“Okay Tattoo guy. Mr. Thorp has done nothing but sniff sweaty jock straps his whole life. You were in the army!”
“Yeah, dink knob kiwi kiwi, jibba jabba sheila krikey, broaden me kangaroo down, bloke, broaden me kangaroo down. You ready for that snake on your face yet?”
Romp – Cortez Beecher not just blocking shots, but palming the ball as it comes off the shooter’s hand and smashing it back into their face.
“All right, maybe we’ve got a chance at the conference title. Hey, you, foreground guy on my left, didn’t you have a tattoo on that arm the last time we assumed this pose?”
“Yeah, it was just a stick-on one. I’m afraid of Kiwis. Hey weren’t you making a jerk-off gesture with your other fist back then?”
“Yeah, I like to switch hands sometimes to ‘spice things up’.”
“Hey, aren’t we all on the opposite side. Is this a mirror universe?”
“No, it’s just an optical illusion created by this new tile I had installed. Don’t think too much about it or you’ll give yourself Dengue fever or something.”
“Hey kid, what did I tell you about the optical illusion thing? Go stare at that Marcus Uzilevsky print back there and see if it helps. Do we have anybody else on this team that’s any good between you and the bald kid?”
“Parker is pretty good Coach.”
“Yeah, we’ve had enough of him lately. I’ll find somebody. Good luck, Lincoln. Hey why don’t you wrap a hot towel around your head.”
Ha, ha, Marty Moon unsuccessfully smells his finger and Ric Devore sucks.
Ah, it’s taken longer than usual but Gil has finally gotten into what he does best: convincing someone to do all his coaching for him for free! (Really, why would we expect anything different at this point?) In addition, it seems he’s wisely selected a guy named Chip (Schatz?) to do the short-range kicking.
…which is followed by what I can only assume is Gil having a stroke in the second panel here. With the bizarre offer of “manager shagging” and some odd-ass facial twitching it’s definite that something’s not quite right here. Which is confirmed by the third panel…”stay focused”? “game plan”? Was stroke-riddled Gil replaced by a robot?
To help prove our suspicions that Marty stays locked in his crate at all times, today we’re treated to his appearance in the exact same crate as last game, even though that game was at home and this one is away at Jeffrey J. Jeffworth Memorial field (aka “The Jeff Jeff”).
Perhaps we should start a new conspiracy theory that Marty Moon actually died two years ago and he’s only being kept in the comic via low-tech Hollywood trickery, kind of like Bruce Lee or Livia Soprano.
Wait, who kicked that extra point?
Hey, did anyone think that Wildcat Maris was just a minor digression in this season’s football plot and that we wouldn’t have to go down the over-involved parent road again? Yeah it’s a fools paradise. Surprise! The Wildcat is the guy proud of the huge holes his Bobby is opening.
So to get Wildcat out of his face, Gil falls back on some sort of liability concern? Yes, this a legitimate point for the real world, but in Gil World? Okay, I’ll allow it, grudgingly, but I’m sure Gil is just bluffing. Maybe in a few days he’ll call Dr. Pearl and ask, “Hey boss, we do have some kind of insurance for the football team, don’t we? Hey do you think it would cover an exploding eyeball? What? Oh, no reason, I was just wondering.”
The moral of this story: Parenting in Milford sucks.
Wow, look at the rapid fire delivery of the beginning of the season! Bonfire! Coin toss! Touchdown!
Okay I can match that with my commentary: Is that Sackodog from Prep Spotlight? Did that guy eat Steve the Disco Referee? The Prefab Pressbox, one million sold.
“Poor, poor Mark and his human problems.”
“Gil, take that shit-eating grin off your face, at least until he’s further down the street.”
“Oh that’s right, I ‘care’ about people. I just find the whole parent-child dynamic humorous and puzzling…Having never been a parent or a child myself.”
“Wait…er, didn’t we used to…?”
“Now, now, Mimi. On to my selfish issues: Will you coach for free for me this year?”
“Only if this strip acknowledges a women’s fall sport!”
“Screw that, I’m off to repost that Craigslist ad.”
We hereby interrupt the standing-around fantasticness of football practice to bring you… some crazy-ass crap!
Booster meeting? And who’s there to boost the team (Go Udlarks!, apparently…) Why it’s none other than Phil and the Milford crowd template. And who’s the lead booster? Why it’s none other than the infamous Wildcat Maris! Who’s that you ask? Who cares? All I know is his wife, Cougar Maris is going to be teaming up with Mrs. Drunklark, Kay “Sloppy Joe” Morgan, Peggy Wyche and Jolene Raptor in the new season of Real Housewives of Milford. I can’t wait.
In breaking news of the boring…
- Micah Huang still sucks as a pitcher. Why don’t they just let Slim Chance pitch every game, it’s not like the team plays more than once a week anyway.
- Marty Moon is still in his crate at the football stadium talking about baseball. He follows along pretty well for being drunk, in the wrong place and keeping his eyes closed the whole time.
- Wow, the recap of the game is even MORE uninteresting than the game itself. So why not feature a panel on it at joEY’s PIZzA (aNd DIScOUnT WiNDoW lETTerS)?
Oh hey the big protest rally that we’re just now hearing about? Yeah that was distracting me too…Say, here’s a better idea, why don’t we all just stop caring about the welfare of others, like the so-called protagonist of the strip does! Since boys are so oblivious they don’t need any guidance, and girls, well that’s Mimi’s problem to ignore, let’s just fire all the teachers, leaving room for Gil to finally sit in the only chair in the teacher’s lounge, plus then he can hoard all the personalized mugs those worthless educators leave behind.
Blah blah blah baseball blah blah blah whatever. Wait, what’s this, Gil and Kaz going out to get their drink on in some craptastic dive? Now you’re talking! There’s gotta be at least one drunken lout in there or possibly some grab-assy truckers (and not just name checking Bill Monroe or Patsy Cline and some scandalous underage beer drinking). Please oh please oh please.
*Panel three is one of the more amusing instances of recycled art that I can recall. Check out the panel from last year when it was just Kelly and Kaz heading to some other sleazy joint. Too bad Whigham paid enough attention to eliminate Kelly’s hand from
Kaz’s Gil’s chest.
In case you blacked out for most of 2010 (if so, good for you!), Slim Pickens and the Rejects were the cornerstone of last spring’s boring-ass plot. Not only is Rubin dragging these guys out of the dumpster this year, but Whigham is already half-assing it too, recycling half of last year’s art. What’s the over/under on the first mention of BACKYARD TIRE FIRE?
“Holy crap, Coach, if I wasn’t so high, I’d swear your name was written in bold letters across random items on your desk.”
“Well, if I wasn’t so drunk, I’d tell you my stolen baseball trophy completes the sentence, because it has the word ‘SUCKS’ engraved on it. Now remind me again…which burnout are you?”
“So I don’t think I imagined it, Kaz…There I was, having taken enough peyote that I was totally believing there was a goddamn bay window in my office. Some kid…um, Slim Fit was it? Well he wanders in, and asks if he can show up to the same number of games and practices that I attend each spring. Naturally, I thought that meant he didn’t want to play at all. But then he starts talking about a BACKYARD TIRE FIRE, so I ran out of the room screaming and then called 911. Anyway…now that I’m here, can you look up Rule 1 of baseball on that fancy computer of yours? I’m pretty sure it’s either ‘Each player must play ’em all.’ or ‘No fat chicks.’ Either way, I’ll also need to borrow your sweats…my clothes disintegrated in that imaginary tire fire.”
“Uh, wow, that was a lot of trippin’ balls talk. But since nobody seems to care that we’re recycling all our panels now, let’s just pick this up again tomorrow.”
As an April Fool’s Day joke, Mimi attempts to have sex with Gil. Unfortunately, he ruins it as always with his constant thoughts of high school jocks.
Mysteries of the Moment:
- Who the hell is Kayla talking to?
- Will Lini get to his ventriloquism gig in the Catskills in time?
- Will Whigham ever draw Marty Moon again? (On the plus side, today’s rehash is from one of my recent favorite strips, featuring Stretch Armstong attack!)
Mystery of the Moment: Why will Milford never make the playdowns in any sport ever again?
- Gil is too drunk to care.
- Ever since Gil acquired Clambake’s “Baseball Participant” trophy (which appears to be slowly shrinking), he has more than enough shiny metal objects on his desk for one decade.
- Rubin will never learn to pace a story properly, thus making playdown plots impossible. (“Well kids, we won all our games this year! Unfortunately the championship game happened two months ago…The district just didn’t have the heart to tell us.”)
- All of the above.
I will ignore the fact that Lini has gone to Gil for advice. The entire episode is unrealistic enough…I mean, how does Gil even know the phrase “cyber-bully”? At least there’s some realism here: Gil nods off in mid-advice again.
Since there’s nothing more interesting to talk about, the mystery of the moment for your discussion:
- Which 1980s character has Lini stolen his wardrobe from? I’m going to guess Joey Lawrence.