It looks like we’re going to have to endure this game, or some facsimile of a game.
The players from Oakwood don’t want to be doing this any more than we do. They’re just closing their eyes and swinging. They still scored three runs. Let’s file this away for next spring and see if we revisit Jay Bhatia and his quest to be the staff ace.
Pelwecki’s launch angles are off a smidge. The coach from State U. has already forgotten his name.
Who are we kidding? It’s still all about Barry Bader, whose face says, “What about it, guys? All is forgiven, right? Right?”
Alright already with the glasses propped up on your forehead, Ma Bader. Have you had to read any print since you answered the door for Dafne, served brownies and sat down on the couch? Not that I can see. That’s just a minor gripe before moving on to the main issue…
What the hell is going on here? Why did Ma Bader invite Dafne over to have a front row seat for her Come To Jesus talk with Barry? She told Dafne she was there to “help me save my son”. How is Dafne supposed to help? Clearly Ma Bader needed to have this talk with Barry. Dafne’s article and Barry’s reaction did provide Ma with a “teachable moment”, but Dafne doesn’t have to shouldn’t be there. Boundaries, people!
It’s also clear that Ma Bader is in way over her head here. She’s calling her son damaged and attributing the damage to Del. I’d love to hear a reaction from an experienced family therapist on this line of conversation. It seems overly confrontational and judgmental. However, it is apparent that Ma Bader has suffered much too and in Del’s absence has only begun to come to terms with how to help Barry. They need professional help, not Dafne Dafonte.
Well that was anticlimactic. Given that (1) Barry has been treated like dirt by his teammates, his schoolmates, and his coaches ever since his father’s crash into Addison “Boo, But Not the Boo from To Kill A Mockingbird” Radley (b) no one, not even Counselor Dern, has suggested Barry get help or talk to someone except as a means to generate a lede, and (iii) Rubin has taken a ham-fisted approach to so many of his “ripped from the headlines” arcs only to end them in a flurry of tell-don’t-show moments, I fully expected today’s strip to feature Barry shooting up the halls of Milford High. Rubin could wipe out underdeveloped and name-dropped characters in one fell swoop and turn the summer arc into a month-long episode of A Very Special Gil Thorp. I even implied as much in my Thursday post.
Art snark aside: Dafne and Bestie Who Looks Like An Extra From Room 222 (not to say that Dafne herself doesn’t look the same from time to time) have each lost a chunky bracelet since yesterday. Dafne and Barry are a bit closer in height than they were previously.
Back on topic: Maybe l’affaire Bader et Dafonte will still erupt in violence. Maybe the adults in the teachers’ lounge will read the article and see it as the cry for help Barry has so desperately tried to make for the past two years. Maybe the Nats will stop free falling, turn their season around, claw their way into a playoff spot and finally win a postseason series for once. None of these things seems likely at the moment, and none of them are going to happen soon enough.
metapost: timbuys’ Thorp of July post had some of us drifting off in Costello/Lowe reverie and realizing that we may have been in the same room at the same time. Doubtless, then, the latest news from Mr. MacManus may have hit some of us like a ton of bricks. The news does seem positive, however, and I’m hopeful The Living Elvis will remain living for some time to come, which leads me to…
metapost 2: For the past couple of years I’ve been the Thursday and Saturday poster, a fact that always makes me think of a certain EC song. As such, I usually end up being the guy who gets to weigh in on an arc’s final strip. Not this time, however. I’m going to be traveling over the next two weeks, so one or more of my esteemed colleagues will get to see this train wreck into the station. Thanks for hanging in there with me today. I leave you with that certain song that almost always comes to mind when I enter the Thorpiverse.
I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about the actual mechanics of college recruiting or if sending letters through the mail is still the primary way for communicating with “recruits”.
What else does it say?
If your grades aren’t good enough to be admitted, walking on is going to be problematic.
If you think Gil Thorp doesn’t give a shit about baseball, wait until you get a load of The Colvin Way.
Do you have any relatives that live in Idaho? Out of state tuition at State U. is brutal!
Gil is probably standing right next to you, right? Say hi to that old reprobate for me!
Where’s Rick Scott or Heather Burns when you need them? Poor Coach Delano Colvin has suffered an horrific ankle sprain or worse (link is not for the squeamish). Gil may have run into Delano on the Mudlarks’ trip back from Bluffton earlier in the season. That might lead me to believe that “State U.” is the one in Raleigh; however, a GPA of “almost 3.5” looks like it won’t cut the mustard there, being a reach at best.
While Pelwecki gets called to the office over the intercom (instead of Gil having the message sent to Pelwecki’s next period teacher, as he is often wont to do) we get spirited back to the Trumpet office in what is essentially a tell, don’t show repeat of Thursday’s panel 3.
Meanwhile, in an assisted living facility in an unnamed town, Herk the Mauler watches old wrasslin’ highlights and wonders when his rematch with Beau Dandy is coming up. Here’s a wrasslin’ highlight from one of my all time favorite heels.
*and how many times have I relied on the “Orange Is the New Black” trope? Don’t ask.
Does anyone know how to lay the bases out at Valley Tech? The outside edge of the bag goes along the baseline with the rest of the bag in fair territory, not the inside of the bag with the rest in foul territory. Never mind that: does that field have no foul territory or what? I wonder how many kids hurt themselves chasing after foul balls and falling over that parapet in front of the dugout. No matter, visiting players shouldn’t swing from the dugout roof.
Valley Tech’s messed up ball field pales in comparison to today’s big reveal: Dafne Dafonte was the second driver! How else would she be going to prison and seeing Del? Oh wait, prisons aren’t co-ed? Never mind. My head spins with the crazy schemes Dafne could’ve cooked up to make this happen. Maybe she secretly lusted after True Standish, wanted Boo Radley killed off and, disguised as Shelly from Selasky’s Supper Club, got Del Bader drunk so he would cause death. Hey, it’s not that much more far-fetched than the idea of Del agreeing to speak to some nosy kid from his son’s high school’s newspaper in order to somehow clear his name.
Meanwhile, another Trumpet staffer, having picked up one of Holly Dobbs’ left-behind wigs, amuses herself with some newfound gadgetry. Photography/videography buffs, help me out please: isn’t she wearing a steadicam harness? Are those designed to work with 1960s-era film cameras like the one she’s holding?
metapost: Ned, Tim and the rest of the TWIM community have taken this blog to another level this week. Here’s hoping I can keep it up. Thanks to all for keeping this a going concern.
Short Bader got no reason
Short Bader got no reason
Short Bader got no reason
To live
He’s got little patience
And little mind
His little ego
Got a great big size
He’s got little fuse
You never gonna know
Just what’s gonna
Make him wanna go
Well, I don’t want no short tempers
Don’t want no short tempers
Don’t want no short tempers
‘Round here
Short Bader just shifts the blame On you and I
(He’s livin’ the lie) “Boo Radley was snippy Until the day she died”
(You can’t polish this turd)
Short Bader got nobody
Short Bader got nobody
Short Bader got nobody
For friends
Thinks second base is his and
He don’t wanna yield
You got to pick him up
To get him off the field
He got a little voice
Goin’ yap, yap, yap
All his teammates
Are sick of his crap
His little free library Has gotta be the best
He can’t give things any rest
Well, I don’t want no short Bader
Don’t want no short Bader
Don’t want no short Bader ‘Round here
Barry probably should’ve taken one of his mom’s Ativans before this interview.
Speaking of, did Ma Bader ever even come back with DD’s diet soda, er, ice water? The depictions of single moms in this strip, with the possible exception of Judge Hiatt,* are almost uniformly negative. What gives I wonder?
That said, I question why DD is leaning in in panel two and then throws BB a lifeline.
Bonus points:
P1: Rare double exploding eyeballs.
P2: Do the kids these days still use notebooks? Do the reporters?
P3: “Everyone thinks you’re a jerk. Do you think you’ve become more of a jerk?”
* As Billy points out Judge Hiatt is not actually single, which I think bolsters my point.
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