This Week in Milford

September 5, 2019

Everybody Was Kung Fu Fumbling.

Filed under: actual action, Coach Shaw, football, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Marty Moon, Oakwood — tdrewhardin @ 10:55 am


Ruh Roh. Me and Scooby Doo and the rest of the TWIMers are hangin’ on the edge of our seats with that one phrase I get a sick-gut feeling is going to be the anthem sung the next few months. It might attain cliche status when it is all said and done but Gil is one giant cliche, so we’re not alone. Share the banality, Man.

And where else do you start but with Marty Moon? I will faint the day Dick Vitale shows up in the WDIG booth along with Mike Patrick to perform his schtick in front of Mudlark students fresh from burning Beatle records (Just because Lennon said “We’re bigger than Coach Thorp”?) and French Revolution activities (Vive Le Football Arc!!!!!!!!!!) .

And Marty is getting off on the right foot, his CBS NCAA College Basketball Tournament Draw not quite filled out on his laptop

“And Chance Macy scampers up the middle for a gain of about 4, second and 6-hmmmm, UCLA vs. Wofford? Nah, Bruins got too much talent-Wow!!!!!! What a hit Tiki leveled on that Oak-Acorn-Triplet-Nutcase tailback!!!!!!-geez, how ’bout North Carolina and Bucknell, I dunno, look what ol’ Bucky did to Kansas in the first round one year, gotta go with my gut and predict an upse-Fleming down on the ground after being speared in the crotch, the Oak-Acorn-Triplet-Nutcase is ejected, being escorted by the Milford Police and Coach Andrews-no way, St. Olaf’s ain’t gonna touch Duke even if they are hosting the first two gam-The trainer is down on the field, pulling down Fleming’s pants, it appears he forgot to stick his cup in when he was donning his jock strap-let’s see, Indiana and New Hampshire School of Architecture, hey, there’s parity in college basketball, any given da-THERE GOES MACY, HE’S ALL ALONE, THE 30, THE 20, THE 10, TOUCHDOWN, MILFORD-that’s a toss-up, Texas Tech and Brigham Young, if BYU’s center can shake off his knee injury…”


Gang, remember those old movies at around 11:00PM (“Where is Keri and Jaime, Gil?”) , where the Oriental family (Chinese, Burmese, Japanese, Korean, miscellaneous Far Eastern nationality) was using their martial arts (Karate, Kung Fu, Judo, etc.) for just about ANY reason? Mom hung the laundry on the line and Dad asked Mom how long before his Hanes dried, kick, kick, kick box, oh, about another hour, kick, punch, flip, dance on clothesline. That’s good, kick, punch, scratch his private area, I have that meeting with Coach Thorp this afternoon, he’s interviewing me for equipment manager, jab, swing, cobra position, no problem, I should have you ready along with your best pin-stripe suit, punch, kick, reverse kick on a booth at The Bucket.

Isn’t that really what this arc is, Chinese Dad died and is now kick-boxing with Jesus, replaced by Chet Ballard who still needs to learn a few moves to get the hang of this arc? No worries. I’m sure Charlie can show Chet, er, American Dad (“Dad” for short) the ropes on B Movie Martial Arts techniques.

Charlie, kick, box, SLAM, jab, poke, kick again, call me Dad, kick, punch, WHAP, slap, I will, once you take this pebble out of my hand, Chet, kick, punch, BAM, BOOM, slap, punch, Chet down on the ground in obvious pain, Dr. Pearl’s Model T policy in his hand

“Chet, you’re going to have to do better anticipating the cross kick. Shouldn’t have left your fly open.”


If yore return volley from some punk Oriental kid who just keeps harassin’ ya with kick, jab, punch, kick box is the tried-and-true load, lock, sight, aim, BLAM and the kid goes runnin’ home ta mamma with buckshot up his britches, ya might be a redneck.


What better way for Now-You-See-Him-Now-You-Don’t Shaw to return to the sidelines than P2 where he is contributing his two bits worth to Bruce Lee’s-Stepfather-Disguised-as-Don Everly-In-Obvious-Need-of-Dentu-Creme? I just love it when Coach Shaw can handle all the details so that Gil can get down to business and concentrate on the team. Without Coach Shaw and his Take-My-Quarterback-Please one-liners to fill in the gaps of the plot and move that and the chains on the sideline, the football team would still be at the 1-yard line. No sense in Gil trying to teach the 46 defense without help. Did you ever see Buddy Ryan without Henny Youngman? Rest my case.

Only, why is Gil shouting ACROSS the field? I thought your players were along the same sidelines with you unless the game’s a forfeit and we’re just scrimmaging and exchanging a few players to round out the roster at a couple of key positions. Unless Roh is engaged in warfare with Coach Andrews. Yeah, that’s it

Coach, kick, kick, box, slam helmet on Andrews’ head, your team sucks and belongs in a pasture with the rest of the cows, slap, kick, box, oh yeah?, punch, jab, swat, box, where does your coach style his hair, at The Spaghetti Factory?, kick, WHAP, flip, accidentally smack referee with judo chop for 15 yard penalty, well, at least I didn’t leave the team 30 years ago and try to start my own strip, without Thorpiverse, you’re worthless like your team, kick, jab, box, you’ll be stuck in 30 years, too, trust me, kick, box, punch, flip, fart,…


Everybody was Kung Fu fumbling

And the plot was kick-box bumbling

Even though Roh’s play was frightening

He fumbled with expert timing


And while we’re going the Oriental movie route, no Oriental movie, or foreign language film in general, is complete without the lip-synch track attempting to match the words of our Oriental actors and actresses. Gil Kai-Shek is no exception. You THINK he is saying

“Roh, check in for Chance!!!!!!!!!!”

But when Gil’s lips keep moving, you know he had to have said more than that, so here is Gil conveying what he REALLY said in his native Cantonese

“ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get your ass over here and quit bitchin’ at Andrews!!!!!!!!!! Geez Louise, you’re slower than Marty sippin’ bourbon at the Milford Lounge. Check in at the scorer’s table!!!!!!!! DUMBASS, it’s right over there where Tiki’s pickin’ his nose, THERE, OVER THERE, NO DIPSHIT, not by the cheerleaders, you’re gonna get a karate kick with their megaphone, YES OVER THERE, where Scott’s usin’ a surgical tool on the halfback’s hamstring!!!!!!!!!! NOW WAIT UNTIL THE REF SIGNALS YOU IN, STUPID!!!!!!!!!! We still gotta kick the extra point, oh, Jesus, Coach Shaw, I hope he doesn’t have this much trouble at the scorer’s table in basketball, the scorer speaks Mandarin…”


And the signage is back!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Us Thorpiverse veterans relish that placards at a football game carry the day and were practically the 12th man at the football games during the Berrill years.  I don’t know what the sign in the background is saying, I never studied Shanghainese at Milford Community College but I have my dictionary handy (Langenscheidt’s Shanghainese-English, English-Shanghainese, 3rd Edition, 25th Printing)

“Eat  my shorts, Coach Andrews!!!!!!!!!!!”

The lack of Chinese characters in Andrews’ name was a dead giveaway. The rest was all over but the shouting

“Roh will kick-box you lard butts back to Oakwood!!!!!!!!”

Fortunately, the declension for “Kick-box” was in the intro pages of the dictionary

“Coach Shaw and your team will disappear!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Goin’ for the gut. Couldn’t find the polite form of “Your”. Had to improvise.

“Your mother drives a rickshaw!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Boy, that’ll demoralize the competition


Oooooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back with Match Game ’19, here to get the Cultural Revolution on its knees. You have the floor, Gene

Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Chow Mein was a Tagalog dialect in the country of ____________________.


I’m assuming you saw the physique of Charlie “Ruh” Roh (Gotta love ya, Chris Berman) the other day. Between then and now, he must have read one too many Richie Rich comic books, all the way to the Charles Atlas section and taken things to heart. Threatened by his stepdad to call Chet Baker, “Dad”, or Ruh Roh would dry up and blow away, the pumping iron and the sophomore team bus has apparently paid off. Now if he can just hang onto Mr. Potato Head, the workout will pay even more dividends.

But the more I ponder the issue, the more I realize THAT’S THE IDEA. Fumble a toy you could carry around the house with your eyes closed, thereby stretching the plot all the way to Thanksgiving, or beyond, if Gil’s Christmas Party isn’t in full swing. Where’s your sense of adventure. Personally, I like people who had nothing better to do than score touchdowns and win the game fumble the toy-OH, THAT’S A FOOTBALL-around and cuss the referee out in Mandarin Chinese. First time somebody got an unsportsmanlike flag when the ref couldn’t understand a word he said. Yeah, right, Thorpiverse, save Roh’s 8 TD, 465 yard performance until Hanukkah. Build some excitement for 3 months and climax it with Roh being Mayor of Milford For The Day or sit on Santa’s lap, the reader’s pick. I can see the logic.


“And Roh coughs up the ball and Macy is beating the tar out of him on the sidelines. Roh is countering with kick, box, punch while Macy is continuing with beat his ass, beat his ass, beat his ass. Looks like the coaches are separating them, finally, and this gives me an opportunity to go to a station break. This is Marty Moon for WDIG radio, a division of Lear Field Sports.”


“Folks, would you like to have a blast while buying your favorite liquor at your headquarters for liquor. Well, here’s your chance to enter the 6th Annual Frisbee Golf Classic held right here at Milford Beverage Warehouse.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp. And, boy, you oughta see the beaucoup entrants in this tournament lining up for a piece of history. The course will be challenging and the booze will be flowing. This year, we made some changes to make the course more exciting. It’s not much fun throwing a frisbee at a cardbaord cut-out of Chester Cheetah on a par 3, dog leg left by the Durango Tequila rack. Why not spice up the competitive juices and award a man a case of Bud if he can knock the jar of Planters out of Mr. Peanut’s hand? We’ll admit we also caught some flak because hitting the freezer door of Big Ass Bourbon Freezees on a par 5, straightaway was child’s play so we used the forklift to hoist the freezer up 3 stories. Try flippin’ your Whammo! at the Jack Daniel Slushees now. We also made sure that the men’s and women’s rest rooms are WELL-MARKED this year. No more surprises. The men should find the door for stall #3 on a par 5 dog leg right in the men’s room, no problem. Fortunately, the women only screamed twice last year. We didn’t have to involve the Milford Police.

And while you’re entering, check out these door busters. Miller High Life Genuine Draft, 18-pack, a steal at 24.99. And how ’bout Jim Beam Natural Smoke Fine Smelt Whiskey? We’ll only charge you what we would charge your family AND if you buy now, we’ll knock off another dollar AND you’ll get a free Top-flite 280x Frisbee, perfect for joining in the fun while gettin’ half-sloshed. Hey, you might win the Tournament plus get the prized for Most Stoked at the Stake. And don’t forget to buy plenty of Milford Vending Beer Nuts. At a price of 6.99/can, you can wash it down with a cold case of Coors, fresh out of the refrigeration unit we have in the back of the store for only 48.99/case. Sorry, we will not be able to use the refrigerator door as a frisbee target this year as the janitor will be buffering the concrete floor that night.

Goodness, come on in and fill out a form for this Tournament. We understand The Bucket is trying to plead their case for a liquor license by sponsoring a Sand Volleyball Tournament. Where are they going to get the sand? Mudlark Lake is cordoned off this weekend for that Aerosmith concert. If you really don’t care to know like I don’t, get a move on down here for fun, frisbees, and foam and leave your Happy Meal attitude at The Bucket. Tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.


All right, Gang, it’s all yours. Do you really want to know or care if Roh is going to ride the bench for the next 3 months from today’s gaffe in P3? I thought not.





“Your quarterback eats Bucket Chow Mein from the children’s menu!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Those lessons in Tibetan are paying off.

August 26, 2019

Practice Interrupted

Filed under: Coach Kaz, Coach Shaw, football, Gil Thorp, Steve Boone — nedryerson @ 5:33 am


It’s such a shame that the peaceful afternoon practice was interrupted. We could have had so much more practice and delved more deeply into the development of the Mudlarks depth chart.

I think that’s Steve Boone in the second panel, but we can’t see his arms because Gil is excitedly announcing the health status of the Finn family. Why is Gil so excited? Because he’s off the hook for serving greasy meat bombs during a hot practice. At least until Marjie is diagnosed with ptomaine poisoning.

August 20, 2019

Ida Bet Ida Tarbell That We’re In For Another Second String Sack Of Spuds But Idaho, Alaska.

Filed under: Coach Kaz, Coach Shaw, football, Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 2:49 am


Ida know, Gang. I’m borrowing this gremlin from The Family Circus because I really want to believe that Jeffy will emerge as the frontrunner at QB and get us deep into the Playdowns but when I see sores all over his body and Gil asks if he got them from bedwetting or illicit sex with Blondie and Jeffy responds, Ida know, I’m not encouraged that Billy, Dolly, Jeffy, Barfy, and PJ will rescue us from another substandard Thorpiverse tale. The last one, outside of a minuscule,  slightly inexplicable summer football scrimmage, had no sports to speak of, no Dolly shown how to use her putter so she can end the trash-talking from the Evil Triplets, the yin to My Three Sons’ yang, no Billy practicing eluding Barfy in the back yard so he can be a first-string running back, not a second-string box of Tuna Helper, no PJ to fast-forward in age progression so he can be 3 months old in May but 16 years in August and help Milford win the Football Summer League with the game-winning tackle. So he had to spear Dagwood Bumstead with his helmet. If the refs ask how did Dagwood snap his spine while jumping over the pile at the 1-yard line, PJ can always respond “Ida know”.

Recently, I rummaged through an average hefty book on what amounted to Literature 101 and along the way, I stumbled upon a romance novel tip sheet. Yeah, really, some guidelines that many romance novel publishing companys prefer you, as the romance novel writer, need to adhere to if you want to write that Great American Romance Classic.

All righty then, fair enough. Let’s sift through this since Gil, Kaz, and ol’ what’s his name(Ida know) are chit-chatting the summer away before we get to September and Days of Our Lives with the Pigskin kicks off the Season Premiere on the WDIG-TV channel.

First off, the Hero has to be installed ideally by the first chapter, DEFINITELY no later than the second chapter.

That would make sense. If Mimi is looking for her Knight in Shining Armor, we really don’t want to labor through 18 chapters before Gil comes in late from his 60-And-Over Bowling League at Milford Lanes. How many spares did Gil pick up during that time? Did she wind up in the arms of Smidgens to tide her over until Gil decided that running up the score against Milford Foundry’s team was no longer any fun after the 8th frame of the 14th game? I can see the publishers’ point, Mimi and Smidgens are awkward bedfellows on the Serta mattress. Better bring Gil in a lot sooner. He can always tell Coach Shaw to get a life and his own comic strip, not mooching off of someone else’s glory when they run over Oakwood in the second panel after squeaking by Tilden in the first panel.

Yeah, Gil most assuredly should arrive at Mimi’s house by the second chapter. No sense in Gil not exploring the wonders of romance like all males do in the incipient stages of the romance novel. You’re not doing any coaching anyway. Get your ass over to Mimi’s arms and at least give her a bear hug, Gil.

Now here’s where the plot begins to develop. And we are advised that themes concerning extortion, international intrigue or espionage, murder, violence, other butt-ugly concepts that ruin your taste for low-sodium buttered popcorn at the Milford Cineplex have no place in a romance novel.

Again, the thesis is a fair one. Thorpiverse scored a touchdown with a Berrill-era name, Chance Macy. Why lay an egg by inserting Hugo Drax on the practice field?

“There’s Mr. Macy running an end-around on Jaws. See that great harm is done to him. Lace his jock strap with cyanide.”

Gang, that’ll work in Moonraker: The Sequel but fizzles in the football plot. As long as we’re going to pull teeth creating a football plot with pointless dialogue and one-panel victory parades sandwiched around a soap opera that ruins the flavor of Stove-Top Stuffing in your turkey at Thanksgiving, why introduce Dr. No to the tackling dummies? He shows up about as much as Coach Shaw.

So when Gil recites a poem to Mimi at The Bucket expressing his love interest, let alone his voracity for sex based upon a key concept he read in Modern Smut that he bought at Milford 7-11

How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways

You have eyes like this avocado in my Bucket Garden Salad

Your smile washes away the misery that torments my soul

The Bucket Meat Loaf and Mashed Taters and your kisses both spice up our romantic inter-



Ever since I can remember, I’ve been coming to The Bucket in my BVD’s and ordering a Bucket Danish and Bucket Maxwell House. Now you gentlemen put down your guns before I use my Magnum and blow your asses off, my Bucket Scrambled Eggs are gettin’ old.

GO TO HELL, CALLAHAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOM!!!!!!!!!!BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE BLAM!!!!!!!!! STILL MORE BLAM!!!!!!!!

As the remaining thug hold his water pistol to Tiki’s head

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

Well, the thug drops the gun, justice is thankfully served, but, Gang, the publishers score on this one. Exhibit A that violence and romance don’t mix in an award-winning Harlequin romance. Ship Callahan and Drax to the Louis L’Amour section and let ’em engage in Last Man Standing tactics. Keep the kissing and Elizabeth Barrett Browning poetry well-preserved in new wineskins.


It’s time to playyyyyyyyyyyy NAME THAT NATIONALITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Contestestants guess correctly that Kato wasn’t from East Germany and win a tour of the studio where Green Hornet was shot plus cash by the bucket!!!!!!!!!!! And now, here’s your host, a man who swears he’s not a citizen of the Lapp region…..Wink!!!!!!!!!!! Martinnnnnnnnndale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so I’m being a bit of a smartass trying desperately to pinpoint where Mr. Roh is from. Safe to say he didn’t wander out of Lulu’s bed from the corn patch on Hee Haw. So WHERE IS HE FROM???????

And if attempting to locate a guy’s whereabouts is not a lot of fun and games-really, didn’t we go through this with Tiki last year (“There he is with the Spanish Inquisition, hiding behind the motorboat”…”NOBODY EXPECTS THE…”) and THIS YEAR TOO at the expense of the world of sports, the raison d’etre of Thorpiverse?-we get subjected to Coach Shaw’s new look. He is no longer Bob Vila, hosting a show on how to refurbish the pool room and throw out the old pool table with all the scratches and chewed through 8-balls and cue balls by all the resident mice and convert it into a small chapel, complete with offering plates and hymnals (“You’ll be the envy of the neighborhood when you lay a few bars on that Wurly, singing ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus”) , when he’s not emceeing Mudlark Lake Bass Fishing Tournaments in December on the Outdoor Channel (“Gil, my man, hold on to the rod!!!!!!!!!! Whew, he’s bigger than Andre the Giant!!!!!!!”) . No, Coach Shaw went to the makeup room and Pond’s Cold Creamed his way into Che Guevara. La Revolucion hijo exito grande, Fidel!!!!!!!!!!!

“Thanks, Shaw, but we’ll have bigger success if Fidel can convince me to hang onto the football on a Statue of Liberty.”

So anyway, Che is Cuban who speaks Spanish when he’s not cameoing as the football coach and leads revolutions on the weekend. Busy schedule.

STILL, who is Charlie Roh? Did he climb over the wall at the 38th parallel and seek asylum in Seoul so that he could cross over the Pacific in a rowboat so that he could show his shake-and-bake moves to Gilberto?  Ida know, some people will escape oppressive Communist regimes to be a halfback, I reckon.

Or is he a Maoist? He is distributing Little Red Books by pretending he wants a spot on the Mudlark Football team. Try him at tight end as long he as he is implementing Marxian subterfuge. Milford needs to keep its offense honest.

Wait, maybe he’s Japanese. His grandfather bombed Pearl Harbor and has hidden on Wake Island and shared a tree house with Tiki on a coconut tree until the coast was clear. But how many Japanese children in Osaka are named Charlie? There’s a Grandpa Jones in Nagasaki? Lulu? The jury is still out on this matter.

Can’t be Eskimo or Hawaiian, unless Roh is short for Hulumakolotekaroh, a name you’d find for a street sign in Pearl City. Honolulu City Council wanted the name but, as seen, it was taken by PC. And Roh isn’t Aleut or Inuit enough to justify any roots in Alaska or Yukon Territory.

Which can only mean we will spend the next 6 weeks in language lab and leave the football to The Family Circus in a pickup game in the street. They’ll be playing touch-football-below-the-waist with Wally and The Beaver. But Ida know.


If ya stage a romance with yore cousin who is modeled after one of ’em Harley-quin classics and makes the cutoff of 28 years old, young fer a heroin-e, even though she’s ugly as sin and has sailor’s chest hair and one molar on her back side of her mouth which helps her chew Wrigley’s and M & M’s, if nuthin’ else, an’ a tattoo of a Valentine on both cheeks of her rear end, ya might be a redneck.


Then there’s the heroine herself. This is no time for Dr. Pearl and her friends from the Gilded Age. Ya gotta keep the age bracket between 19 and 28. And she can be smart but no Harvard Ph.D’s here. If you feel you must use Dr. Pearl or one of her prune -faced friends, she wasn’t in the same graduating class with John Quincy Adams. I concede that she doesn’t look professional in a graduating gown sitting next to Daniel Boone so you’re gonna have to find your own happy medium. Alexander Hamilton or any flunky who took dictation on The Federalist Papers will work.

And if our heroine is not on the same intelligence persona as The Pudd’nhead Tales, it would only stand to reason she is not a manual laborer. She must be a teacher, interior designer, travel agent, etc. Do NOT let Dr. Pearl go down in the trenches and dig ditches with the rest of the Confederate troops. She does not play go-fer for Stonewall Jackson’s coffee. Being Charlie Roh’s limo driver on the way to football practice is gauche with a capital G. Let Charlie steer his own limo out of Nagasaki. Go Greyhound and leave the driving to some struggling Maoist.


And while Che is discussing Charlie Roh the Punjab’s fate, I think I have his message deciphered. I have always loved it when Thorpiverse tries to sound stately and impressive only to realize the conversation is crash-landing in the gutter somewhere.

I am CONFIDENT Coach Che Shaw is saying that if Sahib is not the man at (I think) halfback, he has the junior varsity team to fall back on. But the way ol’ Havana Cigar is putting it, well, “…if he winds up in the lower rung of the Caste System and cannot eat anything unclean and lives the life of a second-class citizen who will sleep in the boiler room of the Flemings’ garage, well, at least a few TD runs and a couple of Ickey Shuffles will elevate him to the Brahmins.” Playing football has its advantages.


In order for your romance novel to be a hit, you MUST have The Other Man and The Other Woman. These characters fill in the gaps and spice up the Romance concept. Be careful here. Don’t have Mimi falling in love with the sanitation engineer for Milford Disposal. Yeah, it’s kinda sexy for a guy to ride a garbage truck around Milford only to go to Mimi’s in the evening and make passionate love while Gil is at The Lions Club board meeting. Gil returning the favor with a woman who rides power mowers and mows down the grass at all the parks around town while Mimi is at the Umpire Rules Clinic does indeed arouse the beast in some people but Gil coming to his senses and asseverating in Chapter 28 that he is through dating menial workers who frequent Temporary Job facilities doesn’t even come close to maximizing the ethereal experience called Love. Gotta make her lawyer or a manager of the Cubs if Gil is to realize the error of his ways and return to Mimi while she’s watching “Dallas”.


“Well, that just about wraps up this preview. Charlie Roh is a cinch to start at quarterback for the nation of Bhutan. We’ll be back for some final words after this. This is Marjie Ducey for WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”


“Folks, are you tired of paying high prices on all your grocery items, even the store brands? Come on, admit it, you’re like me, you hate using your Visa Gold when your purchasing Cocoa Puffs. Consolidating your debt to be able to buy Sugar Pops with more regularity can be a strain on the budget.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse. When those wussies can’t handle the heat on the field, I go to the kitchen and take advantage of deals only a mother could love. The Warehouse cut a deal with Milford Farm Market and passed the savings on to you.

Check out these door-busters. For every purchase of a 12-pack of Bud Lite, you can get half off Pussy Pops, the store-brand cereal of Milford Kroger. Or you can get Trashy Tarts instead of the Kellogg’s brand and still have gas money on the way home. Why buy a name when you can get booze and a bargain, all in the same bag, paper or plastic?

Want something a little stronger? How ’bout Jim Beam and a 3-pound bag of gala apples that won’t bounce the check? And if you’re not an apple man, try Cutie oranges in the 4-pound bag or 5 mangoes in the same deal. Peeling a banana and downing a Jim and listening to Sammy Sosa send one over Waveland Avenue, hoo-eee,that’s exciting. And all you need is a chaser, not for the bananas, you understand. Hey, whatever yanks your crank.

But if are a whiner, then Martini & Rossi and the Milford Mart store brand pinto beans makes a deadly combo. You don’t have to eat Bush’s Best and down a white wine to clear out the crowd at the picnic table. Yup, you can cleanse your stomach and indulge in a slice of The Good Life. Who says ya gotta eat Trix while you imbibe merlot?

Come to Milford Beverage Warehouse and check out other deals this week. The next time the wife gives you the “Honey-do” list and ya gotta shop for milk and eggs and bread, well, this time, you can walk out with Wonder Bread or Morningstar Farms Scrambled Eggs in one hand and a case of Falls City in the other. Isn’t life grand? Come to Milford Beverage Warehouse where you can have your Sterling’s Draft and drink it too.”


Gang, comment away. I’d bail out too if the Stupidity Index was around 85. It’s a heat wave when it approaches triple figures.


Interesting how the romantic novel tip sheet points out that there is rarely love-making before marriage.

In other words, Gil and Mimi were never in the janitor’s closet before a basketball game. They could withstand their urges and coach the team to victory. Hard to work the refs when the kids see Gil and Mimi zipping their pants coming out of the faculty bathroom. Yeah, I agree, ya gotta keep certain things on the level.

It also mentioned that the venue should be something exotic or exciting like New York or Rio or Paris.

Gil and Mimi exuding romance while Cupid is shooting arrow after arrow at the girl’s gym is a thing of the past. Milford is a great town but hardly a place for exciting romance novels on the drug store shelf. Better stick with Rio.

But Idaho. Alaska.





August 19, 2019

The Kid Looks Promising, Check His Mailing Address

Filed under: Coach Shaw, football, Gil Thorp — nedryerson @ 5:51 am


I guess this means we’re done with our summer dalliance with HVB, Jaquan, Tiki, Ed, Chet and Carol. It’s time to move on to….

Football practice. Let’s watch unknown Mudlarks do football things while the coaching staff frets about the team’s prospects. Gil and Coach Shaw’s spirits are lifted by a running back making an evasive move.

The default attitude for Gil and Co. is to expect the teams to stink it up and be surprised if any players show signs of excellence. Then when they feel guilty about not taking any measures to change the team’s makeup, they tinker around with long snappers and install gimmicky offenses.

September 5, 2018

In the Opener, I’ll Take the Mudlarks and 8 1/2


Man, the last thing I want to read in Gil Thorp is Kaz talking about Kelly’s sexual proclivities.  Oh, wait, he said Fellini. Never mind.

Does an awkward fist bump qualify as a “High Five Fail”?  Today, I’m calling that it does.

Quick cut to the practice field and there’s Marjie with her canister of pepper spray. Mouseketeer Roll Call will begin tomorrow and Joe Bolek will get namechecked along with a few other of Rubin’s friends.  Something tells me Bolek will flop as a ballplayer, or suffer a season-ending injury, and replace Kaz as the “film guru” on the Mudlark coaching staff.  Then he can tell Gil what kind of wacky leather-helmet era formation he can spring on the Valley Conference to make up for the usual fundamental shortcomings that plague the Milford football program.

Hold up: is that Marty standing next to Gil and Marjie?  Looks like he’s still taking hits from that tall can of STFU Gil gave him at the end of basketball season.  Let’s see how long that lasts.

September 4, 2018

Watching Milford Football From TV Land

Filed under: Coach Kaz, Coach Shaw, Gil Thorp, hideous scar faces — tdrewhardin @ 4:51 pm





Sent forth on a quest from TV Land

Bringing truth and justice to the landdddddddd

It’s Milkmannnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!


Milkman valiantly comes through the back door, past his arch-nemesis, the Coke machine

Gil sitting dejectedly in front of a pile of Miller Lite cans at the MCC

“Why the long face, Coach Thorp?”

“Oh, the golf plot’s over and I never got to see who won. I was so busy promoting it and giving tons of advice, then I got carried away with my drinking. And now, I’ll never get to enjoy the fruits of my labor.”

“Well, Coach, even though the plot stunk out a rhino’s butt and you needed heavy duty Pampers on that bad boy to stanch the stink, take comfort that the plot was as predictable as the sun rising in the east and that those losers who cheated and couldn’t golf moron status on the IQ meter got what’s coming to them. They had to call a rollback tow truck to haul off the trophy for our heroes.”

“Good deal!!!!!!!!!!!! Wilson and Tony deserve it. What happened to those cheats?”

“They were guillotined in the Milford Public Square at the crack of dawn this morning as part of a purge to eliminate bad boys who push bad plots WAY past the breaking point. “Only ‘Hi, Honey, I’m Home!!!!’ pushed the envelope any further but they were out of Milford’s jurisdiction and the courts could do nothing. I gave them a bottle of skim milk, they smoked their last Winstons, then the priests read their Last Rites. They left the earth in style.”

“What about Mimi? I forgot all about her.”

“Well,  she almost ran off with Gilligan but the Skipper hauled him back due to mutiny and so you get a reprieve. I say a cold bottle of milk on the house plus another quick snort from the Milford Men’s Clinic oughta do the trick.”

“Gee, thanks, Milkman.”

Too late, Milkman is off to help Moose with his batting average.

“That might take a whole case of 2%, Moose.”


Oh, and there’s Coach Shaw, fresh from his tour at the Milford Girls-a-Go Go Club. Does he ever COACH? I’m sure part of the job description is watching game film but you DO play football on the field. Why do I get the feeling that when Milford is playing Oakwood in a driving rain that Coach Shaw is on the computer playing  Electronic Arts XB1 Madden NFL 19.

“Who won?”

“The Raiders.”

“I mean between the Mudlarks and New Thayer!!!!!!!”


Really, I am scratching my noggin attempting the impossible, i.e., remembering when Coach Shaw taught a Mudlark how to block, how to tackle, the proper technique for putting on your jock strap, how to steady the tee so the football won’t fall off on the kickoff, how to do the Ickey Shuffle, the Sack Dance, The Fun Bunch Celebration, REALLY, WHAT IS COACH SHAW’S ROLE ON THE TEAM? What did Gil tell him in the interview process?

“Okay, Game Boy, we’ll start you off watching hours and hours of videotape, then we’ll progress up to a cup of Sanka after 18 hours, then we’ll bring you on the field after Tod Andrews leaves. After 40 years, you’ll know the playbook like the Gettysburg Address.”


“Gilligan, this plot is promulgating obfuscated shards of ambiguous and equivocal minutiae.”

“Yeah, Professor, and it’s pretty confusing too.”


“Don’t tell me how to do my job!!!!!!! I may not have liked getting suspended but I’m getting the hang of this bus thing. It’s like riding a bicycle.”

“But, Mr. Moon, you’re at the Milford Greyhound station.

Ashley Bishop, that one’s for you, My Friend. Keep tutoring the students to greater heights. Your ideas gave me a great deal of inspiration and keeps my blog a-goin’ Who knows, one of your students could take my place. Keep up the great work.


And then there’s the 3 blind mice in P1 which I’m presuming(tread lightly, T. Drew) is the warmup for the football plot. Now why aren’t they watching Nick at Nite like their next-door neighbors in P2? Hey, the family that promotes boring football plots together watch the same programs together. You’re not gonna pull one on us, Thorpiverse. If Coach Shaw, Thorp, Kaz, whosoever’s on the john in Gil’s toilette, have to watch Joe Friday Marathon Night on Tuesday, so do the other 3 people. We’re team around here. You can’t win if you’re not of like mind and purpose. We all stomach another episode of Petticoat Junction or call it a season.

Oh, and then we’re trying to get fancy bouncing around software lingo. Oooooooookkkkk, so Coach Kaz is not a dumb jock and he goes to the Milford Computer Palace when his eyes are not fixed on Monday Night Football. Yeah, there’s an association “Montana, hitting Rice on a slant, at the 45, the 40, the 30, the 20, the 10, TOUCHDOWN!!!!!!!!!! And the 49ers lead 24-21, over Dallas early in the 3rd quarter.”

“Shit, I knew I should have gotten more cartridges. Honey, I’ll be right back.”

“Would you get some milk and bread while you’re out?’

“Sure. Does the Milford 7-11 still close at 11?”

“No, I think they’re on extended hours ’til midnight.”


Nick at Nite presents


A young Dick York is in a typical domicile in Milford. He is getting ready for the Homecoming Game tonight as Milford takes on Goshen

“You want to look dignified, classy, and clean for tonight’s game. But you also want to kick some booty. In other words, you want to look SSSSWWWWWWEEEEEELLLLLL. All right. Let’s begin.

First, be sure your underwear has just come clean out of the dryer. No sense in the nose tackle smelling the stink from your fart stains when you’re in formation. And you don’t want that static cling on your butt(as our young York double-checks his derriere).

Then, take a shower, making sure you use plenty of soap. It’s also a good idea to practice blocking by burying your shoulders against the tile wall(young York with his mouthguard in place, banging the wet walls, causing Dad down below, who’s reading the Milford Enquirer, to wonder what is going on).

Then, brush your teeth. You might lose half of them for tonight’s game, but no referee wants to pick up green teeth. There’s a 15-yard penalty for said offense.

Next, practice the pre-game handshake. You can practice with your dad, grandpa, your neighbor, the mailman, the meter man, the paper boy, your dog. It might not be a good idea to tell the paper boy ‘we’re going to run your ass over with a lawn mower’, but the other said personnage is perfectly acceptable(young York doing pre-game handshake with Lassie and Rin Tin Tin).

Then, practice your tackling. Use the front yard and practice with your girlfriend. When you get smacked a million times from the rejection of your advances, you’ll be ready to tackle The Refrigerator tonight(York displaying black eye and bruises all over his face.)

Oh, you also need to practice running with the football. You’ll have to go to Milford Wal-Mart to shoplift one. You’ll need speed and agility and a good lawyer for this one but if it gets you that late game-winning TD, it was worth a night in jail, plus the fees Dad has to pay the bail bondsman(young York running past the 80-year-old door greeter who’s trying to stop him).

FINALLY, eat a good hearty meal. You can’t play football on an empty stomach. Eat plenty of vegetables and a good steak for the energy you’ll need tonight(young York eating such plus the Chef Boy-R-Dee he’s hiding under the table out of the can).

These things should make you a winner and still be a toady under Coach Thorp’s system. Isn’t that SWWWWEEEEEELLLLLLLL?(As young York rides off with Gil and his family in his Rolls Royce to return to their chateau)”


If ya picketed in front of TV Land’s headquarters and organized a sit-in at the same place because they didn’t have enough huntin’ and fishin’ presentations on Nick at Nite, ya might be a redneck.”











Neil Greenwell, I dedicate the last one to you. You do a great job at UPS and the company is a better store for your efforts. Your cheerful outlook on life is a blessing on me and I KNOW you make your co-workers better by your example. God Bless You, My Man.


“And that wraps up this Tournament. Why Coach T. wasn’t at his own Tournament is beyond anyone’s comprehension. We’ll be back for some final thoughts after this message. You’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”


Mimi gets ready for bed, a bed much smaller since Gil returned after his vacation at MCC(See previous post).

She has “It’s Your Thing” from The Isley Brothers blasting from the boom box. She’s gonna be a hot time in the ol’ town tonight.

Until Gil drops his pants. Then she forgets to turn on the oven.

“Gil, are you really up to this? Because that isn’t the case, otherwise.”

“Mimi, I’ve been waiting for this all week. It’s been a Hard Days’ Night and I was sleeping like a log in the MCC locker room.”

“There’s something else that went to sleep and it wasn’t your feet.”

“Mimi, I’ll just take some Nyquil and wait for The Moment. I get a lot more aroused when I’m sleepy and relaxed.”

“It appears something else OD’d on Sominex.”


“What could I say? I was a goner and so was my Significant Other and I don’t mean Mimi. We were both Down in the Hole. Then Wilson and Tony suggested Milford Men’s Clinic. Their fathers had a Lazurus for a weapon as well until they hit the Milford Mall and went down to the place next to Orange Julius. Slurping a Cherry-Lime Fizzy Freeze with an erection at the corner booth. Ummm, ummm, Life is good.”


Two Brits, ina record store one day, sizing up “Emotional Rescue” from The Rolling Stones

“Sooo ‘at’s wher’ they got th’ idea for ‘Doon in th’ ‘ole.”

“Blimey, eye deedn’t now ‘ey were Gil Thorp groupies, ya now?”


Gang, comment away. My Colts are gonna beat Coach Shaw’s team on Game Boy. Luck will be playing this time. Just watch.







Coach Kaz opens the door and catches Gil in his boxers again.

“Gil, is this chronic?”

Gil turns off school intercom

“Hell, Kaz, I couldn’t paddle a kiddie raft to shore with the oar I had yesterday. I couldn’t even get up for ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’. I had to boost my dosage and get this CD from Milford Music Exchange.”


November 7, 2017

Oh Goody. More Waiting.


Amazing. So, Gil’s brilliant strategy of implementing a new offense mid-season was based on, among other very dubious assumptions, the notion that it keys entirely off of one and only one player. That’s some coaching.

Panel 1: I had a job with a guy from the midwest who used ‘gents’ frequently. A recent development was that I had to work with/for him a lot more. I don’t work at that job anymore.

Panel 2: Should I recognize this guy? I sure should. He’s the dynamo who is driving the plot, Andre! Here he is as part of the crowd and here is where we confirm his name. We also see him here being kind of a jerk about supporting Little Ricky’s fledgling singing career. Way to go, Andre! That can-do spirit is exactly what the team will need while they are getting pounded into the turf at Tilden.

Panel 3: Speaking of jerks… Jeeze guys. Maybe save that talk for after practice. Are coaches Shaw and Boone the shadowy figures lurking in panel two? Guys! Gil and Andre can totally hear you.

Bonus Question: What is the purpose of that card Steve is holding? I checked the color version of the strip which shows that it’s a white, blank card.

Bonus Bonus Question: Speaking of, by what means is Steve’s towel suspended?

October 16, 2017

No Time For Duck Jokes


Oh, Uncle Gary. You’re unrelenting in your disdain of football. Don’t let the Millard West Wildcats hear your dismissive jabs, or they’ll drive up(?) from Omaha, Nebraska show you what it’s like! Sit over there with your coffee cup and your barbs, we’ve got other things of import to untangle here today.

What the hell? Coach Kaz went and got a black/blue dye job? (Okay, so this is why I used the color strip today. I kind of feel like colorist mistakes are maybe the easiest and most painfully obvious things to snark on, but on some most Mondays, I’ll take just about anything I can get.) Well, Kaz, what can we say? It looks great on you. Combined with the backwards clergy collar/black tee, it’s a bold new look for you. I guess the rest of the coaching brain trust (Coach Shaw! Steve Boone! Gilbot 3000!) is too absorbed in game video to take in your bold new choices. I predict Kaz will go and rinse that color out of his hair in time for his next appearance.

So we began with a goateed a-hole and now we end with the OG goateed a-hole, Marty Moon. Marty is doing his usual, the journalistic equivalent of stepping on a gardening rake. He lobs a presumptive question at Gil. In this cliffhanger style presentation, Gil gets a whole day to formulate a snarky and insultingly dismissive answer.

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