Let’s Hope Gil Doesn’t Bring In Social Services Again

We’ve been down this road before, a little over a year and a half ago to be exact. Nosy classmates stick their noses where they don’t belong, Gil gets wind and the next thing you know another Milford High kid’s getting his family busted up like…uh, well, another family that got busted up.  And what’s up with Andre and Movie Boy Weird Joe Bolek getting so chummy so quickly? (I thought Andre’s first word balloon had an extraneous comma.) Are they gonna turn into this year’s Ken Brown and Mike Granger?

Why should Gil know about Tiki’s excessive tardiness? Is there some unwritten rule that Milford athletes who are chronically late to school get kicked off the team, or suspended for the first half against a cupcake non-conference opponent, or something?  Gil suspended Barry Bader for getting ejected but made him travel with the team; maybe there’s some similar obscure punishment in Tiki’s future. (Sorry, I left this sentence unfinished last night.)

Stranger things have happened, so if this ends with a GoFundMe to replace Tiki’s beater Plymouth with something newer so he can get his sister to school on time, then I’m cool with it. Sorry to keep y’all waiting on today’s post.

 

 

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Sister Act

Thank goodness we don’t have to listen to Kaz pretend to be a film buff to get a kid to play football anymore. That was getting awkward.

Know what else is gonna get awkward real fast? The secondary plot about Tiki Jansen. Besides not being a star and having a ratty orphan car, we didn’t know much about him until last week, when we learned he has “a slow sister problem.”  Rubin left it to interpretation then that Tiki’s sister might have a hard time getting ready for school. Now he drops broad hints that fifth-grader Angela might not be in the regular Milford school system.

How is Rubin gonna tie all these loose ends together?  Maybe Joe Bolek gets together with Tiki and Angela and they watch films of Nate Kaeding together, I dunno. (Nah, that makes no sense; Kaeding was a placekicker, not a punter.)  I shudder to think how this strip is gonna handle IEPs, Least Restrictive Environments, developmental pediatricians and all the baggage that comes with them. On that bright note, Happy Saturday, TWIMers!

Kaz Has More Balls Than Joe…

… and that’s all I have to say about that.

Seriously, what kind of bullshit rationale is that for joining the team?  What can Kaz and Gil expect out of this kid Joe?  With such a short attention span, who’s to say Bolek won’t wander off just when the Mudlarks need him to punt a ball away? He can’t even be bothered to stick around to see the end of the game. (Here’s where I break the fourth wall for a moment to ask TWIM‘s unofficial SID billytheskink how many times we’ve been shown a Milford football game without knowing who won.)

I could be bothered to supply a rationale for Joe – for example, he’d seen enough of Milford’s bad, non-Sam Finn punting to know that the team needed him – but why should I come up with an excuse for him? He’s gonna need enough excuses for himself when his teammates stuff him in a locker for not coming out and busting his hump in practice from the beginning of the season.

I came here to snark on bad coaching, not to become a cineaste!

Kaz and Joe stood there and looked at each other in silence for five minutes?  That settles it: Kaz is not salaried faculty or staff but hourly contingent labor. In any universe even remotely based in reality a coach might have given a student 5 seconds – okay, 10 seconds if we’re being generous – to answer before telling them to get out of their office the hallway and go to their next period class, or catch a school bus, or whatever.

As with The Legend of Bagger Vance, I’m not going to rehash the plot of Rififi here. The Wikipedia entry for the film states that “[a]fter he was blacklisted from Hollywood, [Director Jules] Dassin found work in France where he was asked to direct Rififi. Despite his distaste for parts of the original novel, Dassin agreed to direct the film. He shot Rififi while working with a low budget, without a star cast, and with the production staff working for low wages.” Low budget? No stars? Staff working for low wages? We could be talking about the Mudlark football team and its coaching staff.

I’d be okay with the next 28 panels of this strip having no dialogue and just action. You?

 

metapost: Do any of you loyal readers read TWIM on a smartphone?  I compose it on a Dell laptop with AdBlock Plus installed, but usually read comments during the day on an Android phone. Often when I do, I get spammy popup ads telling “Dear Andriod User” that I have won something or other and which I cannot close or navigate away from without closing my browser.  If anyone else is having those problems, please comment (I mean, in addition to any snark) so we can get to the bottom of this. Thanks.

Thay You, Thay Me

Coquettish smiles from Gil?  A “WTF is this?” hand gesture from Kaz?  Towel-snapping incidents in the showers?  Oh yeah, Tiki Jansen’s fitting in, alright.  It’s probably too soon to apply the True Standish Principle to young Jansen but he’s sure to have an impact somewhere before long. His ex-teammates at New Thayer probably won’t be expecting the veer this time.  Maybe Gil will have him help implement Steve Owen’s old umbrella defense, but not until mid-season after the Mudlarks have had their ears pinned back a couple of times.

I just played the Pantheon of Mysterious Objects card on what looks like an outdoor executive office chair behind Kaz or maybe a blocking sled, in which case I’d have expected to see Steve Boone riding it. (edit: Then again, it may be an indoor office chair, with Kaz standing awkwardly in front of it. Thanks, Tim. Text and tags adjusted accordingly.)

 

Remember When Concussions Were A Big Deal In Milford?

Here’s the exposition strip we’ve all come to know and love.  To say Gil isn’t up for this is an understatement, as evidenced by his half-hearted attempt to slit his own throat.

Alright, let’s get down to it.  Nobody’s heard of these two jabronis before because they were soccer players.  As we know in the Thorpiverse, playing soccer gets you nowhere and gives you ideas that you can do other things.  Then again, maybe that’s the concussions talking.  Maybe Heather Burns took one too many balls to the head and that made her think she could be a trainer a tight end The Quarterback Whisperer.  I seem to recall a whole story arc revolving around concussions and their impact.  Oh yeah, that was a football arc.  Since we’re talking soccer here it’s only worth one panel.

The Real Wilson Casey was a star tennis player. This could easily have been a summer tennis arc but that would have warped our fragile little minds.

There have been many Tony Pauls.  I’d like to think this one is a shout-out to the industrial designer, but more than likely it’s to the Detroit News sportswriter, given the Michigancentricity of Rubin’s world.

John Jawor wears the same middle-aged white guy face that Del Bader, Wildcat Maris, Father of True Standish, and countless other middle-aged white guys in Milford have worn.  Wouldn’t it have been more interesting if Whigham had drawn him to look more like the real John Jawor?

On that note, here’s an interview with The Real John Jawor.  Maybe it’ll be more interesting than this August plot. One thing’s for sure: The Real John Jawor would’ve told those kids to keep their elbows straight by now.

 

Yo Quiero Taco Bell And A Baseball Scholarship, Coach Colvin

Gang, First off, let me get this crow-eating part of me out of the way. That was not, as I might have suspected, Coach Tod Andrews that Gil was genuflecting to on the telephone. I should have known that Berrill’s version of Coach Andrews wouldn’t translate mathematically into Raul Julia at the tanning salon. Hey, you have a hard day at the office and you’re trying to please rabid fans and alumni plus perhaps an athletic director who might pull the trigger at the next 3 23-38 seasons, and ya gotta go somewhere. They’d never think to look under a heat lamp sleeping on a Serta mattress (“Charlie Brown, who’s that funny-looking gentleman with the shades? They never allow adults on the strip. Schultz and Pig Pen are turning over in their graves.”).

Oooooooooookkkkkkkkk, time to get back on my soapbox. And I have one question. Weren’t Coach Colvin and The Chihuahua at the same family reunion? I’d laugh my ass off if Moose showed up at the Taco Bell drive-thru ordering Triple-Layer Nacho Supreme, Mexican Pizza, hold the mushrooms, with tartar sauce, Nacho Cheese Doritos Ranch Style Locos Tacos Supreme, Beefy 5-Layer Burrito, Colby Jack substituted for American, side order of Arthur Treacher Fish ‘n Chips (in one of those little styrofoam containers you can barely take a urine test in, let alone cram mac and cheese or green beans with a slice of bacon the size of Scotch tape), wait behind 5 cars, daydreaming about hitting the game-winning home run in the bottom of the 9th inning, a grand slam no less thanks to all those videos about launch angles (hosted by Mel Allen when he’s moonlighting from This Week in Baseball) for good ol’ State U. against their hated rival, University State, the line is finally moving after 25 minutes, Moose is ready with the correct change, right down to the wooden nickel (“They never say anything”), only to find out that Coach Colvin is opening up the window. “Coach, do you have any mild sauce?” “Nope, all we have is extra-hot.”

Looking at my bat a 3rd time

Waiting for the Coach to call my name

Cuz I’m tired of doing all my homework

I just want a chance to play the game

I know Coach Thorp has warned me strongly

But I just got to dump this town for fame

DON’T GO BACK TO MILFORD

DON’T GO BACK TO MILFORD

DON’T GO BACK TO MILFORD

And waste another year

And let’s get the obvious out of the way. Thorpiverse has wasted our time with the obvious in P2. What did Gil think we were anticipating? Man, Kaz, if he lays on the beach on the Redneck Riviera (Alabama, for you non-rednecks), and takes pointers on how to pick up women from all the sailors who hail from all over the world, he oughta be able to pick up his bat speed by the time Fall Ball rolls around. I talked with Coach Colvin and he said that learning hand-eye coordination is like making a chimichanga. It just takes the right ingredients, i.e., eyes, hands, beans, sour cream, Hillerich & Bradsby bat, fresh ground beef, 80% fat-free with no hormones, 12″ tortilla. Yup, working the drive thru has taught Coach Colvin a lot about making Chimichanga Nuclear Cheese Buster that he’s carried out to the ball diamond when doing batting drills and knowing the count when you’re up at the plate. I think Kevin will do fine.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Daffy Duck Promoted to Editor!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Pulitzer Prize-Winning Story on Papa Bader Making “The Catch” At The DOC World Series Turned Many Heads. Warden Considering Early Release”

All you Brady Bunch groupies, remember when Don Drysdale came by the Brady manor because Mr. Brady (what’s his REAL name, Mendenhall Theophilus Randolph Brady III ?) was good friends with Don and the latter fattened Greg Brady’s head by saying that he could pitch in the World Series one day? I think Don fattened Moose’s head along the way. At least, I’m bettin’ that’s the gist of the conversation in P3. Sure Moose, you could start this weekend for the Yankees. Mickey Mantle is taking a personal day and they’re gonna be short-handed. Might as well start somewhere. If you can handle those assholes, Marty Moon and Ernie the P., surely you can handle the crowd at Yankee Stadium. No place like it.

Well, we all saw what happened to Greg.

It’s not as though I really need you

If you were here, I’d only leave you

But everybody else in town only wants to bring you down,

That’s not how it oughta be

Well, I know it might sound strange but I bel-

Gil, shouting in Moose’s ear “MOOSE, FOR THE 3RD TIME, YOU’RE ON DECK!!!!!!!”

“And Moose belts one over the Green Monster and the Yankees lead the Red Sox, 7-3. There’s a pitching change. Moose is obviously gotten to the pitcher, not to mention the Red Sox fans. We’ll be right back after these messages.”

 

At the Milford Wal-Mart Supercenter, Gil and family are about to check out.

“Mimi, I think we got ‘er done. We have everything for the Annual Baseball & Softball Picnic. 10 bags of Great Value Barbecue Chips? Check. 8 2-liter bottles of Fanta  Lime/Pomegranate? Check. Off! Bug Spray? Check. Oscar Meyer Reduced Fat Low Sodium Carb Free Kosher Prepared Light Garlic Thick-Sliced Bologna? Check. Is there anything else we forgot?

Mimi spots the family bathroom out of the corner of her eye. The diaper station was a dead giveaway.-

“Gil, let’s go to the family bathroom. Kids, you take the groceries to the station wagon. We’ll be right out.”

“Mimi, it’s been 30 years since we’ve changed anybody’s diaper. If you got to take a potty break, go now or forever hold your pants.”

“Gil, I need to talk to you about all the VanCamp’s Pork ‘n’ Beans you bought. Our check might bounce.”

“Mimi, we have Check-Bouncing Protection at Milford National Bank.”

“Yes, but they need our Social Security Number and you can’t say it out here. What if Marty’s around the corner, writes it down, then runs up a tab at Milford Lounge?”

Gil, trapped on that one, not wanting to see Marty stealing his SSN in the name of Gerst Beer, relents.

They enter the bathroom. She locks the door.

“Mimi, we don’t need to lock the door over Pork ‘n Beans.”

Mimi drops her pants. A perfect place for a quickie. And Gil is trapped.

He forgot to take his pill this morning because the Moen faucet sprung a leak and Milford Plumbing Inc. was on assignment over the weekend down in the sewer lines.

Gil had nothing to wash it down.

“Mimi, Is that helium balloon station by the Vision Center still there? Because I’m as limp as a 10-day-old plantain.”

“Gil, I can’t go out like this. That was THE IDEA, to stay in from the rain and get warm and cuddly.”

“Mimi, I don’t think that stall with all the street gang symbols on the walls would fit us anyway. I couldn’t go back and forth with that little room, let alone with the Twinkie I have in my possession.”

“Gil, surely the residue from the double dose you took the day before ought to carry over to this stall. I can wait until things start to inflate. In fact, I think I have a safety pin to prick the wienie in my purse.”

“I don’t know, Mimi. Now I know what Papa Bader goes through. He can barely poop, let alone pull a Pee-Wee Herman.”

BAM! BAM! BAM!

“IF YOU’RE DONE IN THERE, MY 3-YEAR-OLD HAS DIARRHEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Wal-Mart Assistant Manager Don Granger has the last word.

“It wasn’t pretty. We had to evacuate the Frozen and the Bakery aisles. We managed to salvage the endcap on the Healthy Choice’s.

Unfortunately, we had to literally flush all the Great Value Low Sodium Butterscotch/Maraschino Cherry Ice Cream on the other endcap straight down the janitorial-sized toilets. We had to refresh our associates on hand-washing procedures at the morning meeting, making sure they washed up to their elbows. It just sucked when we couldn’t do the Wal-Mart cheer (“Gimme a SQUIGGLY!!!!!!” “SQUIGGLY!!!!!!!!”).

“All of this could have been avoided if Gil had gone to the Milford Men’s Clinic. There’s a branch right here at Wal-Mart. That’s right, right next to Milford State Bank by the Grocery entrance. When men fail in their sex lives, isn’t it nice to know there’s a convenient location where men can get a refill while the wife does the grocery shopping? A match made in heaven. And the cleanup jobs it’ll save our associates. It makes for one happy family. Sam would have wanted it that way.

 

“Joe, could you hit that spot in the corner with the mop? There’s still a bit of doo-doo by the Totino’s Supreme Pizza endcap.”

“Yup. You want it buffered?”

“Nah, We won’t have time. The Totino’s blitz is today and I don’t want anybody getting run over.”

 

Gang, while Moose is trying to get out of Rockville, fire away. I’ll leave you with this

 

At night I sleep in Milford’s dugout

Waiting patiently to board the bus

Cuz it’s so much easier to handle

All my problems and I don’t have to swear and cuss

I’ll lift some weights and run a lot

And get my scholarship without a fuss

DON’T GO BACK TO MILFORD

DON’T GO BACK TO MILFORD

DON’T GO BACK TO MILFORD

 

And waste another year.

Coach Colvin needs to see a trainer, amirite?

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.