodness gracious, that’s stronger than the lard my mother used to fry on the heat stove when she was making her apple pies. Joe, I think she’s telling the truth.”

“Alright, fair enough. I should run you in on a Section XIX Article 45 “Intentional and Unlawful Dubious Transactioning on School Property with Intent on Malicious Undermining and Malfunctioning and Defacement of the Educational Process” but school isn’t in session. But keep your Pop Tarts out where everybody can see them. Rhubarb included.”

“I’ll have them next to my gym bag every game.”

“Attagirl. Joe, let’s get out of here. I can hear Gil yelling at the refs while they’re loading their bags in the trunk.”

Wasn’t it just yesterday that Pranit was dealing with Goodfellas on whether the Mighty Ducks would win? Time flies when this is no fun. Now we’re in the gym where every practice is a party. I am having a hard time trying to figure out what drill they’re running that allows them to extend the conversation to God-knows-where.

Pete Carril, longtime successful Princeton Basketball coach (SLAM Magazine, a venerable institution on basketball, once noted “Princeton is more than a nerdy bunch of guys that run smart plays-these guys can play”. Couldn’t agree more.) absolutely ABHORRED wind sprints. Once, at his basketball camp, he had all the kids line up and then he asked “How many of you have done sprints?” Several reluctantly raised their hands, bracing for the worst. “Well, you won’t do that here!!!!! Why practice what you won’t use in the game? You WILL be practicing A LOT of cutting and screening.” The kids welcomed the trade-off. Now don’t kid yourself. His conditioning was like Coach Knight’s, grueling and merciless. But his conditioning and practices always had a point.

So I don’t think Cressa and Hollis are getting Carril’d in this practice if they’re able to talk about the weather, the Cubs, John Mengelt’s tackling methods when intentionally fouling the Celtics in the late stages of the game, The Bucket menu, or who will run for President in ’24, they must be in a light jog before Captain Hollis starts practice. C’mon, did you REALLY think Mimi was going to turn over a new leaf and take charge? What ball game are you watching, Gang?

Rob is going to kill me, Rob is going to kill me…

“How many of you have done wind sprints in the past????”

Everybody shoots up their hands

“Well, you won’t be doing that here!!!!!! We will only be working on things we will use in the game!!!!!!!!! Let’s get out to #1 and work on putting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Thank God, Kaz. I heard these golfing clinics can be tough but gimme a break.”

And what does Cressa mean by frisky???? Conventional wisdom would suggest, given the context of the conversation, she indeed got another knee-draining. But not so fast. We’re adults here, let’s consider other possiblities as long as we’re left hanging on Cressa’s vague generalities.

She could have had an emergency knee implant. Simple, find a recently-deceased individual who had a reputation for strong knees and, presto, before you know it, Cressa has a knee that’s still going strong after 96 years of use. Heck, she might even win MVP of the Valley with that used appendage.

She might have become comfortably numb with LSD. Broaden her horizons. See the whole floor in front of you. Rack up the assists. Aaaaaaa, maybe not. Not with Friday and Gannon in the building. LSD propped next to the Cinnanon Pop Tarts on the bench? John Mengelt not violating the vertical plane will happen sooner. Or Coach Knight attending a Big Ten Referee Fellowship at Denny’s.

I think I’ll stick with the knee being drained. She ‘s shooting better anyway.

Having lived in Indiana most of my life and hearing and reading unconfirmed reports about bobcats in the state, after years in the 1800’s and early 1900’s of being a semi-inhabitant, I was intrigued by a recent article about whether the bobcat is still a fixture in a lot of states. One way to tell was bobcat poop. Not sure what to look for

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Thought To Have Witnessed Tracks Of Elusive Feline!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I saw poop in my tomato garden that was smaller than a moose but bigger than a titmouse. And I know my wife howls when we have sex but…”

9:15AM, the next day. Gannon and I stopped by Coach Mimi’s office. She was in a conference call with the other Valley coaches over crowd control. They wanted no more incidents such as the New Thayer-Madison game where the militia was called in. Referee clinics was the time to complain.

“I’ll talk with you later. Yes, gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

“Police officers. I’m Sergeant Friday and this is my partner, Bill Gannon. We noticed some strange exchanges between a couple of your players, Cressa and Hollis. Have you ever noticed anything suspicious?”

“Not really but I don’t pry into other people’s affairs. I’m usually in the office when my assistant Hollis runs practice. What I don’t know won’t show up on my tax returns.”

“Ma’am, pardon the intrusion but you can’t be serious. You mean you don’t know about your player’s actions, or students’ actions in general, including Pranit’s gambling binges? The girls have been sharing Pop Tarts and thank Heavens it didn’t graduate to Budweiser Lite.”

“I’m unclear what Pranit’s association with the Milford Mob has to do with Raspberry Pop Tarts.”

“Now you listen here, Coach Mimi!!!!!!!!!!! You and your husband may have gotten away with running the most apathetic coaching ring this side of the Delaware for years but we’ve got our finger on you and we’ll say what’s relevant and what needs to get pitched in Gil’s toilet. Start taking charge and looking into those lockers bigger than your indifference or I’ll book you on a Milford Penal Code Section XXII Article 956(d) ‘Excessive Negligence of Duty In The Line Of Duty With Intent To Distribute Unfavorable Qualifications While on Duty’ faster than you can say ‘They exhumed Principal Ek’s casket overnight’.”

“Can I still schedule my weekend retreat with my husband. He just got out of surgery at Milford Men’s Clinic. He felt like a rubber snake before.”

“Okay, but any more incidents and you’ll be sleeping in a cell with a bunch of snakes.”

Loud strident trombones sail in, indicating fade from the scene.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Insists He Has Documented Credible Evidence Of Bobcat Presence At Milford Condo Suites!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m tellin’ you, that couldn’t be bird droppings on my window. Not that lumpy.”

The fist bump is confirmation that this farce will continue until at least the end of February or someone runs out of Pop Tarts. Is Cressa going to get a Betty Crocker Chocolate Bundt Cake if she scores the winning shot in the Playdowns? Drain that knee some more, Cressa, Captain Hollis might endow you with a cheesecake next time. And all you gotta do before you sink your fork into aforementioned comestible is fist-bump. Fair exchange.

At Milford Comedy Caravan

“…and Joe Friday asked me if I knew anything about Pranit’s compulsive gambling habits? And I answered ‘Do you think I look like I’d clean the lint and bobcat poop off your Le Tigre jacket?'”

Dead silence

Suddenly the loudspeaker blares out

DUMMMMMM DA DUM DUM

Short pause

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The offense is clicking thanks to all the pastries Cressa obtained at Milford Flea Market. And whatty ya know, the crowd doesn’t look aliens from the Disney classic “The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh”. The sign is actually in English. Nobody scribbled something while they were imbibing heftily outside the Milford Beverage Warehouse. We’re making progress here. Really, I’m not prepared for Heather Tarbell to come into Gil’s office to interview wearing a scarecrow mask. It ruins the atmosphere.

In the hallway at Milford High School

“So if you call in and say that IU will beat Southeastern Manitoba State by 10 at Assembly Hall that I will cover the spread-“

POLICE OFFICERS!!!!!!!!!! HANDS HIGH IN THE AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pranit and Blubber Butt drop their textbooks

“The gig is up!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew we’d catch you in the act. The betting line has gotten cut off!!!!!!!! There’ll be no more wagering for Ohio Northern University!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gannon, read ’em their rights.”

Gil walks around the corner

“Officers, what’s the charge? They can go online for a free betting service as long as there’s adult supervision.”

“Well, there wasn’t any adult supervision from you. And I have half a mind to run you in on a Milford Penal Code Article VI ‘Contamination of School Property with Foreign Substances and Materials’. Did you buy that cologne at Milford Dollar General on the discount table?”

“I’m afraid Sergeant Friday has a point. My grandfather sprayed something like that when he had to bury one of his horses. You could take a whiff of that stuff all over the county. Farms had to shut down for the day. Cows would give milk that tasted like liver cheese.”

“Look, I know I need to spend less time at Milford Golf Course but leave the kids alone. I’ll make restitution. We’ll do hot potato drills this afternoon.”

“Oh, this one’s a hot one all right.”

Obnoxious flute and tuba crash into the audio

DUMMMMMMMMMM

DA DUM DUM

Pause

DUMMMMMMMMMM

DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

“The story you have just seen is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.”

“On March 6th trial was set in the Milford Superior Court for a one Pranit Smith and Gil Thorp. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

At the Thorp household in the front yard one lovely Sunday afternoon

RISING UP, BACK ON THE STREETS

DID MY TIME, TOOK MY CHANCES

WENT THE DISTANCE, NOW I’M BACK ON MY FEET

JUST A MAN AND HIS WILL TO SURVIVE

“Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor is blaring ten decibels above normal range out of the transplanted speaker in the garage. Gil is in the front yard in nothing but his boxer shorts with Valentines on them. He is on his 987th sit-up.

Mimi and the kids barge out the front door wondering what is transpiring. They were absorbed 5 minutes before in a game of Sorry!

“Mommy, all the neighbors are looking at Daddy. Even Mr. Kravits has a shotgun.”

“And I’d use it too if it were in my hands. Gil, get back inside!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You’re embarrassing me and the kids in front of the whole neighborhood!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No way, Honey!!!!!!!!! I am tired of boxing Apollo Creed with a limp piece of licorice. I will not go to bed another night and suffer a TKO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO GET THE EYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

IT’S THE EYE OF THE TIGER

IT’S THE THRILL OF THE FIGHT

RISING UP TO THE CHALLENGE OF OUR RIVAL

AND THE LAST KNOWN SURVIVOR-

“Mommy, I can see poop stains on the back of Daddy’s underwear. Does he wipe when he goes poopie?”

“Keri, he won’t survive when I wipe him out, rest assured. Gil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You march your butt in here now before I stick a size 12 up your hind end!!!!!!!!!! The police will be here anytime!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Gil is on his 354th push-up

“Let ’em call Adam-12 for all I care!!!!!!!!!! I am going to get the eye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No more walking into the jungle to confront a Bengal with a boner the size of an eraser!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m tired of Gummi Bears getting harder than me!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil, if you’d use that EREC-5609 Double Gel Lotion that I had FedEx’d a couple of days ago, there’d be no need for this. Now please get in before we get a summons for disturbing the peace.”

Gil is doing 876 French curls with the riding mower

“Mimi, my time to confront Ivan Drago may never come again. And I don’t want to fight the Cold War with an ICBM that’s a dud when we go under the sheets. Sex with no atomic blast ain’t my style!!!!!!!!!!”

FACE TO FACE, OUT IN THE HEAT

HANGING TOUGH, STAYING HUNGRY

THEY STACK THE ODDS ‘TIL WE TAKE TO THE STREET

FOR THE KILL WILL THE SKILL TO SURVIVE

“Now clear out of my way, Woman, I’m going to run 621 times around the block!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Mommy, I’m going to go put on my Barney Rubble Underoos and go run with Daddy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m going to get The Eye too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“JAIME, DON’T YOU DARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gil, I’m warning you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you don’t come in, you not only won’t get The Eye or my love, you’ll be doing it alone tonight on the grass in the back yard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

…AND HE’S WATCHING US ALL WITH THE EYYYYYYYYYYYEE OF THE TI-

The stereo suddenly stops stone cold

“Mommy, some squirrel is chewing on the wire.”

“My boxers were itching anyway. I rubbed some of that lotion on my private parts and you talk about feeling like a tiger. Mimi never stood a chance. And with treatment programs that work, isn’t it time you regained The Eye? Your chance to slay Tony the Tiger has never been better here at Milford Men’s Clinic. Put the animal back in your sex life and send Erectile Dysfunction back to the jungle. Only at The Clinic.”

No, really, they let scarecrows in to watch the game. They have for 60 years, anyway. But God bless you, Gang.

“Scarecrowwwwwwwwssssss

Scarecrowwwwwwssssssss

The stands of Milford gym were full of theemmmmmmmm…”

“The Milford Superior Court considered the charges of 27 counts of Reckless Tomfoolery for a one Gil Thorp and 1,563 counts of Wanton Pseudo-Gambling Infringement for a one Pranit Smith not even punishable enough under the Milford Penal Code to warrant the court’s attention as the cases were considered a travesty and ill usage of the court’s time. The cases were transferred to the Milford School Board for a hearing. The findings sentenced Mr. Thorp to curtailment of Vacation Days, at least for 7 days but not extending beyond 14 days. Mr. Smith was sentenced to Denial of Access to the School Library Computer for at least 2 weeks but not extending past 1 month. He was also ordered to pay all his library fines by cashier’s check.”

Gil Thorp and Pranit Smith are currently serving their sentences

7 Comments »

  1. Rubin really knows how to beat a stale toaster tart.

    Comment by Jive Turkey — February 8, 2022 @ 1:50 pm

  2. JT…so true….as usual, the plots in both of these lame stories is moving along at a pace that even a snail would consider slow. I guess Rubin is just killing time until he decides to show the regurgitated strip where Gil reads off his list of baseball starters to Heather (now that Miss Douchey has retired). The gambling story and the bossy, know-it-all, -bitch Hollis story will both meekly wrap-up a day or two before that, with a strip of Mimi, Gil and/or Kaz discussing what just occurred in between the old stories and the new stories.

    Comment by franku2016 — February 8, 2022 @ 2:43 pm

  3. I don’t give a shit… Even if she’s 99% healed, no legit doctor would give her a green light to play basketball without a knee brace or something… I’m thinking someone is about to suffer a career-ending injury…

    Comment by hitorque — February 8, 2022 @ 3:57 pm

  4. And god damn it, knees don’t “feel frisky”… But I’m guessing that’s Milfordspeak for “shot up with painkillers?”

    Comment by hitorque — February 8, 2022 @ 3:59 pm

  5. Career ending injury would be appropriate. Then she can sit around snacking on complimentary shitty-ass “ toaster tarts” that have been packed in general Hollis’s backpack since September

    Comment by franku2016 — February 8, 2022 @ 5:33 pm

  6. I’m guessing a careless janitor will have left an open drain in the middle of the court, which Cressa then awkwardly steps in, wrenching her knee and leading to severe pain for life. She then goes on to having the rest of her days marred by chain-smoking and alcoholism, only making money signing autographs at card shows and in cheesy TV commercials, before dying at a rather young age. Wait a second, that’s the Mickey Mantle story. I knew I’d heard it somewhere. Go Cressa!

    Speaking of Mantle, I keep hearing about Canberra, Australia in the news this week, and all I could think was, did Yankees fans 60 years ago ever say “Mantle and Maris couldn’t save us…Canberra?”

    Comment by Moon Mullins — February 9, 2022 @ 1:19 am

  7. […] who has to make room for Cami? How about the one player who, with the exception of one game, hasn’t been playing as well as she had last season? The one who tasted hard seltzer at a […]

    Pingback by Some Hints Are Bigger Than Others | This Week in Milford — February 16, 2022 @ 10:28 am


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