This Week in Milford

March 17, 2021

Time to Tidy

We’ve come to that time in the arc where there’s a week, maybe two left and Rubin has to hastily come up with a way to tie all his little subplots neatly together. Multiple games are condensed into a single strip and the outcomes are told, not shown. Everybody’s little personality traits get lip service whether or not they actually advance the plot. A pun, a smirk, and a freeze frame exit down a corridor, then it’s on to the next season.

Yesterday’s seemingly random three panels are a prime example. So little ink has been spent on actual sports action this winter that only then did we get a hint that the Lady Mudlarks have a coach are in contention to win the Valley. Given how often Milford teams have lost the Valley through crazy flukes, it’s about time that a conference rival has defeat snatched from the jaws of victory – even if it’s completely via exposition. Marjie Ducey apparently had enough free time on her hands to call Mimi and inform her of Madison’s choke job at Oakwood; did she do the same today for their meltdown against weaksauce Valley Tech? Oh wait: it wasn’t Madison that melted down, it was Mimi’s face! Didn’t need Marjie to make that obvious.

The Lady Mudlarks’ on-court success has come in spite of being less than harmonious off-court. (Well, I guess if you can say the entire team vs. one player isn’t harmonious.) Milford’s version of the Bronx Zoo has won despite that one player’s lack of defense, so it may be safe to say that while Tessi Milton may not be the straw that stirs the Mudlark drink, she’s not the turd in the punch bowl either. That role falls on Co-co-rina who, as the self-styled Greek chorus and observer of Tessi’s every flaw, would probably be cast as the Sparky Lyle of the group. Now if only she’d sit bare-assed on her teammates’ birthday cakes, that’d seal the analogy.

meta: Apologies for the late post: early and long day on the job.

March 14, 2021

Time for Some Whompin’ Action!

**THIS IS THE SATURDAY POST**

The Lady Mudlarks go all West Virginia Ninja on Oakwood…

… but not before dropping some heavy hints on now-designated Shallow Girl Tessi Milton.

I’ve admired Whigham’s shot-blocking artwork in the past and here again, he delivers. I gotta say Becca’s stuff on that Oakwood girl is pretty sweet but how high is she that she can make that block with her arm out almost horizontally? Maybe the Oak is just that low – more like an acorn, amirite? In any event Milford gets the W though I wouldn’t exactly call six points a whompin’.

Minus the Contessa (hey, that’d make a good band name!), the Lady Mudlarks corral Vic at the announcer’s table. What’s next for young Mr. Doucette may be best left to the imagination, or at least until Monday. Will he roll up to the prom in his GMC Safari with a harem posse? Stay tuned…

March 10, 2021

Done and Dusted? Not Yet

Filed under: anatomically implausible, basketball, Coffee Cantina, freak hands — teenchy @ 11:50 am

Between the four members of our TWIM blogger rotation and our astute readers, we’ve dissected the character of Corina Karenna six ways from Sunday. Suffice it to say that any sympathy the hive mind may have had for her once her backstory was revealed during the spring and summer 2020 arcs dissipated in the fall as quickly as the Nats’ hopes of defending their 2019 World Series title. By painting her as some kind of voice of unvarnished truth, Rubin has also painted a corner for her in which she fits nicely: as the bearer of unvarnished truths no one else at Milford High would rather deliver. Need someone to tell somebody something they need to hear ’cause you don’t have the guts to tell them yourself? Go get Corina! She lives to burst people’s bubbles and besides, no one likes her anyway!

Having been so anointed, Corina is now compelled to report back to the troops on the outcome of her little mission. Is this happening at practice, or during a game? In either case, wouldn’t Tessi be there too? Rubin, if you’re reading this (and we’re already getting strong hints that you are), please let this devolve into the kind of hair-pulling slapfest of a catfight the readership has been longing for for some time. We’d even be okay with you assigning seconds. That limp-wristed girl down in front with the hand as long as her forearm would be a good stand-in.

Quick cut to the Coffee Cantina and a really awkward POV across the bow of an anonymous coffee drinker to the “he said” side of this subplot. Doug and Vic agree on the weakness of Tessi’s blowoff but then Doug throws Vic the hanging curveball (wait, wrong season, wrong sports metaphor; how about “gives Vic the lane for an easy lay-up”?). Vic’s reply will likely fall along the lines of “Tessi’s the first girl to actually speak to me,” at which point Doug will either point out either (a) there are other fish in the sea or (b) why not just ask someone who’s not interested in girls but has expressed an interest in your van? At that point Doug’s and Vic’s eyes will lock over a steaming hot latte and we’ll get a plot twist no one saw coming.

February 17, 2021

All About Shoes

Hey kids! Today you’re gonna get an installment of teenchy’s True Life Stories!

Back in the day when dinosaurs roamed the earth your old pal teenchy drove a ’66 Ford Mustang. These days ’66 Mustangs are considered classics almost on a par with Doug Guthrie’s GTO, but when I owned one it was a just a nice used car. While I was away at college I had a minor fender bender with it, requiring the replacement of the left front fender, the front bumper, and a headlight bulb. Not long after the repairs were done I drove back home to see the folks and let them see how well the repairs had been done. I brought a friend with me and that Saturday night we barhopped. On the way back home, much like ol’ Doug here, I saw the flashing blue lights behind me; unlike Doug, I thought I might be spending the night somewhere other than in my own bed.

Instead of “License and registration, please,” the first words the state trooper drawled to me were “Son, who painted yer car?” Stunned, I asked him to repeat himself, whereupon he proceeded to admire my Mustang’s paint job and its overall condition. I sheepishly admitted to the recent accident and repair and told him the name of the shop that had done the work. The trooper replied, “Well, they did a nice job, but I believe they forgot to hook up yer headlight when they finished up. I’m giving yew a warning and telling yew to hook them wires back up when it gets daylight in the mornin’. Yew’l see my name and badge number on that warning; if yew ever want to sell this car call the barracks and ask for me.”

Sure enough, the next morning I popped the hood and saw the left headlight connector and wiring harness dangling on the inner fender just below the sealed beam unit. I eventually sold the ‘stang but I never did call that trooper, though.

I’m guessing Doug’s having a similar experience with old Officer Wilbon here, but I’m a little confused about the tires comment. The Flowmasters probably let the Tri-Power 389 breathe a bit better but top end is as much a function of gearing as it is of horsepower. Doug might be implying that if the Goat were to run a little faster, he might have to replace its shoes with a set having a higher speed rating. Finding tires in the correct size for older cars is getting harder and more expensive by the day as manufacturers focus production on higher-volume sizes for current models. How that factors into Doug’s decision isn’t clear, and neither we nor Tom Muench have time for that, so off we go to Milford High and hoops practice.

Sorry for rambling on about my youth and the vagaries of classic car tires, but I figure it had to be at least as interesting as watching Tom and Doug awkwardly run laps for being late to practice. (Doug was so distracted he put his sneakers on the wrong feet.) Gil must take comfort knowing the hardwood is one place Clan Guthrie doesn’t lord it over him.

November 21, 2020

A Shot in the Dark

Oh geez, here we go again with the volleyball girls who finish each other’s sentences. This schtick is getting old, just like everything else in this fall arc. (Don’t try getting your left hand and wrist that close to your face at that angle like the dark-haired girl in P2. We don’t have any chiropractors on staff here.) So what’s with the tiny crack in Corina’s “What football team? I don’t care about the football team” veneer? Does the idea of guys fighting get her all tingly and stuff?

Now for the mildly interesting cliffhanger that might answer that question. It’s been established that Corinna has zero interest in the quarterback boys. So why the h-e-double-hockey sticks is she inviting Rapp over to her place on a school night? Time for a “shot” to impress mama Karenna by sitting in on a hot game of Uno? Or is mama Karenna off to therapy and Rapp’s “shot” is to steal as many bases as possible off the catcher? Oh, it’s high ribaldry at its best! And it’s about to start – let’s watch!

November 18, 2020

I’m Just Saying, But Did Milford Cover the Spread?

All action – well, almost all action – today as Milford dominates Tilden. Tom “Don’t Call Me Butt” Muench is all over the field, stripping oversized footballs and causing Theismannesque leg injuries.* Chance Macy, perhaps the most realistically drawn player we’ve seen in some time**, racks up the yardage and probably scores some points. Quick cut to the sidelines where a lineman who appears to be part flounder makes an aside to a young Sylvester Stallone that maybe the Mudlarks should have run up the score.

The Chekhov’s guns left strewn about over the past few strips are leading us to a logical conclusion that the Valley title will boil down to point differential. Either out of a sense of sportsmanship or of continued punishment, Gil will keep Stallone Rappson on the bench when his free-wheeling style of play would be more likely to help Milford obtain those margins of victory necessary to win the Valley. Someone will have learned a lesson, though I’m not sure who will learn it or how valuable that lesson will be.

In any event, it’s more entertaining than watching Corinna be a bitch to everyone she meets.

*Thirty-five years ago today. What a coincidence.

**Sticking with the NFC East theme, whenever I see a running back wearing #31 and an OPO-DW style face mask my mind goes immediately to Wilbert Montgomery.

November 9, 2020

Hip Dysplasia, Something Terrible

Today we get just a tiny glimpse at Mimi’s approach to coaching volleyball. She’s very focused on the arrangement of spectators and prefers all twelve people at the game to sit in a tight group. Beyond that, we’re all still in the dark.

It’s a good thing Gil has sway over everything that everyone at Milford High does and that Mimi can feed him chocolate ice cream and engage him in her seating arrangement dilemma. Of course ol’ Gil’s gonna do something about it. Umm, what the hell is up with Gil and Mimi’s legs in panel one? Their position relative to their respective torsos is insane.

I don’t know who the students in panel 3 are. I don’t know what gender they are. A day in Milford doesn’t go by without somebody doing something terrible. This is probably about seating in the gym, but what do these randos have to do with it?

October 24, 2020

Shush Me on the Bus

While there have been a few comics that have addressed the current global pandemic (including, ironically, that other sports-themed daily Tank McNamara), most have not. To date, the Valley has been virus-free, but looking at today’s strip I’m beginning to think Whigham has been influenced in some way by the pandemic’s impact on sports.

I mean, look at those kids on the Milford activity bus. With so little space between the rows of seats they’ve gotta be cardboard cutouts, don’t they? Their conversation is pretty two-dimensional too. The whole lot of them are adding fuel to the fire of the quarterback controversy that isn’t, except for Danny Bonaduce down in front there who’s slowly realizing that it’s not Shirley Jones behind the wheel. Who drives the Mudlark School Bus, anyway? Gil? Kaz? Cheech? Whichever coach isn’t driving needs to back there and nip this crap in the bud.

Older Posts »

Blog at WordPress.com.