Today’s strip is just three panels of “Kevin Pelwecki, the most clueless kid at Milford High.” Where was Pelwecki last year when The Hurricane blew in from Kingsbrook and the girls from Central showed up with signs? We know they were on the field together at least once (no, make that twice) so it’s not like Kevin couldn’t have been aware of Ryan’s talent… or his reputation. Van Auken might have been going to anger management classes instead of those camps.
Finally, what sequence of events sends Pelwecki into Gil’s office in full uniform, getting all pissy about the attention Ryan got from one college? Again, has he forgotten about the talent Van Auken showed before he got to Milford and since, and how he’s only turned serious attention to baseball in the past few weeks?
The Real Kevin Pelwecki, if you’re out there reading this, I hope you didn’t cheese Rubin off too badly IRL. Your character deserves better. ;-)
“Ordinary things take longer in the prison system… like showers.”
My first inclination today was to search to see if Ms. Rizk was staying on model (I’d say close enough). I was thinking that between her knowledge of the penal system and her approach to journalism, Ms. Rizk might not be her real name, and that she’s a refugee from the Federal Witness Protection Program. Then I noticed this strip in which Gil was ready to jump on Ms. Rizk and Dafne for thinking about writing about Ryan Van Auken. Where’s Gilberto now that these two have turned their attention to Barry Bader? Oh, that’s right, no one gives two shits for Barry.
Now what in tarhooties does Dafne think sending a letter to Del in the can is gonna accomplish? I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to reach that conclusion. Maybe if she keeps up the convo and sends some pics along with the letter, the guys in Central State Pen will think Dafne’s Del’s girlfriend… kinda like Pee-Wee and Lou.
Oh, yeah, I guess that last panel is supposed to remind us that there’s still some kind of sports going on in Milford. Think we’ll ever see another softball game?
Really? On June 1st, we have high school kids sitting around talking about the future of some dude who’s overstayed his welcome longer then Roseanne was on the air.
Does the balding guy really hit Kevin in the head with the check? Wish I could read some of it. A doctor couldnt write worse.
Again, its June 1st, and Kevin is THINKING about getting a scholarship, to what? AND GIL STILL THINKS ITS TOO EARLY!!! Yaaash. Its the colleges decision to AWARD a scholorship to Academically qualified students, emphasis on Academically. How on earth does this mope with a mop think just because he knows all that shit about launch angles all of a sudden he’s on his way to Arizona State and the College World Series for free?? How’s he doing in class? Who knows? I’m sure even he hasnt looked at a book since March, so busy rubbing his magic bat is he. I guess we’re stuck with this crap till August, because it’ll take that long to finish the season and Maybe, Maybe, graduate before Labor Day.
But we dont have to worry about Roseanne. As I mentioned before, her new show got cancelled, and I couldnt care less. I havent given a rats ass about her since that night in San Diego when she put on a singing performance for the ages. I didnt watch the first version of the show either; John Goodman was best known to me as The Babe in the worst movie ever made, and the daughter (who had the idea for the show revival) was kinda cute with her ripped jeans, but otherwise the show was non- existent in my world. But since she’s got more free time, how about singing the anthem at a Mudlarks game this summer? Couldnt be any worse then these storylines. A one, a two, a three….
Well I was all ready for another day of Barry justifying to his mom why he thinks it’s a good idea to bare his soul to Dafne Dafonte and, by extension, to the Milford High student body. Barry could point out that budget cuts sent “Sarah,” or “Mrs. Forbes,” or whoever packing and that his coaches would rather manhandle and punish him than see that he gets some kind of help. If Rubin turns this arc into “Barry’s Got a Gun” it wouldn’t surprise me a lick, and I’d expect him to handle it as tactfully as he handled the crisis in Puerto Rico post-Maria.
But noooo, we’re back to actual action and, with two games in one strip, a reminder that the baseball season needs to speed up a little. (BTW, shouldn’t Barry’s two-game suspension be over after the Valley Tech game? Did he make the trip to Jefferson?) I’m curious as to whether the Jeffs outfielder has dislocated his arm at the shoulder in an effort to snag Pelwecki’s tater, ’cause it looks like that arm will hang below his knees once he lowers it. Meanwhile, Pelwecki is starting to come perilously close to turning from likeable, ambitious wannabe star into that most common of Milford athletes, a braggart whose hubris will be his undoing. Careful, Kevin: slow that home run trot down too much and you’ll get the Carlos Gomez treatment.
Hoo boy. When spoiled brat Bader doesn’t get his way and threatens to take his attitude and go home, as if that were threatening ANYONE, does he do an about-face after getting blind-sided by some angel (or the Derby jerk, you decide) on the road to Damascus and repent and consequently bow 5 times to Mecca every day, reciting “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘team'” from the Koran? Do you really want me to answer that?
He is in rare form today as he just about tells the team that he’s The Franchise and that he is holding out for more money and that he’s worth more than Coach Kaz, Coach Thorp, and Luhm’s time-and-a-half on the weekend when Luhm is pulling that bedraggled chain link fence to smooth down the baseball diamond. And I hate to bring up Jerry Pulver again, the KING of attitudes (trust me on that one) but at least he had the game to back up his immaturity. Bader’s decent but really not in a position to be a poster child for Preparation H for the month of February as he’s displaying in P1.
And apparently out of fear from Thorpiverse that we might, out of disgust for the development of ANOTHER bad plot a-brewin, switch over to Buzz Sawyer and Roscoe Sweeney (“Thank God Marty isn’t here to second-guess Buzz’s investigations at the strip joint”), Thorpiverse inserts a lame sidebar a/k/a HOR-hay pulling a Moose on us and trying his hand at pitching. Did HOR-hay go the way of Robert Johnson and sell his soul for an effective change-up or slider? Only the witnesses at the Milford/Oakwood crossroads know the answer to that one. Not that we’re pressing the issue, you understand.
Gang, I honestly tried. My dad has always taught me to never be predictable when doing comedy. He was right. As a part-time actor, he knows a thing or two about keeping the act FRESH.
Still, with that in mind, this was hard to pass up and the lyrics just wrote themselves as you’ll soon see. And because I truly love my dad and therefore really dig his reverence for Warren Zevon, it was a no-brainer. God, the miles we have gone listening to “Werewolves of London” going all the way back to my teenage years. And as a bonus, you whippersnappers, I’ll betcha didn’t know that Mick Fleetwood was on drums and John McVie was on bass (yes, Fleetwood Mac) accompanying Mr. Zevon. Small world, eh? Anyway, another offering from Zevon, sung to “Boom Boom Mancini”, sit back and enjoy:
From Milford, God knows where, Boom Boom Bader was born
A heavyweight pretender, like father, like son
They acted like buttholes to everyone they met
And they stuck Father Bader down in Cell Number One
So hurry to the ballpark, hurry right away
Boom Boom the Wienie’s fighting Coach Thorp today
Hurry to the ballpark, hustle on your way
Boom Boom the Wienie’s sittin’ flat on his “A”
When Coach Kaz gave Boom Boom a royal tongue-lashing
Boom Boom pouted and moped, he was thorny as a rose
Boom Boom does have the speed and the fielding prowess
But if he can’t take the punches, he should stay in street clothes
So hurry to the ballpark, hurry don’t be late
Boom Boom the Wienie’s gonna up and seal his fate
Hurry to the ballpark, hurry don’t delay
Boom Boom the Wienie’s gettin’ a benching today
When he lost his position cuz he’s a long-standing prick
Never should have fought him, Derby dude was a dick
They made hypocrite judgments after the fact
But the name of his game is be a jerk and jerk back
So hurry to the ballpark, hurry if you can
Boom Boom the Wienie’s sittin’ down with no plan
Hurry to the ballpark, hurry don’t be late
Boom Boom the Wienie’s gettin’ singed by his teammates
Loved your music, too. Warren. Miss ya.
If ya got nailed by the home plate umpire for “illegal pitch” because your change-up, curve, and slider went higher than 12 feet but the batter crushed yore slider for a home run anyway because the umpire had his left hand out in a fist, signaling “delayed dead ball”, ya might be a redneck.
Then there’s the Rogues Gallery again. I know, I know, I hear you Baders out there saying “T. Drew”, don’t beat a joke in the ground, you’ve already mentioned that one”. I’m glad SOMEONE cares to read my comments on the Comment section, nice to know that SOMEONE besides my mother reads what I have to say but P2 just REEKS of Mr. Freeze/Egghead. Both were bald, right? Just pick out the one you want and go with the flow. And at least I’m switching gears and jumping from Dick Tracy’s frying pan to Batman’s oven. Anyway, he and The Riddler are giving Bader an earful, pointing out that when Batman’s criminals are not terrorizing Gotham City, or Milford at rush hour, they DO take one for the team. Didn’t Egghead get down and dirty and soil his uniform for the winning run? You can look it up, Yogi.
“So much for launch angles. It looks like Gil’s trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Moose, next time, hit the batting cages at Milford Bat ‘n’ Putt and don’t use the machine spitting out plastic balls at 40MPH. And, Coach, loosely speaking, batting tees are for T-Ball, not floppy-haired teenagers who tried their hand at quarterback. And we’ll be right back after this commercial break, with the score, Oakwood 8, Milford 2, you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”
Off the mike
“He’s back!!!!!!! He’s back!!!!!!!! Pay up!!!!! Told you he couldn’t bite the bullet on Coach T!!!!!!!”
“Those Anger Management classes at Milford Community College didn’t do diddly. Talk about a silk purse from a donkey’s ear.”
“Daddy, Mommy said you need an erector set. But I already have one in my toy box. You gave it to me for Christmas, remember? Don’t you remember when I made WDIG Station out of it? The doggie chewed up Studio 3 but you can have the rest of my Lego blocks.”
Spits out his Evian while teaching Keri the fine art of putting at Milford GC, at a random spot on the green at hole #5, par 4, dog leg left.
“Well, Honey, Mommy probably meant to say something else. But you’ll learn all about it in Health Sciences class this Fall at Milford Elementary.”
“WOW!!!!!! You mean they have erector sets in Health class????? I want to learn how smoking hurts your body!!!!! I saw a Lego guy puffing from a cigarette. The teacher pumped smoke into his chest. It burned about 40 Lego blocks. There was a great big hole in his body. Some of the naughty boys aimed their paper airplanes at it. A couple of boys got sent down to the principal for shooting spit wads at it.”
Gil, trying to recover, pulls out his Copenhagen Long Cut Wintergreen from his back pants pocket
“Well, blub, blub, I won’t have that problem, no Holy Chest from this snuff I’m putting in my mouth. Maybe from my incisors but I brush with Colgate with Fluoride twice a day.”
Keri, oblivious to the chaw Daddy is cramming in his gums
“I want to build Mommy’s body and learn ALL ABOUT how bad smoking is for you. But, Daddy, I have a problem. The doggie ate a lot of the pieces and I don’t know if I have enough Lego blocks to fill out Mommy’s boobs.”
Choking on his Copenhagen, his gums a black-chartreuse mix
“Keri, I think you’ll learn all you need to know about smoking this year and if you don’t have enough Lego blocks, I can special-order them. I kept the 800 number for lost toy parts. I’ll call this evening and the FedEx truck should swing by the house in a couple of days.”
“Thanks, Daddy, maybe you can special-order an erector set yourself. HEY!!!!!!! I GOT IT!!!!!!!!! You can make a horse!!!!!!! I always hear you saying that Marty’s a horse’s ass. I still have some blue squares, the dog didn’t eat those.”
“Blib, Blob, Bloopy, Oopy-Doopy-Doopy, GREAT SHOT, Keri!!!!!!!!! You didn’t need a putter’s aid that time. Atta way to line up the ball. Drive for show, putt for dough. WAY TO GO!!!!!!!!”
“I knew I had to confront my Erectile Dysfunction problems when Keri went behind my back and bought another erector set. It was bad enough that she used Mimi’s credit card but a yellow horse with a blue butt, some still with teeth marks, just didn’t look good on the coffee table next to the lava lamp and the ’63 Mudlark yearbook. I tried explaining to my poker buddies when we meet on Tuesday that it was an art project at school but I was dead meat when one of my buddies told me that his daughter was in the same art class and they were doing Henri Matisse using only Crayolas. I was trapped.
Fortunately, the Milford Men’s Clinic helped me avoid any more embarrassing conversations. They have treatment programs that work. I gambled on 4th-and-1 with my Visa Gold and not only got the 1st down, I ran in the end zone with the winning TD!!!!!!!!! I spiked the ball and did the Ickey Shuffle in celebration and in bed!!!!!!!!!!! Mimi enjoyed every minute of my slam-dunking the goal post!!!!!!!!!!
Now I can show Keri how to drop the ball when she shanks one in Milford Nature Center and I am more confident under the sheets. 2 in, 3 out is confined to the golf course, I am happy to say. As a bonus, I sent that horse to Marty as a token of my welcoming him back. He’ll figure out the color scheme. At Milford Men’s Clinic, it’s all black and white, no chewed-over blue Lego blocks to cover your you-know-what. Mine is covered nicely and I have peace of mind. Come check ’em out yourself. You’ll be glad you did.”
Finally, to regurgitate the question, but in a different way, what measures does Bader pursue to solve the obvious problem, i. e., he’s a self-centered lout growing up to be just like his dad, sans prison outfit? Look in the mirror and decide he’s had enough? He will suddenly realize, through an epiphany, that there’s 8 other guys on the ball field, more in the dugout? Boy, the money I could make selling property in Milford Valley if anyone truly believes that one.
No, Bader, to repair a jerky image cuts the Gordian knot and bares his soul to Daffy at the Milford Enquirer. Let her pour ketchup on her cheese fries before you spill your guts, BB.
I mean, come on, does he REALLY think he’s going to get anywhere selling his rights for a story to keep his teammates from laughing at him? I personally wouldn’t throw a match at the gasoline tank and find out. But it’s his funeral. If he thinks he can repair his image by explaining why he’s a jerk in the column next to Gil and Mimi being taken up in a UFO for one night rather than the annual trip to Mudlark Lake Resort or Coach Kaz explaining how Vitamin B1 enhanced chest hair growth or longer sideburns, more power to him. Oh, you know you saw this one coming
Today’s Headline from the Milford Enquirer
“I WASN’T A TEAM PLAYER BECAUSE I WASN’T POTTY-TRAINED UNTIL I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“Daddy Bader was out of town on business trips many times to promote the new line of ice boxes.”
Gang, I forgot to mention yesterday to please thank a Veteran. Personally, I take 5 minutes out of my day to thank 1 Veteran for his services to our country but I understand everybody’s different. The point is DO SOMETHING to let our Veterans know they’re appreciated. If EVERYBODY would do SOMETHING, the world would be that much better. And our Veterans would be taken care of, in the bargain.
Gang, it’s your turn. Bonus points if you can sock it to Bader but, hey, we’re not picky around here.
At the beginning of the season, Jorge Padilla was in the outfield, but today he’s on the mound. Faithful TWIMer vaganova has previously pointed out that high school pitchers, often the best athletes on their teams, frequently play the outfield, first base or DH between starts. Maybe that’s the case with Jorge, but today he doesn’t appear to be the best pitcher on the Mudlarks. Maybe that skinny kid can jump but his pitches can’t. Gil may be giving Jorge the hook in P2; from here it looks like he’s asking him to give him some.
No sign of Barry Bader today. I thought it was odd that Gil brought him along to Tilden, as it’s been my understanding that suspended players don’t travel with the team. Of course, these are Thorp Rules and it was probably Gil that suspended him, not the Valley Conference. If it was me, I’d have had him waiting back in the equipment room in Milford to wash everybody’s jocks when they got back.
Hey, is that Big Ken Brown back on the bench shouting words of encouragement to Pelwecki? Doesn’t he have anything better to do?
Well here it is Memorial Day weekend, and graduations are going on this weekend plus a co-worker has her sons on Tuesday night, and in Milford its… the Conference Opener?? Another example of slow play thats not on the golf course. Bader looks like the saddest kid on earth as he ponders when Dafne will grill him about his dad like so many burgers and brats. Maybe he’s thinking .. if I could sneak over to the other bench and don a helmet, nobody will notice I’m playing for the other team! Hey, the way that Tildenite swung and missed by a mile even with the ball being straight as a string ( why is every pitch straight as a string?) Why dont we see ONE human being behind the Tilden batter? No fan, player, on-deck hitter, dugout shot, umpire out of position, announcer ( hey Marty Moon, your suspension has ended) or reporter ( hey Marjie Ducey, would be nice to see you more then 3 times a year)?
Pelwecki goes yard in P2, and he’s quietly fading into the background in this storyline, (thank goodness. If I hear any more launch angle crap I’m running on the field myself and tackling him before he gets home.)
So maybe Bader will see the field again before summer starts. Or maybe he’ll graduate like everyone else and leave the team and this dreadful scene behind as he moves on to a college career as a wine taster. Sorry, a whine taster. Cheers!
OK, Gil Thorp, I am not ashamed to admit that, when it comes to depictions of cartoon violence, you have my full attention. Showing the Derby baserunner (my hero!) dusting himself off in P1 just before getting tackled made my day. The only disappointment is that we miss the rest of the tussle and skip right ahead to the ump ejecting BB.
Bonus points:
BB’s form looks pretty good in panel two.
I always thought umps tossed people with their thumbs, not their pointer fingers but maybe I’m wrong about that.
Bonus questions:
How much of a run up do you think BB got and did the Derby baserunner (my hero!) see him coming or was he hit from the side?
Did I mention that the Derby baserunner is my hero?
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