Let’s leave aside the mysterious periodic relationship between Aaron, his mother and Milford basketball for a moment and get back to something we really haven’t talked about enough.
Someone needs to explain to me what the hell is going on with Aardvark’s hair because between panels one and two it is not at all clear to me where it is shorn nor where it has been left to grow out.
Bonus point: Panel two is pretty darn awesome. Not sure why it couldn’t have been done across the final two panels as the drawing of Marty doesn’t add anything.
As Ned would say, “It’s Madison Time!”
Have you ever seen a basketball court where the free throw lane is three times as wide as the tipoff circle? No, that can’t be the three-point line since the lines for the lane are coming straight down from it with no top of the key in between. The basket doesn’t exactly line up, either. Follow that up with the weirdly foreshortened right arm of the Madison hooper and Aaron Aagard’s exploding forelock and the visuals are a bit much to take today.
Why am I expounding on this minutiae? Because it will come as no surprise on Monday when Quadruple A (channeling his inner El Hechizado in P3), missing his mommy, bricks the easy inside shot and sends Milford falling from the ranks of the undefeated. After that, we’ll spend the rest of next week trying to find out What’s Eating Aaron Aagard.
After four excruciating days of exposition that Aaron Aagard’s girlfriend (and not his drug of choice) is named Molly, and after Gil has thrown Ken “Encyclopedia” Brown and Mike “I Don’t Have a Catchy Sleuthy Nickname” Granger off Aaron’s scent, and after Gil has had an extended expositional chat in the risers with Aaron, we’re now being led down the path of assuming that Aaron’s inconsistent on-court performance has something to do with his mom.
So now it’s our turn to engage in rampant speculation. Is Mother Aagard under house arrest for some criminal activity of her own? Doubtful; that son-of-a-judge Ken Brown would’ve already known about it. Agoraphobic? Possibly, but Aaron’s “…why you don’t come to more games” implies that she comes to some games. (Not as many as Milford’s infamous Sign Man; if we could read that Woodstock scribble of his, maybe that would give us a clue.) Bad hair day? Also possible; check out those roots on Mom. Break out the Preference by L’Oréal, girlfriend!
We do know that Mother Aagard has to work late sometimes, so that’s a plausible excuse. As some TWIMers have speculated, it could be that she suffers from some sort of drug-related problem; with all the talk of drugs in this arc leading us nowhere thus far, they have to be somebody’s Chekov’s gun. I’m sure Aaron will explain all as soon as Gil banishes him to the bench tomorrow. Talk amongst yourselves.
Musical inspiration for today’s post title:
Did I do this right? I’m kinda rusty at this blog posting.
Putting quadruple-A in for a Pantheon of Hair nomination now that it’s clearly the case that its posture is proportional to his perceived performance.
I tried, and failed, to line up all of the high fives with the arms in panel three. Nevermind that, however, because what is the deal with AAAA’s left arm? I think this is the first time I’ve used the ‘big arms’ tag but there it is.
Mike and Ken continue to kibitz about their duty as friends/teammates/fellow humans to address Aaron Aagard’s apparent fondness for pharmaceutical alternatives to the traditional fun easily obtained burgers at The Bucket and get-togethers at Pete De Windt’s place. Have they figured it out?
Now, for a panel of basketball and further examination of Aaron’s signature haircut. Well, there’s another meaningless game fragment for this season’s record book.
Quickly, we set the stage for Mike Granger’s intervention. He’s got to be sharp. Aaron has a date with Molly and he never likes to keep her waiting. Oh Mike Granger, you’re so square. Are you sure you’re up for this?
I’m trying to get a read on the emotions going through Dory’s mind as he dialogues with The Secret Pelwecki. It seems like a mix of incredulity and contempt with a very strong overtone of panic as he realizes that he’s sitting next to the latest Milfordian boy to succumb to delusions of tank town grandeur.
I was so taken by following The Sec-Pel’s train of thought, that I almost didn’t notice that he was making this pitch to Gil and Kaz in panel two. Gil looks like he’s about to fall over backwards drunk while Kaz is reminiscing about his bouncer days as he flexes intimidatingly in an attempt to shoo Kevin away.
Meanwhile, in panel three… Uh, hey, let’s all just pretend panel three didn’t happen.
The Secret Pelwecki’s Other Ball just dropped from the arm of the Oakwood running back, giving the Mudlarks’ sputtering offense a shot at getting back in the game. Leading with his head helped Kevin jar the ball loose, but I’m sure that’s not the way Gil wants to see his quarterback use his head.
Speaking of quarterbacks, new assistant trainer Heather Burns has her own opinions about Milford’s. Could it be that the mediocre soccer player doesn’t want to use Rick Scott to sidle her way to becoming the Mudlarks’ placekicker, but to become their quarterbacks coach? Wasn’t one Bobby Howry enough this decade? Or could it be that she actually wants to become the quarterback herself? By the way, whatever happened to Jarrod Hale?
Pantheon of Hair Dept.: That bowl cut with the keyhole bangs that Whigham is so fond of drawing and that would not look out of place in an Our Gang Comedy.