This Week in Milford

January 13, 2018

Gil Thorp Doesn’t Care About Huddled Masses

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Boy, I sure feel like trotting out my New Yorker-referencing post from last March. Could Gil be any more of an insensitive prick? Jordy’s cousin Jorge has had his home destroyed and is just looking for some semblance of order in his life right about now. All Gil cares about is that the kid isn’t as tall and broad as he’d like in the showers on the court. Remember, Gil, you go to war with the basketball team you have, not the one you might want or wish to have at a later time.

Surely Coach Thorf can pull out his Little Golden Book of Sports Strategies from the Early 20th Century and find one suitable for a team full of guards. Small ball, run-and-gun, a lot of forced switching up on defense, with a focus on speed, agility and a whole lot of conditioning training – the options for a size-challenged basketball team are out there. Then again, for a coach who pulls old formations and strategies out of his ass mid-season and expects his players to adapt almost immediately, that may be too much to expect.

Jordy Castillo is becoming that rarest of birds in the Thorpiverse: a guy with a goatee who isn’t a cardboard villain or fly in the ointment.  Jorge looks to come from good stock.

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January 4, 2018

Hoops Analysis This Soon? Why Bother?

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Every now and then an astute TWIM commenter brings up the notion that Neal Rubin’s Milford, in which high school kids go out for, make, and play regularly on teams in multiple sports, isn’t necessarily an accurate reflection of the current state of youth sports in the US. We occasionally get a glimpse into that world – the summer 2015 arc being a prime example – but by and large it’s a phenomenon that gets overlooked in the Thorpiverse. Given that the deepest drink of success juice Gil’s had in along time came by way of a kid whose sole focus up to that point had been a single sport, you’d think he’d be more amenable to the idea. It might even make for a more intriguing story line than we’re used to seeing. (Me, I was wondering if there’d be some ramifications from Jaquan Case walking around Milford in a hoodie in summertime, but Rubin spit that bit.)

But the Gil Thorp model of team-building probably plays well in places where they still read GRIT Gil Thorp in print. It keeps Gil in a coaching monopoly and Marty in a spiffy crate. So maybe we’ll get treated to a quintet of lunky hoopers dishing out elbows and concussions whilst setting picks for A.A.Ron Aagard (whose splintered home life will hopefully get picked up on as the arc progresses) and another wispy guy in the Max Bacon/Lini Verde mold.

December 27, 2017

Step 1: Identify The Cash, If Any, On Offer

Filed under: freak hands, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, Pissy faced Ricky Soto — timbuys @ 11:40 am

December 26, 2017

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Sorry for being AWOL yesterday folks. Whoever thought putting Christmas and New Year’s Day on a Monday was a good idea seriously dropped the ball.

Anyway, shocking big reveal that Richard ‘Papa’ Soto has come to lay the smack down at, in Wednesday’s big reveal, Gil’s behest.

I’ll be back later in the day with today’s strip. Until then, have at it!

Bonus point: Anyone else notice that UG reacts much like a puff adder when threatened?

Minus point: I think my wife would ask what the hell I was doing if I hugged her with Richard’s fingers under the scapula technique.

December 22, 2017

We’re So Sorry, Uncle Gary

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We’re so sorry, Uncle Gary

We’re so sorry but you’ve become such a pain…

No, no, not again. I won’t go down the song parody path again today.  Nope, as they say on HGTV, this is the day of the big reveal. The suspended law license explains why he has so much time on his hands; the bankruptcy explains why he’s looking to little Ricky as the gravy train. Finally, since we didn’t go all internet ninja on “Gary DuBose” earlier this week, I’ve taken the liberty of doing so. Let’s start here:

 

Making the HGTV analogy may be appropriate after all, given that the real Gary DuBose looks to be some kind of a real estate flipper. Gil’s hairy talking flipper promises a  “But wait, there’s more!” moment that will keep us on the edge of our Staples-issue office chairs until tomorrow.

December 21, 2017

I Need to JO

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Jo Dawg, I heard you like joe so I put “JO” on your joe mug so you can read “JO” while you drink joe

*****

 

Well, the talk on the street
Says you coach Rick Soto
This brother of mine
Says he shouldn’t play no mo’

I need to know (I need to know)
I need to know (I need to know)
If you think he shouldn’t play
Then you better say so
I need to know (I need to know)
I need to know (I need to know)
Because I don’t know who’s wrong, him or my son
If I’m needin’ to wait, if I’m needin’ a spine
I need to know (I need to know)
I need to know (I need to know)

Who would’ve thought that
I’d listen to this guy?
I’ll be right back
I gotta call Dubai

I need to know (I need to know)
I need to know (I need to know)
If you think he oughta play
Then you better say so
I need to know (I need to know)
I need to know (I need to know)
Because I don’t know who’s wrong, him or my son
If I’m needin’ to wait, if I’m needin’ a spine
I need to know (I need to know)
I need to know (I need to know)
Wow!

*apologies to the late great TP

Wish I knew how to get my thumb to migrate to the other side of my palm like Gil has. He must be double-jointed and Hungarian.

December 15, 2017

I Personally Would Recommend That He Refrain From Pointing At Gil Like That

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Metapost: Hi Gang, Just a quick substitute post while Rob takes one for the team and helps Santa out around this time of year.

Connie is just flatout the worst. On the one hand, I can absolutely understand why Soto père is off in Dubai and incommunicado. That said, this is not actually a healthy manner in which to…. awww, who cares anymore.

Tune in tomorrow when, if Gil’s rictus in panel three is any indication, the smack will be well and truly laid down.

December 12, 2017

Thank Goodness She Didn’t Refer To Friday’s Game As A Match

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So does anyone ever wonder if Uncle Gary arrived in Milford as a level headed, vaguely successful professional but, after a few days of drinking the local unfiltered tap water, he morphed into this?  Just me? OK.

Minus points: What sort of quasi-Australopithecene noggin is the erstwhile Dr. Joane Gerstner, M.D., displaying on that chart there? That, coupled with her game retort to Crazy Uncle Gary, raises more questions than have been answered (i.e., that Little Ricky definitely, almost positively doesn’t have a concussion-in-fact-they-(concussions)-are-not-even-really-so serious-so-why-would-we-even-need-to-look-at-that-baseline-testing-we-established-earlier-in-the-arc?)

Again, I leave this here.

Bonus Point? The detail on the radiological waste bin warning sticker.

Edited to add this:

December 9, 2017

Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Dubai

December 8, 2017

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Wow, Rick Soto must’ve grown a foot and gained 100 pounds since he took that knee to the helmet. He looks like he could be selling Niblets. Again, there’s nothing in this strip that would hip the novice Gil Thorp reader to the dynamics at work here. Convos like this are no doubt playing out all over this land of ours on a regular basis, but in most cases I’d venture “your mother and I”  “your mother, my milquetoast sister and I, your creeper uncle who wants to make a buck off you.”

December 9, 2017

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I’d been waiting to throw today’s title out ever since Richard Soto, Sr. got his backstory, but at this point I don’t know if we’ll ever see him in person so I figured since he’s referenced today I might as well use it now.*  It’s almost as though Rubin invested so much effort into making Uncle Gary the evil father substitute that he forgot he had written in an actual father for Rick. Hence this quick-dump, poor excuse of a throwaway line to Andre to keep from having to develop that character, or have him behave as an actual father might when he learned about all that’s gone down this fall.

Nice to see the Milford Public Library stay relatively on-model.

*Also, it’s not baseball season but it’s still worth throwing out the origin of the song’s use in a sports context.

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