You Go Shootin’ While I Go Fetch A Player.

Well, you shoot the ball

And I’ll go recruitin’, Honey

You swish the nets

And I’ll do some callin’, Babe

You line it up down the free throw hole

I’ll go fishin’ with my crawdad pole

For players, tall and fine

 

Gang, WHERE did Phoebe Keener come from? Was she one of those guest stars that popped out of the woods on Gilligan’s Island?

“Skipper, I just saw another Mudlark down by the lagoon. She was working on her lay-ups.”

“Oh, Gilligan, you’ve had too much of that coconut juice again. Why don’t you go lay down in the shade, Little Buddy, and get some rest?”

Why get on the phone, Mimi, and attempt to get more players when they seem to be coming out of your linen closet? Besides, isn’t that what TRYOUTS are for? Then you’ll never have to look in your shower stall again for a center who can score and rebound.

 

I was intrigued by You and the Law, a fascinating read on the different facets of the law. The Yale Professor of Law who wrote it made an especially interesting observation on the fact that you couldn’t appeal to your State Supreme Court for issues such as traffic fines (basically appeals on a State’s Constitution are heard) . Soooooooooooo

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Will Not Pursue DUI Case In Milford Superior Court!!!!!!!!!!!!! Will Enroll In Defensive Driving School In March!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I still think I got a raw deal on my Constitutional rights. Making me walk a straight line while I got Wrigley’s Spearmint in my mouth? Where’s the justice?”

 

As long as players are going to come out of Brigadoon, I might as well point out that Phoebe and that Harding defender couldn’t execute the Pee Wee Herman Dance any better than in P1. Mimi, having trouble locating players with some moves and good court vision? Look no further than this game. See, if you look within your own camp, it’s amazing what you can find. And all you need now is a record player to play that sax rendition of the dance, and an outlet to plug in the record player, naturally.

 

Well, you text a line

And I’ll go beggin’, Honey

No lane violations

And I’ll be a suck-ass, Babe

You pop the 3 down in the hole

I’ll be in the hallways with my crawdad pole

Honey, this takes time

 

And what OTHER entity could that be in P1 than The Blob returning to eat a player or fan or two? Sheesh, no wonder why Mimi can’t get anybody to play on the team. And what is St. Elmo’s Fire doing other than aiding in abetting with The Blob in devouring a fan who’s holding the “Kick the Shit out of Milford” (musta slipped a 20 to the security when he paid his admission ticket) ? If there’s one thing us Thorpiverse veterans can always count on, it’s a conglomerate of the Shadow People who have been pasted together for over 60 years. And the beauty is, the Harding fans and the Milford fans aren’t sitting in their separate clumps, er, sections. Yeah, I’m afraid the Shadow People or The Blob does not discriminate. Mudlark fans have been eaten at a steady rate along with Oakwood fans, New Thayer fans, etc. for 6 decades.

“Gil, where’s Jaime and Keri?”

“I don’t know. They were here just a minute ago. Yuck!!!!! What’s that giant red piece of Play-Doh doing on the verandah?”

 

If ya gotta use somebody’s jumper cables ta fish yore shotgun outta the crawdad hole that landed there cause ya tripped on some fresh deer droppings and ya pay the man a 6-pack of Bud for his successful efforts, ya might be a?redneck.

“Coach, I heard you need a power forward for the team.”

As Gil gets up from humping Mimi

“I do, but next time, don’t climb through the window. We’ll fix the door handle, I promise.”

 

And then we have Cindy Brady a/k/a Susan Wilcox-Olson who appears to give the Lady Mudlarks an outside scoring threat. Okay, Mimi, I understand you were desperate and had to enter the Milford Interdenominational Church for Susan’s wedding ceremony to beef up the roster (“…with this ring, I thee wed EXCUSE ME WE NEED YOU IN THE LINEUP, MRS. WILCOX-OLSON) , but couldn’t it have waited to change the surname from Olsen to Olson at the Milford City Clerk’s until after the game? If she can shoot, let her fire away, we’ll take care of the details later. I know we gotta reverse her maiden name and married name EVENTUALLY, let alone spell her maiden name correctly, but if Mimi needs Rolaids and needs it now, you don’t spell relief “B-U-R-E-A-U-C-R-A-C-Y”. You got a chance to win the game, Mimi, don’t blow it on a technicality.

 

On the S.S. Enterprise

“Scotty, see if you can maneuver a little closer to Xeneid. I understand the gasses are not noxious enough to allow us to penetrate the biosphere.”

“I don’t know, Captain, the ship won’t sustain much more with that magnetic field at our throats. And we are being fired upon even as we speak.”

“Spock, have you had many dealings with the people?”

“They’re not known to create problems with negotiations, if that’s what you are indicating. I can print out a communications cable-”

That notorious danger siren is sounding. Everybody is frozen. The door opens.

“Spock, is that one of their citizens?”

“I’m not sure. May we help you?”

“Yes, I understand the Milford Lady Mudlarks need a point guard off the bench in case Phoebe Keener needs a rest. Did I press the wrong button?”

 

 

And SOMEBODY CAN COUNT. Yes, there are 2 legs attached to each human torso in P2, although one player didn’t take her Rolaids and wound up with Club Foot. It must be hard to do lay-ups during warm-ups.

And minus points for the crotch shot of the coach. When The General was leading the 1976 Hoosiers to the National Championship, Scott May and Quinn Buckner and Kent Benson didn’t take orders from The General’s private collection. Couldn’t you see somebody’s crotch in Cream and Crimson? Didn’t think so.

 

You bomb it away

And I’ll grovel with my pleas, Honey

You drive baseline

And I’ll be petitioning, Babe

Shoot and-one from the ball you stole

I’ll fish at The Bucket with my crawdad pole

Honey, this 2-guard is mine

 

I love Diana Hacker and her ideas on style when writing is priceless. Not a day goes by that I don’t read something from her.

And right now, she would have a cow on how the sentence from P2 leads into P3.

If I’m getting the gist of the matter, Alexa “Don’t you dare call me ‘Gauss'” Watson is passing to Susan Olson-Wilcox-Olsen-in-the-Brady-Bunch-credits for the go-ahead score, THEN LATER passes to Phoebe Keener for an insurance score. Fair enough.

But of course, Thorpiverse has Hacker steamed because the way the sentence is structured, Susan Brady is getting the ball to score then subsequently sending it to Phoebe for another score. The way the modifiers are mangled, Harding is owed a possession which is unlikely to be settled so Milford will likely win because literary style went the way of Chris’ street clothes in the previous tete-a-tete with Coach Thorp. Amazing how many games Milford has won in 60 years riding the miscarriage of justice.

“That’s a split infinitive.”

“Game, set, and match, Thorp.”

 

Tomorrow’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Miffed Over Being Informed That State Supreme Court Will Not Hear Case!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was NOT double-parked in front of the Milford Lounge. The farmer’s pick-up had a flat.”

 

And dangling modifiers aside, I like Phoebe’s Hokey-Pokey with the ball

You shoot with both hands in

You shoot with both hands out

You shoot with both hands from your chest

And you shake things all about

 

You do the funky lay-up

Then you turn yourself around

That’s how the game will turn out.

 

Game won by choppy sentences and a poor rendition of the Hokey-Pokey. Hey, an ugly win is better than a pretty loss.

 

 

Because I love to cook and was fascinated with all the combos with white grapes you could partake of

 

“And Marcia passes to Cindy over to Jan cross-court pass to Wilma who finds Betty on the baseline who kicks it out to Reggie for 3…”

BOOM BABY

“And Slick, Harding has called a time-out to talk things over. With 3:52 left in the 3rd quarter, it’s the Pacers, 89, Harding 86, the Pacers on a 12-2 run. We’ll have more on the Fan Duel Scoreboard in a moment, this is Mark Boyle and you’re listening to the Pacers Radio Network.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this week is National Wine Week right here in good ol’ Milford. Now I realize that many cities all over the country have their own Wine Week but the way Milford Beverage Warehouse looks at it, soaking in The Good Life is a year-round venture anyway.

Hi, this Coach Thorp and Man o Man, have I got some deals for you. Right here in our own backyard, Milford Valley is selling their premium White Wine Supreme at a door-busting $7.99 a bottle. Good golly Miss Molly, I’ll be knockin’ a few heads myself to get to the wine rack. Boy, I can imagine myself in my chaise lounge on the verandah, sipping on a glass of that good drinkin’ while munching on Mimi’s tuna-and-walnut casserole and indulging in creamed mayo caramel for dessert. Why use Pepto-Bismol when Milford Valley can churn your stomach just fine?

Then you discriminating connoisseurs will appreciate La Marca wines in select varities. Mmmmmm, mmm, I can taste that merlot as I down my Jif Chocolate Peanut Butter sandwich at the Milford PTA Parents’ Night Out. And with Key Lime pie for dessert, at $15.99 a bottle, I’ll have to admit I’m glad Jaime and Keri aren’t around.

But wait, there’s more. Woodbridge Grenache and arugala just hits the spot after a long day on the phone asking the scout at The Bucket who looks like a true center at the drive-in booth. Top both with Mrs. Butterworths and you can pitch your flapjacks in the garbage disposal. For $9.99 a bottle, I’ll dump all my Eggos in my freezer box in the basement down the drain.

But don’t get namby-pamby on me and believe that Milford Beverage Warehouse is nothing but a wine-infested rat-hole for the quiche-and-brie crowd. We still have a wide selection of Budweiser, Coors, Michelob, Miller High Life, Falls City, Blatz, Schlitz, you name it, we got it and in mass quantities. Bring your Milford Beverage Warehouse Visa Card and name your multiple. Only your trunk will limit your 18-pack purchases.

In fact, our deal of the week is Maker’s Mark Whiskey at an eye-popping $22.99 a bottle. At that price, I’ll cram all the Eggos in my toaster and with that Mrs. Butterworth Syrup, Breakfast in Avalon is a cinch.

But come see for yourself and get your own Lance Sour Cream Crackers off the gum rack while going through the line to purchase your Milford Valley White Wine. I think you’ll agree, Heaven is just a sip away. Only at the Milford Beverage Warehouse.”

 

Gang, have at it. I’m going to check Dick Vitale’s Basketball Lexicon again. I had trouble with the word “deuce”. I thought Dickie V was talking about a card game. I want to make sure this time when he calls Susan Brady a “diaper dandy”, he’s not talking about Pampers.

 

“…and you shoot for the goal

I’ll check Gil’s closet with my crawdad pole…”

 

At The Bucket one night

“Hi, I’m Melba, and I’ll be your waitress. What can I get for you?”

“Have you ever thought about playing onnthe basketball team? We need a guard-forward.”

 

 

 

 

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.