This Week in Milford

April 22, 2018

Vaya con carne, Martín Luna


This has to have gone down as the Gil Thorp arc with the least amount of actual sports action ever. It also has to be near the top of arcs requiring the greatest suspension of disbelief. On top of all we’ve had to choke down around Marty, Pirate Boy and the Milford Pirate Network (does one station constitute a network?), now we’re supposed to believe that WDIG has at least three studios? Couldn’t at least one of them held Marty’s substitute, re-creating the basketball games Ronald Reagan style while Marty was suspended?

Marty played his traditional role of designated heel, between making light of the Padillas’ life situation, the gratuitous Mexican food references (intended to woo a potential sponsor but interpreted as “Puerto Ricans/Mexicans are all alike and their cultures all the same”) and the mispronunciation/pissy over-pronunciation in response to criticism. But really, Gil doesn’t come off as much less of a schmuck either. True, he couldn’t have anticipated the tack the MPN took on covering Milford hoops – nor Marty’s blue response to them – but he did in effect goad them on to goad Marty on. His ham-handed efforts at negotiation showed how little he thinks of Milford girls’ basketball and required us to connect the dots and assume Marty’s suspension would turn into termination if Marty didn’t accede.

Finally, Gil’s little dig at Marty in the last panel (yet another in which characters depart via a doorway), meant to remind Marty of the Boricua culture of which he is so ignorant, comes off a bit dickish as well. I’ll admit I like the idea of Marty as Scooby-Doo villain, but wouldn’t that mean he’s actually somebody else under a rubber mask? My money’s on Dr. Pearl.


April 2, 2018

Let The Expletives Fly

Filed under: Exploding Eyeball Syndrome, Just plain sad, Marty Moon — nedryerson @ 6:09 am


Those brave pirates of the MPN have engineered the downfall of Marty Moon. (Maybe) It was not by shining a light on Moon’s insensitivity while furthering awareness of the plight of our fellow citizens in Puerto Rico. The MPN just acted like idiots and nobody stopped them.

Are we supposed to take glee in Marty messing up? Marty’s sad face is truly special, but the manner in which we arrived at it is so unsatisfying and dumb that it diminishes my enjoyment.

Say, I don’t suppose Marty’s WDIG feed is going out with a tape delay. Maybe a producer back at the studio is ready to hit the “dump button” if something objectionable is picked up on mike. IF there is such a system and IF the producer was actually paying attention, maybe this isn’t really such a big deal.

March 17, 2018

Look Out Marty, ‘Cause I’m Using Technology


As has been pointed out in yesterday’s comments, this arc is becoming less and less about two Puerto Rican high schoolers’ adjustments to life post-Hurricane Maria and more and more about how the people around them react to them.  Ernie from My Three Sons Duncan and Karina are getting more character development than Jorge and Paloma at this point. Duncan is suddenly becoming a broadcaster and Karina is growing a ginormous man hand. I’m calling recycled art on that paw.

Meanwhile Marty finally gets confronted by someone at WDIG other than the sales guy. Is he the station manager or somebody else in a position of authority over Marty? If so, why is he just now calling Marty out about his mouth when he’s been doing his derogatory schtick for several games now? And why would Marty assume (a) he has any listeners (b) those listeners love him (c) that objecting to his schtick is somehow “P.C.”?

I still maintain that if Milford was anything other than 1959 with cell phones, Marty would have been buried in a tweetstorm as soon as he overpronounced Jorge’s name during the game after Karina and Duncan visited him and would’ve been at least suspended and more than likely fired.  Whatevs; I’m looking forward to the first installment of Mudlark hoops starring Duncan Levin, livestreamed over tin cans and sponsored by Los Morenos (who boycotted WDIG).

I had to scrap my first draft title for today’s post because I used it once already. Here’s the inspiration for its replacement:

March 12, 2018

Is That A Grundig?


Happy Monday! We have sprung forward and it seems waaay to early to be doing this. Thankfully there is much to chew on in today’s installment, so let’s jump in!

Yes, indeed, Marty Moon just walked off the job when the kids turned up the heat. This prompts SO many questions about WDIG’s sports broadcasts as well as the nature of Marty’s job. Those kids were getting on Marty’s nerves so he just strolls out? Did the station have something ready to throw on the air? (An old episode of the Joe Morgan Show?*) Will Marty face any heat from management about walking away from an assignment? (“Well, we can’t really fire him. We don’t actually pay him to do the games.”)

So, Marty takes to the airwaves from his studio safe space to rant about “a few ingrates and malcontents, fueled by Gil Thorp’s indifference”. Oh, that is so delicious. Actually, I think that quote should probably be included on the masthead of This Week In Milford!

The icing on the cake is that Gil is actually at home, listening to Marty, live on the radio! Gil, has it come to this? This is your Saturday? If Marty finds out that you’re actually listening to him, you know you’re gonna unleash the beast! Choose your words carefully when Marty comes to see you on Monday. (Is this Monday, I forget.)

Speaking of radio, I spent more than a few minutes trying to identify Gil’s radio, or at least something close enough that might have served as Whigham’s inspiration. I’m kind of fascinated by radios and the evolution of design. I didn’t really find a good match. Do any of you other malcontents have any ideas?

*The absolute worse thing I’ve ever heard on sports radio. I actually reached out the program director of a local sports radio station and begged him to put anything else on.

March 10, 2018

Goodnight Moon*


Goodnight room
Goodnight Moon
Goodnight fans shouting over the Moon
Goodnight light
And the racist goon
Goodnight game
“Goodnight”? Lame
Goodnight Padillas
Oh, goodnight? See ya!
Goodnight job
And goodnight slob
Goodnight little house
And goodnight souse
Goodnight Gil
And goodnight (W)DIG
Goodnight nobody
Goodnight pig
And goodnight to your shot at another gig
Goodnight scars
Goodnight hair
Good night Mudlarks everywhere

*apologies M. W. Brown



March 8, 2018

Join In the Chant


I love it that Paloma’s all up in Marty’s grill; too bad Exploding Spittle Syndrome is not a thing. Still I’m a little disappointed in the chant. “Muzzle Marty” is a four-syllable phrase. Why aren’t the protesters using the “clap clap clap-clap-clap” cadence? You’d think they know it since “Mudlarks” is a two-syllable nickname.

Raised fists make for good visuals but they can’t be heard on the radio. Maybe since they’re not in the cheap seats they think they can just rattle their jewelry.

What four-syllable chant would you have the Milford crowd do? Keeping it clean so WDIG doesn’t pull the plug (although Marty’s think-skinned ass may just do it for spite, the station manager may think any ratings are good ratings). “Fuck you Marty” or “Un pendejo” are right out.

Inspiration for today’s post title:


March 6, 2018

Go Ahead, You Can Chant All You Want, But You Got No Philosophy.

Filed under: Exploding Eyeball Syndrome, Marty Moon — tdrewhardin @ 5:31 am


God, I gotta quit listening to Ben Folds Five when I’m doing my post. Not a way to mix business with pleasure.

And folks, we are pulling out all the stops here as we have a battle royale on our hands. Poor Marty is left clueless for a riposte. Well, that’s what Thorpiverse wants you to THINK anyway. T-verse is just hoping you stay with the plot that has not surprisingly offered little drama from the sports angle anyway and wait to see if Marty winds up diving in the same radioactive pool of water that befell Dr. No when the latter tried to tangle with James Bond.  But when has ANYBODY seen Marty throw in the towel, let alone drown in Dr. No’s cesspool? And Gil couldn’t manage, unlike James Bond, to throw Marty out the same airplane window that sucked poor ol’ Goldfinger and sent him crash-landing belly-up 10,000 feet below. If ANYONE, and that goes for you too, Paloma and Ernie, thinks that they’re going to hear that ugly grating Model T sound that we all heard on Dr. No’s island after James Bond turned the steering wheel the wrong way and all the Dr. No myrmidons are going to run every which way in Milford’s gym after Marty called Jorge a “Jose Cuervo on the boards”,  I got farm land to sell you, cheap, right behind McShane’s Hardware.  They might run like hell towards the ocean to escape but Marty and Milford’s gym should be intact by the time M picks up Mr. Bond.

The Gang of 15 enter Milford’s gym after paying for their tickets.

“How many?”

“15, please.”

“Protesting or non-Protesting?”

“Oh, definitely Protesting.”

“Right this way. We have a section right behind the WDIG table. Should have no problem with the reception picking up your favorite grievances. Enjoy the show.”

“And some Japanese man has entered the gym. Looks like he could use the Ultra Slim-Fast plan. WHOOAAAA, he just flung his top hat at me. Thank God, the old reflexes are kickin’ in after 60 years on the job. Unfortunately, can’t say the same for Coach Kaz. Luhm’s coming in now to sweep up his head. The towel boys are wiping off all the blood on the court. The refs are enforcing the no-blood rule.”

And aside from the problem I’m having trying to link up all the balloon comments to the speakers (sheesh, T-verse, I’d rather pick up Kaz’s head), who you gonna replace Marty with should you succeed in running him out of the gym with this scathing tirade? Mrs. Aardvark? She’s too busy watching her son inbound the ball. Not that Marty is going to take it and like it. Marty is not going to be written out of the script, Paloma and company. Protest all you want. You can shout from the top of your lungs MARTY IS A WIENIE!!!!!!!!! or PEACHES DESERVED BETTER!!!!!!!!! and when the smoke has cleared, Marty will still be spewing his venom for generations to come. In fact, I can see this 40-50 years down the road when Paloma has grandkids:

“Where are you going, in multiples of 5, Mariposa?”

“Down to Barry Bader Field to air our complaints. Milford is taking on Oakwood and we’re going to cram into Marty’s little hot dog stand and give him a piece of our mind!!!!!!!He can’t call HOR-hay III a ‘Speedy Gonzales around the base paths’ and get away with it!!!!!!! He’ll be in the unemployment line Monday morning if we have anything to do with it or my name doesn’t mean ‘butterfly’!!!!!!!”

“Well, tell Marty, Paloma says ‘hi’. And I changed jobs at the phone company.”

If ya got a cheering section that ya drag along at yore Industrial League softball game on Wednesday night at the Milford Sports Complex and ya enjoy downin’ a Bud Lite in the dugout after ya flew like a Mexican jumping bean on an inside-the-park job and yore cheering section chants in Latin American Spanish “Flies like a mariposa and stings like an abeja,” ya might be a redneck.

Heard midway through the 3rd quarter on WDIG:

“…and HOR-hay signals time out as Coach T wants to talk things over after Valley Tech has gone in a 10-3 run. And with-


-3:25 to go in the 3rd Quarter, it’s Milford, 53, Valley Tech, 51. You’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh, Marty, surely you have other things to do besides rip athletes to shreds here at WDIG studios. And Anonymous Calculus Dude is in Guatemala on a sales run. Why don’t you let me show you a good time?”

“Sorry, Miss Moneypenny, this time the kids are out to hurt somebody and I got to take action. Besides, Peaches and I are spending a weekend at the New Thayer Hilton.”

I will be doing a Women’s History segment once a week. Today’s entry is none other than my own mother. Before I get run out of Milford on nepotism charges, let me say that Jacqueline Lee Hardin defied a lot of odds when she took the hammer and nail and rebuilt the inner city through Habitat for Humanity. She unfortunately played go-for until one day when a worker didn’t show up, my mother stepped to the plate and hammered the day away. She was one of them by day’s end. Two newspaper articles liberally singing her praises stamped their seal of approval on her contributions. Mom, you’ve come a long way from the day when you went to the hardware store to ask whether a project required a 9/16 or a 3/8 socket and the hardware clerk asked “What does your husband think?” I love you and salute you, Mom.

Gang, if you need me, I’ll be under the bleachers. Oddjob isn’t getting MY HEAD on a silver platter.

February 21, 2018

So, Did Marty Roll His Double RR’s?


Panel One: That elbow from Oakwood #5 coulda just as easily been called the other way.

Panel Two: Marty is a real jerk.

Panel Three: I mean, seriously, just a true jerk.

Minus points: Nice mug, Karina. Did you buy it online using your |||| brand laptop?

Older Posts »

Create a free website or blog at