Knocked Him Back 11

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.

 

Beat the Devils

Rubin has taken the Mudlarks on a road trip to South Carolina once again. (Starting to think he must have a timeshare there.) Dreher – the only Dreher High School in the US – is in Columbia. It has some nice looking prairie style windows even though Columbia is about as far from the prairie as you can get. The Blue Devils football team has a Twitter feed but I don’t see Milford on that schedule. Maybe they got fit into that bye week between Gilbert and Lower Richland.

To the action: Charlie Roh (and I still can’t get over the fact that Rubin has named this kid of apparent Southeast Asian origin “Charlie”) manages to pick up a first down despite having a Blue Devil take a bite out of his left thigh. Holding that football like a loaf of bread might give us a clue as to why he fumbled in the opener. You’d think Kaz would’ve worked with him on that in practice yesterday. At least douchey Chet Ballard is happy for the moment.

That happiness is bound to last only for that moment as Charlie’s backfield rival, the introverted Chance Macy, reels off a touchdown run. No doubt Chet will have a hissy thinking that touch should’ve been Charlie’s. Chill out, Ballard! Go to the concession stand and grab a nice barbecue sandwich or something. If that doesn’t help, leave the game early, take that two-hour drive down I-26 and bend elbows with Mr. Bakst in Charleston. I’ve been known to do that on occasion.

 

 

So You’re Telling Me There’s a Chance

How can the bonfire be annual if we haven’t seen it in four years? Oh yeah – the good ol’ tell, don’t show. Young Jerry Lewis seems unfazed as he flashes a jazz hand and prepares to follow the Flying Fickle Finger of Fate Flaming Fist of Fury to Oakwood.

Speaking of things that haven’t been seen in a while: when was the last time you saw a football player wearing long sleeves? Must be getting cold early in Oakwood. Chance Macy has “broken loose” but he’s surrounded by three Oaks Owls, one of whom is on an immediate collision course with him. Looks like those knees might get tangled up, leading to a call to Trainer Rick Scott and an opening for Charlie “Ruh” Roh to step up, make an impact, and help stepdad Chet Ballard forget his weak showing against Hadley V. Baxendale. Wait, Tiki Jansen’s still on the team? Forget that last bit, then.

I Bet No One’s Said That to the Blues or Raptors

In the real world, this past week saw league championships won by franchises that had never won them before: the NHL’s St. Louis Blues and the NBA’s Toronto Raptors (contrary to popular belief, not named for Brent and Jolene Raptor). I always enjoy seeing first-time champs; I think it’s good for the sports. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been pulling for a Mariners-Nationals World Series for the past fifteen years. Both the Blues and the Raptors won on the road and, while it’s not the same as winning on home ice/court, it didn’t diminish the joy in their respective fan bases.

In the Thorpiverse, it’s not like the fans have been packing the bleachers to watch the Lady Mudlarks rip through the Valley. If anything, the TCFS scandal that wasn’t may have alienated large chunks of the student body. Since we seldom see the stands in any Milford baseball/softball action, it’s hard to say. My guess is that the Lady Mudlarks return to campus to three cheers and a tiger and a big TCFS banner honoring them for winning, for reading Animal Farm, and for passing out spirit buttons to anyone who asks nicely.

Today’s strip doesn’t have the feeling of a story wrap-up, but it does have some foreshadowing in the form of Jocelynn’s twisted ankle as she crosses the plate. Just enough of an injury to get the girls knocked out in the first round of the playdowns but not enough to end the self-congratulation. Maybe Mimi can lord it over Gil this summer; it’s no state championship but it’s the most recent championship either Thorp has brought back to Milford.

metapost, kinda: Mea culpa for getting it wrong earlier this week that Linda was going to David’s to break up with him. I still don’t give them much longer.

‘Scuse me while I whip this up*

Oooh, hubris! Love it!

So when do the too-cool-for-school girls get their comeuppance? When Molly goes on the DL for chemical burns after Milo accidentally on purpose tips her lab experiment over on her?  When fist bumps go wrong and somebody breaks a hand? Or when another rando MHS student fails to look up from his smartphone, slips on the highly polished floors and crashes into Molly, injuring her horribly? Things are going too well for the Lady Mudlarks – and their behavior becoming too arrogant – for this Era of Good Feelings to last.

Today’s bizarre cameos: Ted Cruz as Milo, Señor y Señorita Wences in the Milford infield. Rocki Prado has a Twitter feed but there’s not much gleaned from it. Props to the Chief for giving her lustrous hair to rival Gilchrist-era Aunt Fritzi and earrings that more closely approximate what girls currently wear than what are usually seen in Milford.

 

*Which is what I say to myself every day I write a post here.

The Bases Are Loaded: Is the Artist Loaded Too?

Okay, could all y’all who said you were going to sleep please wake up and help me figure out the bizarro details in today’s strip?

Panel one starts out okey-dokey. Nice detail on the batting gloves, Chief and, uh, nice effort on using words that a softball player might use, Rubin.  Jocelynn Brown must be part of the Brown-Hiatt family ’cause she’s making things happen.

We get to panel two and what the hell is going on here?  Is this a Milford baserunner, base coach, or someone standing on a bag about six feet from the outfield wall?  Did she get her arms from an all-you-can-eat Alaskan king crab leg buffet?  Is she wearing Japanese tabi cleats?  Isn’t 410 a deep wall for high school softball?  (With this perspective, kinda makes you think that should read 4/20.)  Finally, is that a smaller Ricozzi’s Pizza billboard on the fence?  How funny would it have been had big money BRobby Howry kept buying ad space ripping Gil on his own playing field?

On to panel three.  I know that ideally a home plate umpire doesn’t line up directly behind the catcher, so as to have a better view of the outside corner of the plate.  I can’t recall ever having seen an ump line up that far off center – nearly perpendicular to the catcher – even with an unseen left-handed batter up.  Maybe someone who’s been to a softball game more recently than I can confirm this is legit.

Oh, and someone please tell me Benson uses this cheer:

 

Okay, everybody back to sleep now.

I’m from the psychologist’s office and I’m here to help

It’s been a very long day for yhs and I have a sneaking suspicion that however I choose to snark today’s strip, it’ll already have been done to death on the Curmudgeon. With that in mind…

Time moves slowly in the Valley. Milford may be 1959 with cell phones, but in Tilden they whip out their 143-year-old campaign posters to decorate the gym.

Wow, will ya look what a little counseling – or just the promise of counseling – will do.  Just like that shortstop-in-waiting Filion has turned into Mr. Helper. Even with Gil having benched the four failed wannabe billboard defacers, the Filion-driven Mudlarks are putting the Tildenites away in short order.

Meanwhile Marty thinks he’s being witty by labeling Marcell Ledbetter Irby the “stovepipe sophomore,” which conjures up imagery of Ralph Sampson, Chuck Nevitt or Manute Bol. His face tells another story, revealing the unfolding, horrifying realization that a winning Gil Thorp-coached team will destroy the Marty n’ B/Robby Show’s raison d’être. Not to fear, o soused sportscaster: Milford only wins when other teams have either thrown in the towel or benched their starters to rest them for the playdowns.

Milford Hoops: It’s Not Life or Death

Boys and girls, suicide is no laughing matter.  Especially when your coach/authority figure suggests you might be considering it.

Even the Milford cheerleaders are getting sucked into the abyss of despair.  Too bad they don’t have a girls’ team they could be cheering for.

In my own (admittedly ancient) experience, having crappy sports teams doesn’t typically drive a student body into mass self-harm.  What typically happens is that apathy sets in. The crowds get smaller until they’re composed mainly of the players’ parents and those kids who still want to see and be seen. Students find other extracurriculars to fill their time and boost their college applications. I hear the A/V Club is getting popular in Milford.

Whatever they do, they certainly don’t let some self-aggrandizing punk-ass who couldn’t make the team or remember to do his equipment manager job for daydreaming about coaching get under their skin.  (Speaking of self-aggrandizing, I seem to recall a post that kinda sorta predicted B/Robby might end up working with Marty.)

I suspect Rubin is setting us up for A Very Special Gil Thorp but I also suspect this isn’t gonna win him a Reuben.