Today I Learned Privilege Is a Thing in Milford

****THIS IS THE SATURDAY POST****

Lemme get this straight. Doug Guthrie decides when he blows off practices and when he suddenly unmisses games there are no consequences from the coaching staff. He speeds through town just as snow beings to fall – from a clear blue sky no less. (I know that when it rains while the sun shines, the devil is beating his wife; what’s he doing when it snows while the sun shines?) He gets pulled over and let go by a deferential Milford cop who asks him pretty please to slow down. Let’s not even bother to guess whether Doug’s self-assessment of his driving skills is sarcastic or not and cut to the chase: just who is Doug’s father anyway?

Could it be there’s finally a man in Milford who is so powerful and influential that even Gil Thorp dare not cross him? Is he the Thorpiverse’s version of Skip Barber or Bob Bondurant? If Pops Guthrie is so wealthy and has such an in with the po-po, why doesn’t he slide them some coin? This poor Milford cop is under-dressed (no coat in the snow) and appears to be driving a Crown Vic Police Interceptor that is ten years old at the newest.

We’ve been wandering almost rudderless for two months now. This latest development has the potential to be more interesting than the social butterfly who can’t play defense stroking the PA announcer with CP’s ego, or why the fire hydrant with a chip on her shoulder cares about any of it. Of course, this means we probably will hear no more about Pops Guthrie until we find out he’s paid off Chief Lind after Doug does donuts on Dr. Pearl’s lawn.

Speaking of donuts on lawns: Doug may own a GTO, but if he owned a Camaro you know it’d be bitchin’.

In Which Gil Thorp Finally Acknowledges the Existence of a Virus

No, not that virus, though you gotta admit that social distancing would be a plausible rationale for the seating arrangements in the Milford gym. Today we get a view into the inner workings of the Thorpian Stasi in action.

First, Gil walks in on the aftermath of Kaz shooting up on his desk instead of in what looks to be an Aeron chair but is probably a knockoff. How else do you explain that overdeveloped right arm with veins a-poppin’?

Then we catch Gil repeating the story with his chief informant Mimi. That Gil’s players had begun to show up to support Mimi’s team wasn’t enough for her; in her mind, they should have to do it as a unit. No place for players to sit with their friends on the team and to not sit with guys they wouldn’t hang with outside of football. Gil of course buys into that and decides he needs to get to the heart of the matter. How? Not by actually talking to the two guys who are actually at the heart of the matter, but to put two guys on the hot seat who have been the exact opposite of rivals for the past two seasons.

Finally we find out how Gil “squeezed” the intel out of Macy and Roh: via ungloved prostate exams with zero lube. Why is Gil so angry at these two? Did they not drop trou fast enough for him? Chance and Charlie aren’t the droids you’re looking for, Gilberto, and they’re not the ones who are taking sides in this controversy. EDIT: Alert TWIMer Downpuppy has pointed out that the pair getting reamed out by Gil in P3 are in fact the dueling quarterbacks Rappson and Thayer. Once Gil is finished with his unlubed prostate exams, these two will be singing Kumbayah (h/t hitorque) and playing rock paper scissors for first crack at Corinna. Does Gil know that these two have been actively recruiting teammates to take sides against each other? If not, this is Gil’s problem to solve, not the QBs. By calling them out of class and raking them over the coals, Gil will have sown fear, uncertainty and doubt among every Mudlark football player. That won’t win the Valley but it’ll keep the proles in line and, after all, that’s what the Thorps are all about.

Yes I was named after Tiger Woods

And on we go with the volleyball/football games attended by football players/nobody.

And I thought watching people count votes was boring.

Even Corrinna is tired of the routine, telling Terry/Will she already heard what they had to say. Hey gang, I heard election analysis for 4 hours Tuesday and goshdarnit I turned on the telly Wednesday morning expecting a result, only to see the same talking head on NBC telling me how many counties in Pennsylvania needed to vote for Trump/Biden so he/he could win that state and solidify his path to 270. I mean, really? I swear he had the same suit on all night. He was actually a good listen and engaged the audience, but — my god– how long does it take to count votes??? Arent we in the computer age now? I knew the mail-in ballots were gonna open a whole new can of worms on Day 1. I WORK for the post office. (thank you for your compliments on a job well done for the most part by us) But mail is fickle; every so often something gets lost, and we’re dealing with a shitload of ballots here. Are you really gonna trust us to get ALL the ballots where theyre supposed to go on time? We cant help it if Joe Procrastinator doesnt mail his in early enough right? They’ll get this done eventually, but if there’s ever a case for 2 men in 1 White House, this may be the time. It’ll take a helleva push to get Donald J. Trump out of his house. If they go to court over anything who knows how long that will take? January 20 will be here soon enough gang. This election sure exposed our ludicrous system of voting. How many rules in how many states? We have more cans of worms here then a biology classroom.

A Sort of Homecoming

In case you didn’t pick up on the long hair in the dugout yesterday (or thought it was a Kevin Pelwecki tribute), the Milford @ Goshen game is in softball, not baseball. It was one of the Lady Mudlarks who called out Mike from the stands. Unnamed – and not particularly visually distinctive under the earflaps – it must be Phoebe, the only Milford girl who showed an inkling of interest in The Mayor and who, as the recipient of The Mayor’s attention, was an unwitting spectator to the spiral of events that led to his expulsion.

Nevertheless, she’s surprised and happy to see him, so she spontaneously gives him a hug. Remember spontaneously giving people hugs? Yeah, me too. Is that a butter knife in Mike’s pocket or is he just glad to see Phoebe? Leave it to Mimi to rain on this little parade. Wonder how much she knows about the situation, especially how much she knows about how little Gil did in Mike’s defense.

What other reason does Mike have to hang out and watch his old schoolmates play ball? That world is behind him; even his ex-coach called him an idiot for even thinking about trying to recapture it.  So unless the ex-Mayor is plotting some kind of revenge he really shouldn’t be torturing himself with reminders of his past. That includes Phoebe; after all, didn’t we just see an equally cute blonde on the Valley Modified campus a couple of days ago? Now, where are the brake lines on the Lady Mudlarks’ activity bus?

From hero to zero quicker than you can say “Um… sure.”

So, yeah, this did turn out to be about the kind of idiot that brings a knife and a jar of peanut butter into a classroom. Mike didn’t bring the butter knife to try out for the Milford High Drama Club’s presentation of Sweeney Todd, we know that much. Neither did he get it from the MHS cafeteria; it only serves gruel finger foods that don’t require cutting.

Now it’s time for a trip down the corridors of zero tolerance, led not by the passive-aggressive snitch Rooney who got the ball rolling but by Gildeaux and his Hamburger Helper helping hand oven mitt. If I’m The-Soon-to-be-recalled-Mayor I’m telling Mister Coach Thorp to take that mitt off me and get on the Hadley V. Baxendale hot line, stat. She works wonders at getting kids around school regulations, or so I’ve heard. She’s also probably tired of sheltering in place with Jaquan Case, whose NBA season has been suspended.

If only the Thorpiverse’s Michigan reflected today’s reality Michigan. Forget the butter knife and Nutso; Knappe could probably show up on campus in his best Blain’s Farm & Fleet camo toting an AR-15 and not only not get in trouble but get called “a very good person” in the process. (Yeah, I went there. – t)

 

 

 

That Peanut Butter Isn’t the Only Thing Nutso Around Here

Looks like Gil Thorp has a new sponsor, Nutso Peanut Butter. Wonder if Nutso’s from the same people who brought you Nutboy. Either the Nutso mascot is foreshadowing Phoebe and The Mayor’s next encounter by making his O face or else he’s reenacting Mr. Peanut’s fall to his death.

Other random observations:

1. Peanut butter on a bagel is not that unusual. Then again this is Milford, home of Schultz’s Polynesian Garden, so anything beyond white bread might be scandalous.
2. Dunno about La Bus, but Le Bus is a Philadelphia bakery of long standing that’s facing the same troubles many small businesses in this country are right now.
3. Where is that bagel, exactly? They’re not that hard to draw.
4. What kind of idiot brings peanut butter into a classroom in this century? (Don’t answer that.)
5. What kind of idiot brings a knife into a classroom in this century? Not one who’s in the class with Chance Macy.
6. Either that’s an awkward facepalm* or Phoebe’s fixin’ to break into an awkward Batusi.
7. Is that the late Kenny Rogers or Dr. Krieger from Archer teaching this Southern Gothic Literature course?
8. If Flannery O’Connor’s name is invoked, can peacocks be far behind?
9. If peacocks are involved, can rally hippos be far behind? (Considering Jamila’s still on the team, I’d give it even odds.)

 

*”Facepalm” might be a good tag to add to our “Categories & Tags” list. Will give it some thought.

Short Seasons Mean Less Coaching

“Winter is over.

We’re playing outside. Any-

thing is possible.”

 

Oh the irony

Of Gil’s haiku when we all

Must shelter in place

 

Meanwhile in Milford

Marjie Ducey waves her pen

Ready for roll call

 

But first a softball

Question for the Gilmeister:

Best opening day?

 

Football means the most

To Gil; it gives him more time

To play Mary Worth

 

Then a reminder:

Sometimes it snows in April

Yeah, we miss Prince too

 

“Mimi and I washed our hands. Here, Alexa, smell ’em.”

Well, rob went there yesterday. I was beginning to wonder how long we at TWIM could go without making mention of the current global crisis, one that could end up making the crisis that gave us the Padillas story arc a couple of seasons ago look relatively minor in comparison.

As I write a good many of us may be working from home, either by choice or by force. Some of us may already have been working from home, but travel restrictions may be keeping us from visiting our clients or customers. Rob works for the USPS, so I doubt working from home is an option for him. (Be careful out there, rob.) Some of us may see our work cut back or lost entirely. Too soon to tell.

Less than a month ago I was planning on playing hooky taking the day off from work and going into DC to see something no one has seen in ninety-five years: a major league baseball team that calls Washington home raise a world championship banner. Then the Nats announced they wouldn’t be selling single game tickets for Opening Day, that the tix would only be available as part of a season ticket plan or partial plan. (Ah yes, the sweet smell of success.) Okay, whatevs, I’ll hit StubHub. It might be another ninety-five years before it happens again.

In the words of Gilda Radner’s Emily Litella, “Never mind.” MLB cancelled the rest of spring training and postponed the start of the season by at least two weeks. The NBA, NHL, MLS, and Premier League have suspended their seasons; the XFL (look it up) canceled its season outright. The Masters, PGA and LPGA tours, and most motorsports events have been postponed. The NCAA has cancelled all remaining winter and spring sports championships; any March Madness we see will not be on a basketball court.

Where I live the schools have been closed for at least the next two weeks. The SATs scheduled for today have been postponed. High school sports have been cancelled for the remainder of the academic year, including the basketball playoffs. I guess it’s a good thing Rubin and Whigham have helped prepare us for our immediate sports-free future by turning away from sports to a few weeks of he-said, she-said about academic cheating.

Just wait until the spring story arcs start in a week or two. They’ll make the Thorpiverse look even more like a fantasy land than it already does. Stay safe, TWIMers.

Update (5:25pm EDT): In all the gloom and doom I forgot to wish you all a happy Pi Day. I took time out of my day to bake a pie – an old school Florida favorite, sour orange pie. Here’s a pic so that you may enjoy vicariously. My meringue styling skills could be better.