This Week in Milford

November 16, 2017

Football Season! Music Season!

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Ricky Ricardo Soto: Would you like me to sing now or wait till football season’s over?

Uncle Gary: Sing now! Sing now!

RRS: You keep outta this! You don’t have to sing now!

UG: I do so have to sing now!

I demand that you let me sing now!

Let’s run through that again.

RRS: Okay. Would you like me to sing now or wait till football season’s over.

UG: Sing now. Sing now.

RRS: You keep outta this. You don’t have to sing now.

UG: Ha! That’s it! Hold it right there!

<Pronoun trouble.>

It’s not: “*You* don’t have to sing now.” It’s: “*I* don’t have to sing now.”  Well, I say I do have to sing now!

TWIM bloggers and readers: So shoot me now!

***

Andre “Hands of Stone” Ruffin, erstwhile backup tight end, has a name ripped from the police blotter.

Recycled art tag: Casa del Soto.

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November 2, 2017

I Was Hoping It Was His Gary, Too

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Milford was up 10 on Madison day before yesterday. Did they score to make it closer? We’ll never know. We’ll miss out on a trip to The Bucket too since we have to ride home with Rick Soto’s mom and Uncle Astroturf. Fill in the blank: what was Uncle Gary’s glad it’s not his? Talk amongst yourselves.

Rick will get his big chance to sing the national anthem at next week’s game since he can’t play in it. (Nice cameo today by the late Bernie Casey as Rick’s real doctor.) Hopefully it’s a home game or else Gil, Dr. Pearl & co. will have to go through more machinations to help Rick pull that off. Such suspense!

October 21, 2017

They’ve Got Prairie Style Windows in Omaha, Too?

October 20, 2017

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I got the spirit (Hey!)

It’s in my locker (Hey!)

A bottle of vodka (Hey!)

And if we win (Hey!)

We get some gin (Hey!)

And if we lose (What?)

We get no booze (Aww!)

And if we tie… (Yeah?)

We still get high! (Woo!)

— an actual chant by teenchy’s high school football team, long ago and far away

Uncle Gary just doesn’t get it. Win or lose, shared goals and camaraderie are two important lessons that can be learned from playing team sports.  In recognizing that, the teenaged Rick Soto shows himself to be far more mentally mature than his cardboard cutout shyster of an uncle. We haven’t seen team player behavior like that from a Milford athlete since True Standish, The Golden Child, let Jarrod Hale score the winning touchdown in the state championship game. So ease up, Uncle Gary; Rick might just be lining up his future roadies for when he hits it big on the Midwestern fraternal organization open mike night tour. He hasn’t even been concussed yet.  That dubious honor looks like it might fall to…

October 21, 2017

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… Mike “Don’t call Me Castle” Fillllllllllllion. Well here’s a surprise – a strip featuring neither Rick Soto nor Uncle Gary but Gil flexing his old school jockocrat muscles (and his right arm with two elbows) by pulling his QB out of this unknown teacher’s class.  I can see Filion’s eyes clouding up already – oh, wait, they’re just exploding.  Making a kid nervous by yanking him out of class then telling him to relax is just the kind of mind game you’d expect from a coach whose one trick on the season is putting a linebacker in at fullback. Wonder if Gil’s gonna tell Mike that Pelwecki’s getting some reps under center next week?

October 5, 2017

Soto’s Escort Service

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Three days to finish one play, and the first game will be finished by the end of the first week of October. Something tells me at least three games will be told and not shown in a single strip in about a week or two. Rick Soto’s exploding head tips us to his imminent concussion, so while we’re waiting for that reveal let’s focus on the little details:

(1) Whigham’s shout-out to his mom via Milford’s and Oakwood’s glow-in-the-dark helmet decals, ’cause working it into a shirt collar like they did at Wendy’s just isn’t as dramatic.

(b) Again with the confusing numbers: Filllllllllion has been shown as #9 to date but the guy carrying the big croissant behind Soto is wearing a double-digit number. The Oakwood player Soto’s blocking is pretty big to be wearing #14, don’tchathink? Maybe he’s a former lineman who wants to be a ball carrier, too. Maybe he’s the son of The Battleship Lorenzen.

(iii) Marty’s scar face is particularly nightmare-inducing today. The dried hooch crust in his beard is a nice touch, as are the slats in the lid of his crate. At least he trims his nose hair.

October 4, 2017

Open A Hole And/Or Go Over The Top!

Filed under: actual action, Exploding Eyeball Syndrome, football, Highlight reel — timbuys @ 10:14 am

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I infer from Nick’s acrobatics that, although Kevin tried to open a hole, he’s worn out from that carry for three yards and a cloud of dust and is no longer able to block effectively. Well done, Gil.

This, however, is immaterial as Nick is the real decoy. Indeed, it’s looking grim for Oakwood as, not only were they focused on the secret Pelwecki, now they are eyeball explodingly shocked by this additional dissimulation. Well done, Gil.

September 28, 2017

Tipped Off

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Nothing but action today as we get some blessed relief from wannabe agent-cum-hanger-on/wet blanket/harbinger of doom Uncle Gary.

When I see Oakwood’s big “O” on their helmets I’m reminded of the University of Oregon Ducks. Last season Oakwood had an interesting, unconventional helmet design going on so this registers as a downgrade. Then again, Oakwood may have a Phil Knight-like benefactor so that they can change uniforms every game if not every quarter. On the other hand Milford looks much the same as it has the past several seasons, with Whigham unable to draw a consistent block “M” without it looking a like a mimeographed ink blob. Not sure why they’re wearing white at home unless it’s a day game and Milford has become one of those hot-climate towns where the home team wears white to psych out their opponents.

Without knowing how Milford got its scores (another missed opportunity for name-dropping, Rubin!) we suddenly find them in a hole of their own making. Tipped pass or not, somehow the Oakwood defender got in front of the Milford intended receiver to make the exploding pick. Heather Burns should’ve been coaching that kid over the summer, too.

September 27, 2017

I Often Pause Dramatically During My Internal Monologue, Why Do You Ask?

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Panel 1: Number 28 looks stunned as the football caroms off his sternum.

Panel 2: I’m gonna ignore whatever these idiots have to say as the weirdo in the foreground brings to mind my having to lecture my four year old that, it’s OK if you do it in private, but when you’re around other people you have to use a tissue. Why? Because it’s considered rude and we try to be polite, that’s why.

Panel 3: Cue the dastardly reveal. Not just a lawyer, but a future agent lawyer! Oh no, that’s the worst kind!

Minus point: WTH? I guess we’re confirmed for no bonfire this year. Perhaps the Milford FD still has the summer burn ban in effect.

Bonus question: What elements of Rick’s so far indeterminate act* would be most directly impacted by a seemingly inevitable concussion?

* I know it involves Mac the Knife, but does he sing it? Play it on Caribbean steal drums? Personally, I’m betting he has trained seals bark out the tune.

July 13, 2017

There’s No Veering in Baseball!

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Well that whole journalism thing was awkward, wasn’t it?  Made me feel stupid for thinking there might be some point to it.  Let’s get back to what this strip does best: putting Milford’s girls in the orbit of Milford’s boys. After all, boys won’t watch girls play unless they’re interested in one of the players but girls will watch the boys play just because, amirite?

So to wrap the spring* plot up we’re gonna see if Ryan has indeed practiced his anger management after he gets another bad call from a crappy Valley ump and his teammates flub away a lead on him.  Marty’s mom has told him to take out the trash, so he quickly makes the Mudlarks a Fielding Three and rolls a 14 for the Tilden batter.  As with most Gil Thorp arcs, all of this would come off as a lot less contrived if the plot had been better paced. Then again, the phrase “it’s a marathon, not a sprint” is probably wasted on someone who holds track and field in such contempt.

*Feels funny calling it that in the middle of July, doesn’t it?

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