This Week in Milford

June 28, 2022

Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie, and Mudlarks Laying An Egg.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 11:14 am

This endless, enigmatic plot-a-rama may be (with foolish optimism) crashing to a halt with the last three games mentioned by Gil but that doesn’t mean those last three won’t get schlepped all over July. With a camera crew that is growing in strength every day? Better get your Rolaids out of the medicine cabinet for this one.

We did get one out of the way and to no ones shock, Milford bit the big one and will presumably have to win the last two to win the conference outright. Now what do you think is going to happen, Milford gets run-ruled in the second game and Gregg gets blind-sided by a screaming liner, has to put an ice pack on the eye and kibbutz the rest of the contest and the camera crew cuts out early because they don’t think the ratings will soar by watching Gregg pout and moan because his eye resembles a chocolate Moon Pie? You have any ideas for filler time until golf? No, time in bed with Gil and Mimi doesn’t count. Let’s make this interesting.

We still have the issue with the uniforms although Milford was wearing black tee’s yesterday so I believe we can distinguish between Milford and Madison when both are displaying their MTV M’s on their apparel. I want my Black MTV, thank you very much.

But Milford still chokes no matter whether Gregg is pitching for the 27th straight time or Gil bothered to check the roster to see if anybody else was available to pitch. We understand, Gil. You don’t want to get caught sleeping on the job and being forced to retrieve your roster that was buried in those pile of papers on your desk. You see, Mr. Cameraman, it was right here all along, under my Red Man Winter Cut chaw. Anyway, Nomar Ramos has been rewritten into the script and is experiencing the same denouement, a choke job to set up the dramatics that have taken, say, 3-4 months to finally arrive at. We’re plunging well into July on this baby. I hope you’ve mowed your grass and planted your tomatoes well ahead of time.

But the one thing sticking in my craw as we exit Game One is THAT’S A CATCHABLE BALL IN P1!!!!!!! Thorpiverse, if you’re going to make it a double, then daggone it, MAKE IT A DOUBLE!!!!! I could make a case that that’s the infielder who’s lollygagging towards a sharp but playable line drive. Is Gregg’s eyesight contagious? No wonder why the camera crews are all here. All the Mudlarks will go blind by the 9th inning and Madison or Goshen or (fill in your favorite Valley Conference team) will win the conference by default. Film at 11. Boy, I bet a lot of eyes will be glued to that piece of copy when they do the sportscast on WDIG-TV.

But let’s not kid ourselves, that Mudlark should have that can of corn on a rope. I guess he’s saving his best for when the Mudlarks choke when a championship is on the line. What’s on the field stays on the field.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp To Change Uniforms In Hopes Of Reversing Recent Trends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Lavender and green should wake everybody up and stave off any future meltdowns when engaged in war. I know we’ll have the attention of several cameras.”

Someone explain to me how a line drive that gets by this hapless lazy Mudlark infielder wound up being a double that plated two runs for Madison. Was Gregg playing centerfield? Someone from WDIG-TV has a camera crew shooting on Gregg lost in space trying to locate a grounder that lost its way in the outfield? Not that I wouldn’t put it past a sleazy outfit like that to sink that low but your average TV station is out here for news on a feel-good angle, i. e., Tommy Walker can catch screaming line drives with his eyes closed because Lord knows he can’t catch them with his eyes open. When Tommy can’t catch a cold, let alone a harmless grounder, the cameras get shut off and the camera crew seeks news elsewhere.

Those Life Alert commercials are interesting. The machinery itself is valuable and has save many a senior citizen’s life. STILL, I have an evil streak in me

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Dr. Pearl Spared A Tragic Ending On Friday Afternoon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Venerable principal managed to press her Life Alert instrument on her neckchain when firmly wedged in a file cabinet; EMT’s had her dislodged in approximately two hours.”

If ya wear yore Mudlark Black shirt ta match the eye black when ya go huntin’ so them bucks’ll be more intimidated when ya blast ’em between the eyes, ya might be a redneck.

The Choking-On-Parade resumes in P2 when an opposing with a surname that will instigate debate for years to come shuts down the tailgate and forces Milford’s hand.

Let’s pick apart the obvious. Is it GRAY-lick or GREE-lick or GRY-lick? The logical choice would be the third one, given this pitcher’s possible background. He and his family jumped over the Berlin Wall long after it had been run over by a bulldozer and took the next illegal canoe or general boatcraft to sail over the Atlantic to reach America. Daddy GRY-lick had to stave off the sharks with a canoe paddle and they landed on Newfoundland because Grandpa GRY-lick lost the compass but they still managed to thumb a ferry that transported coal and a few passengers. Next stop was Ellis Island and the coal went on to Florida to help set fire to dead and useless orange trees in some rural county bisected by the Florida Turnpike. Daddy GRY-lick memorized the U.S. Constitution, learned English at CCNY, and taught Hans how to pitch on the green area of Ellis Island. Hans later Anglicized his name to John and learned to throw heaters after being threatened with sauerkraut and Edward’s Chocolate Pie in the same tureen if he didn’t pick up speed. You have to learn to earn your keep, Hans, er, John. Ja, Vater, I mean, Dad.

BUT BE CAREFUL. It could be Gray-LICK. God, I hope that isn’t Gil’s middle name.

At graduation at Milford Community College Doctoral Program Commencement

“We the governing body of the Board of Directors of the Institution of The Community Collegiate Studium of Milford proudly bestow this Doctorate of Physical Education and its forthcoming and inherent privileges upon Coach Gilberto Gray-LICK Thorp and wish him a plethora of success in his future endeavors in his chosen field and the constituents therein.”

In Dr. Pearl’s office

“Gil, do you spell Gray-LICK with one or two K’s? I need to know because Heather is filling out the For The Record report in the Milford Star.”

“Why? I was able to walk a straight line.”

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Able To Save His Grandmother In The Nick Of Time From Drowning In The Shower!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Thank God she had Life Alert and she was certified as a swimmer. This could’ve gotten ugly fast.”

The artwork continues to be a bone of contention with emphasis on bone-headed.

The uniform is fine even if it’s still Mudlark Red and again, the MTV label is brashly displayed on the ball cap but I’ll cut some slack. The Mudlarks again are wearing black and we aren’t coerced into flipping a coin about which team is Milford and which team is Milford’s punching bag (well, until when it counts, then turnabout is fair play) .

That’s when the sense of intelligence crash-lands on the outfield grass. That Madison pitcher, John Gray-LICK, is posing for his favorite Roman god, Mercury, with his caduceus protruding from his fanny. He is throwing one of the planets at Poseidon at the plate in a Greek gods versus Roman gods contest in a battle for bragging rights and control of the universe. Geez, if I was a Roman citizen, I know I wouldn’t want to be suddenly worshiping Hera after I’d laid burnt offerings of sweet corn in Rome for decades in honor of Juno. Let me tell you, Vulcan works for me, I would crash through a wall for the Roman god of fire anytime; don’t let no Greek come near me with his 8 × 10 pin-up of Hephaestus. Blow that heater by Poseidon, Mercury.

Then there’s Mercury’s, er, Gray-LICK’S left leg. Okay, that is NOT Mercury’s wing that Gray-LICK is flying on but his glove that is simply conforming with the pitching motion of the pitcher. We’re safe for the moment. But no pitcher, unless he was Rick Rhoden (I saw him in action on those polio legs and cringed many times) , ever pitched with his leg going one way and the rest of his body heading in the other direction. We can survive Gil’s absenteeism and the lost compass thereof while the team works against the grain of Gil’s ineptitude and lack of presence at key times but no way can that be applied to human anatomy as this panel is clearly showing. Gumby Mr. Gray-LICK clearly is not. I have never seen Vulcan posing as a statue scratching himself with one hand and firing up another piece of steel to haul at Gil for his poor performance in bed while standing like a stork with legs at a 45 degree angle directly in contrast to Vulcan’s torso. I couldn’t even grill pork chops that way, let alone fire up a lightning rod.

Oooooooookkkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back and ready to kick some sense into this plot. The stage is yours, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Life Alert was connected to Gil’s_______________________.”

“BTW, Al, I know who shot Coach Shaw.”

“NO KIDDING!!!! Who was it, Gregg?”

“It was-“


“Now look what you did. He’s out cold. Go play pepper somewhere else.”

This is stupid. As Hitorque accurately mentioned, ESPN does indeed do human interest stories and they are usually very well documented and many them have an unusual twidt. The piece about Barrow, Alaska High School (appropriately named the Whalers, BTW) forming a football team against great odds is a great example. I was amazed at how they were able to create a football field on limited funds and on tundra, no less. Did you ever try to stick a goal post in it? They did. Then there was the season itself. You only had a few short months before it went back to Arctic cold so scheduling games was a challenge. Yet, they have managed to get to the State Finals three times and even won the State in 2017. Send ESPN on this tale of courage anytime.

But the Gregg Hamm Follies is now becoming a full-blown sideshow and the TV stations are eager to place him with The Fat Man and The Bearded Lady. Maybe people didn’t know what egress meant when P.T. Barnum pointed to a certain corner of the tent but Gregg needs to be headed in that direction.

Especially when he fabricated his version with The Fat Lady, er, Gregg’s eye doctor. He really should have been kicked off the team in light of the ridiculous punishment Mike Knappe received. At least he was telling the truth. I’d like to puncture Gregg’s story with a butter knife. Granted, he’s had to live under a black shadow that followed his dad and unfortunately extended over his son. But that still didn’t excuse the fibbing Gregg engineered. The only reason why I’m cautious throwing stones is I really don’t want another pizza party at a ball game, especially with all the TV cameras buzzing around. Let’s not stir up a media hornet’s nest. Thorpiverse, don’t you dare get on your cell phone and call Jay’s Subs.

And take off that ridiculous mask. It didn’t work for Gregg, why do we think it’ll be different in Round 2? Talk about a pig returning to its slop.

Gang, I read an advertisement where you could order for a miniaturized version of the house that was the subject of The Amityville Horror. Oh boy, where’s my Visa card? I’ll hang it as an ornament on the Christmas tree this Yuletide season.

Okay, somebody is making a decent living and more power to them. That said, The Amityville Horror was based on the true story of the Defeo family where Ron Defeo Jr., one of the children, brutally murdered the rest of the family on November 13, 1974 in that house in a semi-posh neighborhood on Long Island, New York. Later, on December 19, 1975, George and Kathy Lutz and their three children moved into that same house and immediately began experiencing a nightmare. And what a nightmare. Ghosts and ghoulies and demons were appearing on a nightly basis and it became so unbearable, they left the house on January 14, 1976, leaving all their belongings behind. They never set foot in that house again.

Their experiences were converted into a blockbuster book and movie and I can tell you, the book scared the Hell out of me. Satan, unfortunately, is real.

The house itself is still standing but the address has been changed to ward off tourists cheapening what had happened and out of respect to the rest of the neighborhood. Good.


“Three cameras? You mean WDIG-TV isn’t around? I noticed the lack of snakes on the premises. I knew the station manager was trying to stay under budget but, oh, never mind, I’m just a sleazy pawn in their operation anyway. We’ll be back for first pitch after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Man, that Marty Moon is a character, isn’t he? Just when you have shaken the good hand of fellowship, a butcher knife winds up in your back. And I always check to see if my billfold is still in my back jeans pocket. Make sure my American Express card is still there.

Now if you’re talking the best sausage in the land, there’s no reason to talk about dirtbags who slither from underneath the broadcast studio. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage. Goodness gracious, we are the #3 sausage seller in the land and rapidly catching up with Tennessee Pride and George Jones’ Finest. If consumers knew some of the inside shenanigans at Tennessee Pride, the grocers union would relegate Tennessee Pride to the discount table.

But I’ll play fair even if the Milford Star may one day catch the CEO at Milford Lounge with a woman who’s not his wife. Besides, I have something better.

From now until the end of July, buy two (2) packages of Gil Thorp Primo Italian Butter Fried Sausage and send in the receipt plus the proof-of-purchase seals to Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage, Incorporated, P.O. Box 548462 extension 368u7, Milford, USA, and we will proudly send you through the UPS truck a replica of The Amityville Horror house. I don’t know about you but that’s something I’ve always wanted to put on the coffee table next to the pile of Reader’s Digest’s and Guideposts. Talk about a conversation starter when the guests come over for dinner. No need to turn on the TV and watch Ironside when chitchat hits a standstill. This replica will help pass the night away in a breeze.

Some of you are bacon people. Our research team took that into consideration and concocted a wonderful surprise. Purchase 3 packages of Gil Thorp Thick Sliced Coagulant Sensitive Bacon, send in the receipt, notarized proof-of-purchase seals, and 1 dollar to the above address and we will cheerfully send you a facsimile of The Lizzie Borden House, that’s right, the same person who gave her parents 40 whacks. I’ve heard people putting this piece of history on their key chain. Hey, whatever works for you to enjoy Gil Thorp Pork Products and eat them too. Mimi used one to put on the dog collar. It made strolling around the block a lot more fun, that’s for sure.

Then there are those who love our sausage biscuits and eat them as regularly as Big Mac’s. Yeah, take that, Tennessee Pride. You may be #1 in the business but we’ll catch you one of these days and our Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sage Bitterroot Sausage Sandwiches will be leading the way. One of these days, all those sexual misbehaviors that are rumored to be emanating from the Hot ‘n’ Spicy Sausage production line will be on the front page and you’ll be as naked as one of your hogs on the slaughter table. The janitor’s closet can only hold so many people.

So send in the receipt, 3 proof-of-purchase seals, your W-2’s, and 1 dollar to the above address and we will send you absolutely free a replica of The Franklin Castle, yeah, that haunted house in Cleveland, Ohio where Hannes Tiedemann was virtually a tycoon and used his riches to inflict cruelty on his family and friends. Yeah, Tennessee Pride employees, don’t go sexually indiscriminate in this place if you don’t want to wind up on a rack. And the replica adds a nice touch to your den or where you might have fine china in a cabinet stored. Just place it next to the picture of Goya’s ‘El Sueno de la Razon Produce Los Monstruesos’ and the cutlery used by members of the Versailles Conference and status is completely assured. You might even get an invitation to attend the next Milford Country Club Spring Golf Raffle Shotgun Start. Every step along the way to The Road to Success helps.

What more can I say? Come get your package of Gil Thorp Pure Pork Hot ‘n’ Nasty Supreme and a Waverly Sanatorium replica on an eraser pad at your grocer’s freezer. Fine eatin’ and haunted houses never tasted better.”

Gang, I live down the road from Waverly Sanatorium and I can see why it is one of the most haunted places in America. One day, on a chilly sunny afternoon, that eerie tower on a hill just stared through the bare trees at the humanity below. The shock waves that went through me.

God bless you all, Gang.

At the Milford Zoning Authority office

“It’s pronounced Gray-LICK!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Fine, Mr. Gray-LICK Thorp. You should hear from us in a week to see if your garage extension has been approved.”

At the Pearl residence

“AAAAARRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mrs. Dr. Pearl, I threw out my back!!!!! Where’s my Life Alert?”

“Honey Buggle Wuggle Baby Bumpers Chock Full Of Peaches And Cream, I believe you left it on the counter. Too many push-ups again?”


  1. P2 has all kinds of confusion. It talks about hard throwing John Grielick of Madison, but that’s some Tank Town ham n egger throwing a 16 inch softball. Dad gummit, Mudlarks lose 2-1. Getting too close to the playdowns. Gil must’ve called the squeeze play with no one on base like Charlie Brown’s hero Joe Schlabotnik once did.

    Comment by Jive Turkey — June 28, 2022 @ 12:16 pm

  2. Yeah, Gregg is finally gonna’ gagg, but Gil will somehow turn it into a teachable moment and look like a gutsy hero for giving this dork a shit-ton of playing time, even though my 87 year old mom could field bunts better than he does, not to mention that absolutely no one has had a problem with this shit, especially opposing teams. “…sorry coach, but no way my team is stepping in the box with him pitching…”. It would be fitting for the ump that Gil told a thing or two to came forward and said “… my warnings about his eyesight were dismissed with prejudice by his coach…”. Put that on the local news or just wait until a batter gets one in the eye and is permanently injured and put that on the news instead. But no, Gill and Gregg will look awesome af by the time this nonsense wraps up, if it ever wraps up.

    Comment by franku2016 — June 28, 2022 @ 2:11 pm

  3. And hey Rubin!… fuck you!…. This story is a huge insult to pitchers everywhere who understand how hard it is to pitch with perfect eyesight. To make it seem like a vision-impaired kid can be successful at this is really sad.

    Comment by franku2016 — June 28, 2022 @ 2:25 pm

  4. I’m guessing that the double in P1 is a line drive down the thirdbase line. Yeah, I know, what line? But we’ve seen this before, a field with bases and lines not where they should be.

    Comment by MopMan — June 28, 2022 @ 2:59 pm

  5. 1. God… By Thursday ESPN’S “30-For-30” documentary crew will be camping outside the fence…

    1a. Yes dumbasses, it’s a TV news van… I know you’ve seen one before but don’t let that stop you from gawking like a couple of yokels from Mayberry…

    Comment by Hitorque — June 28, 2022 @ 5:18 pm

  6. Another great day for comments!!!!!!!!!!

    Jive Turkey, you get Comment of the Day, hands down. I read that same Charlie Brown comic and loved it too so when I saw how you applied it to Thorpiversian endeavors, I just LMAO. Bravo, My Man.
    But you all did great. I kick back with my coffee and sausage biscuits and learn. YOU make it happen. It’s your world, I’m just living in it.

    God bless you, Gang. You make my world.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — June 29, 2022 @ 1:50 pm

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