This Week in Milford

October 12, 2019

Maybe that pissiness would be better channeled into helping your kid rake leaves.

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Late start to the day as yhs stayed up late last night to watch Game 1 of the NLCS. With a DeJong and a Bader in one lineup and a Soto in the other, I was getting a very Milfordian vibe. There were no nosy-assed, pushy players’ parents/school board members or hidden backstories (well, one team’s relief pitcher did miss the game on paternity leave) and the announcers didn’t seem like particular homers for either team, so I guess the similarities ended there.

But I digress, mainly because I feel like we’ve trod this well-trodden trail before. Having a player’s past anger management issues thrown up in his face has been done, and the outcome was resolved to the player’s benefit. The difference here is that it wasn’t one of Van Auken’s teammate’s parents throwing his past anger management issues up in his face in an effort to get him benched (or worse) in favor of their less-talented stepchild. News flash, Ballard: these shenanigans won’t guarantee Charlie will start over Chance, they won’t make your stepson a better player, and they sure as hell won’t get him to stop calling you “Chet.”

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October 9, 2019

Rock Around the (Poor) Clock (Management)

Filed under: actual action, exposition comics, football, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Tilden — teenchy @ 8:36 am

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WDIG Newsflash: This just in: As a gesture to honor the memory of the late Bull Bushka, Milford High to change the nickname of its football team from the Mudlarks to the Scapegoats… Wait, what’s that?… They’re only giving that nickname to their backup running back? Never mind. Back to our regularly scheduled broadcast.

Geez, good thing Rubin remembered to give us the score yesterday, a week and a half into this game. We never saw any scoring plays so how we got to 19-14 is anybody’s guess. We also never saw Gil burn through all of his second half timeouts, or implement the game plan for the second-string running back to get the ball on every play.  He might have had Schuring look a little further downfield on fourth and long, but maybe Charlie saw Gabe Salazar overrule Gil’s play call in the huddle and thought he’d do the same thing.

No matter. Charlie missed it by that much and now that the Tilden game is over, the blame game can begin.

October 5, 2019

Steamed Gams

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“I was so steamed, I didn’t even feel it. Those little green pills you gave me before the game helped, too, Mr. Scott.”

Yeah, I couldn’t figure out why Chance’s grandparents were looking up either. I figured from the way his helmet was popping up Rock’em Sock’em Robots style, Chance might’ve started his transformation into The Hulk. Maybe they were transfixed by the sight of Marty Moon rising up from his crate to deliver a benediction. (Mighty nice of Marty’s mom to put a vanity mirror in there; makes it easier for Marty to shave.)

Good thing Chance sprained his ankle. Now Gil won’t make him run bleachers as punishment for retaliating for Tilden’s Bill Romanowski wannabe’s personal foul. Macy will miss next week’s game, either because his sprain won’t have healed in time or because Gil will bench him for the unsportsmanlike conduct penalty. It’ll be interesting to see the role Chance’s anger management problems play in this arc (compared to, oh say, Barry Bader’s).

Looks like Rick Scott didn’t get the memo: this season it’s not “Uh-Oh,” it’s “Rut-Roh!” – and it’s Charlie’s cue to get into the lineup and finish the drill.

 

October 4, 2019

Cheap shot artists

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, lazy artwork — robmize2013 @ 8:42 pm

In P1 I find it odd that the Tilden sign in background doesnt fit the yellow background. Its as if they made the background first and realized 6 big letters cant fit inside it. I dont know why there are big trees where the opposing stands should be.. I see stands to the far right but how long is the field if the stands are that far away? And where are the sideline personnel ( players, coaches, trainers, yard marker holders) Way too few people in the shot for it to be realistic.

P2 is ok, but P3 has Chances parents just now discovering that their son is involved in a skirmish? They both need new glasses if they didnt see the long sideline run by Chance followed by the late hit and subsequent takedown.

I would think there should be offsetting penalties for unsportsmanlike conduct meated out by the refs. Anything else should draw the ire of Gil and initiate another life lesson afterward.

 

October 2, 2019

Knocked Him Back 11

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, Highlight reel, lazy artwork, Tilden — teenchy @ 8:43 am

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Damn, Gabe Salazar hit Tilden #53 so hard he turned the double sixes on his jersey into double fives! (Tearaway numbers, perhaps?) Still that doesn’t stop #53’s jawing; it’s a wonder he can see who he’s jawing at with that helmet slammed down so far over his eyes. Between calling the audible and mouthing off at the opponent, Gil has lost control of Gabe. Usually that results in a benching followed by the Mudlarks quickly packing in their season but hey, this show must go on at least for the remainder of this game.

Any momentum Milford had will soon be swept away when dirty #53 takes a dive at Chance Macy. No doubt Chance will be injured severely enough for Charlie Roh to come off the bench and replace him. No doubt, too, that whatever Charlie does or doesn’t do will be met with some passive-aggressive criticism from chirpy Chet Ballard, who will direct that passive aggression toward Gil. Careful, Chet: unless your name is Marty Moon, everyone from Hobart to Wildcat Maris to B/Robby Howry who takes on the Gilfather eventually gets banished to the cornfield.

 

September 28, 2019

With A Great Ground Game Comes Great Responsibility

Filed under: Coach Kaz, exposition comics, Fat Guys, football, freak hands, Gil Thorp — teenchy @ 2:29 pm

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After a hot sweaty workout complete with gun show, Gil and Kaz towel down and make a little pillow talk. His guard down, a dreamy-faced Gil lets slip just exactly who it is he fantasizes about during these training room sessions. Kaz pretends not to notice, instead continuing his amateur private dick schtick and nosing around for more info on the tight-lipped Chance Macy.  There are as many valid reasons for a high school student with otherwise good grades to be a year behind other students his age as there are readers of this blog.

Speaking of Chance, quick cut to his dinner table where Macy dwarfs his grandparents and where there’s also an empty chair. Grandpa follows Gil’s lead and adds another to the pile of cryptic comments in the fall arc thus far. Where are Macy’s parents? Is he gonna have a similar backstory to Silent John Pascoe? Will it make Chance’s grandparents his equivalent to Aunt May and Uncle Ben? Will he get bitten by a radioactive spider next?

September 27, 2019

Good chance this guys a fraud

Filed under: Gil Thorp — robmize2013 @ 8:52 pm

Kaz and Gil dance around the issue of Chance Macy. Why the hell do they have all these questions?  Doesnt Milford have a database of all its students, with date of birth, residence, etc. on file in the main office?? He’s older then some of the juniors?? What the fuck kind of question is that? Arent the seniors older then the juniors? What a holy hell mess this school is.

So Gil hides known info from Kaz so Kaz can find the said info out himself, then Kaz STILL has to ask Gil why Chance is a year behind?  A year behind who? The juniors? So what is he, a sophomore who is as old as a senior??

The real dumbbells here are not the weights, people.

September 26, 2019

“Did You See Him With Shades On And Carrying A Bottle Of Jack Out Of Milford Beverage Warehouse?” “I Did.”

Filed under: big arms, Coach Kaz, exposition comics, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 1:11 pm

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Down in the dumpy, roach-infested digs

We’d roll and fall in green

You wore a beehive like this Spalding pigskin

Too much Sassoon, too pepper-gray

 

Why don’t you leave me

So I can possess the game

I hated you, I loved football too

 

Bad calls in the night

Coach told me I was going to lose the fight

Leave behind my

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m legal age

I’ve passed the physical, I’m still eligible

Let me in the game

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Gang, I apologize, I had this one wrapped up for Christmas but a personal matter turned up and like Grandma Macy, she was was hard to bounce out on the street so I had to find her bifocals which we FINALLY tracked down under the cushion of the couch along with the remote we’ve been searching for for several months. Thank God we weren’t trying to find her dentures. Under the seat slobbering on the channel function? Yuck.

Anyhoo, Today’s post includes a performer I have always admired. Her music is electric and scintillating and really gets in me. But I grew up on Alice Cooper, no problem. I grew up on Black Sabbath, in particular, Ozzy Osbourne, no problem. I lived to tell about it every time I played “Children of the Grave”, the lead-in “Embroyo”, if you want to get greedy, off of “Master of Reality”. I grew up on Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart, no problem.

NONE of these performers have scared the shit out of me the way Kate Bush does. She has an eerie presence that works and adds the touch to her music that really sends me. One night at 2:00AM, I was reading an article on her that I had to put down, her photographs were THAT frightening. But that’s what also makes it appealing for me and will add, in my opinion, the punch to this plotline that is enigmatic and starting to limp after a strong start at the Milford Marathon. God, I hate to see what happens at Heartbreak Hill. Kate will be there to deliver the death blow, trust me.

 

At the 26 mile mark, situated at the beveled loading dock at Milford Foundry

“Gil, want some Gatorade? You look like you could use some.”

“Hell, no. I can suck it a few more yards. I’ll have my picture with my family proudly beside me.”

“That’s nice, but the photographer went home for the night.”

 

If ya gotta pass the ‘rithmatic Final by studyin’ the multi-plik-a-shun tables ’til the rooster crows early mornin’ so yuz can FINALLY pass 3rd grade and be eligible as a redshirt freshman for the junior varsity football team and ya FINALLY got 9 x 9 cuh-rehct by placin’ 9 monkey wrenches on the hood one way and 9 the other way, pointin’ towards the dice in the rear-view mirror, ya might be a redneck.

 

P1 is scary but if Thorpiverse thinks it’s going to get to Chance singing “The Red Shoes”, I think we better stick with Kate, thank you very much. We are led to believe that Chance is the second coming of Ted Bundy, about to chop up Grandma Macy with a Ginsu knife once he gets off the team bus, unbeknownst to the kids sitting behind him, talking about girls, football, what’s available online at The Bucket (“Let’s order that Bucket Tunaburger again. It’s got tuna wild-caught out of Mudlark Lake.” “HOLD ON. My phone ain’t working.”) .

And what sucks, We were getting used to Chet being an asshole and tolerating his inchoate methods for dealing with his stepson and his potential football talent or dealing with Coach Thorp and his coaching in absentia and still putting a product on the field. Aren’t you getting vertigo jumping from Stiff-Necked Lout to Norman Bates about to turn Grandma Bates into sawdust? Like Robert Frost, I prefer the Road Less Confusing. But I know a lot of you aren’t into “Fire and Ice”. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.

STILL, once the only player who hasn’t been carded at Milford Lounge gets off the bus, I would like a little stability here. It’s time to get back to normalcy. So the League of Nations was a bad concept and now we’re going to have to endure every man for himself. But, Hell, we’ve had plenty of practice watching Chet at football games. Talk about grandstanding in the name of your own ego. His son better make the NFL and make this damn thing worth it, is all I can say.

 

Oooohhh, game gets close, it gets chippy

On the other side from you

I bitch a lot. I whine a lot

Wish I got ‘Dad’ from you

 

Don’t let Dreher back, Chuck

Cruel Macy, my one blot

My only other running back

 

Too long, Chance is in the play

Charlie’s coming in on second down, to put it right

He’s rolling right to

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m obnoxious

I’ve read the pattern, I’m a pro at this

Let me call the plays

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Well, did you think the lyric was going to be “I’m a Good Samaritan, I believe in sportsmanship, shake the hand of your opponent when you lose, Charlie”? Hell, we could end the football plot RIGHT NOW and take a sneak preview into basketball. But noooooooooo, Chet’s gotta be an asshole for about 2 more months before we schedule the Billy Graham Crusade at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater. Can’t have Chet answering the altar call before October. Ooops, I forgot, we still have Ted Bundy and his grandma. But you can only chop her up 31 ways if that plot lasts until Halloween. Better to drag this jalopy all the way to the finish line. Jughead Jones will be there at Heartbreak Hill with a Radio Flyer full of Bucket Burgers.

 

Oh, come on, coaches. In P2, we are subjected to a conversation a bit on the unrealistic side. I was only kidding about Chance being compared to Ted Bundy. They aren’t.

As long as we’re going to be ostentatious about weightlifting and hoist something your average senior citizen with his or her yearly pass at the Milford Athletic Club could jerk up and down without Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em head serving as a spotter, why don’t we at least get real. I have dealt with, either in Babe Ruth or at the private school I coached, SEVERAL players who were short on conversation. That didn’t make them Lizzie Borden. As long as they showed up ready to play and listen, giving me 110%, I really didn’t care if they weren’t much for words.

Now don’t get me wrong. I think it’s in every coach’s best interest to establish an excellent relationship or at least a workable rapport with your players as long as you’re in the same dugout or on the bench.  I can honestly say that I could get players to crash through a wall for me as long as I treated them with RESPECT (Notice big case letters) . The players were GREAT to me and they made me who I am. They took the wins, I took the losses.

But common sense rules the day. If Chance doesn’t have a meat cleaver in his locker, I think it’s safe to say that his grandma will sleep another night. 2541 will enter another halcyon period since it’s hard for me to imagine Silent Chance attacking his grandma with his Boy Scout knife out of his drawer.

Time to hit the sauna, Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Head.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared On Rape Charges In Grandma Macy’s Living Unit!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Judge Ito knows me better than that. I wouldn’t touch her with gloves on or off.”

 

Then in P3, Coach Kaz is really sweating it out, either from bench-pressing the 25-pound weight (allowing for 5 pounds on the bar) or the agony of cerebralizing whether they’re harboring someone who’s old enough to file for Social Security benefits. Heavy-duty mental loads like this can be hell on the last rep, we know, Coach Kaz. Gil is there with a Handi-Wipe.

BTW, how do they know all this unless they were riding on the bus THEMSELVES? And, okay, if they didn’t ride in the Coach’s Limo (So THAT’S where Thorp keeps his golf clubs in the summer when he’s not not-coaching during the school year) , or in a separate bus which some schools do if the team is carrying a lot of players (i.e., Sophomore bus, Freshman bus, etc.) , and they indeed rode with Ted Bundy and his arguably subversive, slightly dangerous demeanor, what were they doing, observing the entire bus ride back to Milford? And not celebrating with the rest of the team? Concern is one thing. Stretching the storyline so it makes the half hour slot without having to fill in with another Toyota Corolla or Breeze Detergent commercial is another. The silver lining to the latter might be I’d get a towel out of the box when I’m dumping detergent in the washing machine with the “rinse” letters barely legible at the Milford Laundromat to wash my tube socks but that’s about it.

But us Thorpiverse veterans are used to Rubber-Band Man scenarios. Stretch away, Coaches.

 

“And that just about wraps up the Milford Marathon here at the finish line here by the Wacky Water Slide here at Mudlark Lake. Jerry Pulver Jr. wins the event in a record 2:27:16. Coach Thorp and Coach are yet to be accounted for. I understand they got lost by the drawbridge by The Bucket. They had to wait ’til the Milford & Oakwood frigate finally got its orders. That gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This ius Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG-Radio, a division of Learfield Sports.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m training for the Milford Marathon!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, it’s 2:37 in the morning. And why are you training in the bathroom in the basement?”

“I gotta stay mentally strong. You can’t have any lapses in concentration when you’re chuggin’ for 26 miles.”

“Darling, I can give you that extra boost if you’ll give me a chance. Now come to bed with me.”

“Mrs. Shaw, you don’t understand. I have to be at my peak performance. That’s why I’m drinkin’ all these Nutrament Dutch Chocolate shakes. There’s plenty more behind the Pennzoil 10W-30 bottles here in the closet.”

“Aren’t there linens in there too? Where’d you put those?

“Blubba blubba, you’d be surprised how many Holiday Inn towels can cover a case full of Nutrament French Vanilla and Bar’s Leaks. Why it’s a match made in Heaven. And you can’t have any dissension when you’re at Heartbreak Hill. I’ll be sprintin’ like Jesse Owens if I got the Nutrament Black Cherry Special Blend wrapped up out of view.”

“And I don’t EVER remember your buying running shoes.”

“Ickity ackity oop, uh uh, I bought some cross trainers at a yard sale. Kid ran ’em in the Milford High School X-Country meets. Still got some high school invitationals left. I’ll be runnin’ like the wind at mile 15.”

“I just hope the crowd doesn’t notice the wimpy thing between your legs by then. Hard to hide that one with a Holiday Inn towel, My Love.”

 

“What could I say? She had me and she knew it and I knew it. It was time to take the towels back to Holiday Inn and pay the $7.00 Missing Merchandise Fee, then head down to Milford Men’s Clinic to deal with MY OWN missing merchandise. With treatment programs that work, my significant other came out of hiding and none too soon. I won my age division at the Milford Marathon thanks to the sprints I won in bed. Boy, it’s nice when you can pump your arms and your significant other simultaneously. My wife sure as hell agreed. But don’t take my word for it. Run on down to Milford Men’s Clinic and win your own age bracket. There’s plenty of ribbons to be won there. Come and claim your own Blue Ribbon. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. I can only pass it along BUT I WILL. Y’all mean the world to me.

 

Ooohhhh, let him have it

Let Charlie take the game away

Oooohhhh, let him have it

Let Chance slice Granny away

You know it’s Gil, Cathy

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m concerned

I’ve come home, you’re so frazzled

Let Charlie, though fumbling, through the window

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m cornered

Etc., etc., etc.,

 

What are Gil and Kaz doing, pumping iron in Thorpiverse Heights? I hope they have plenty of Off!

Well done, Kate.

 

 

 

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