This Week in Milford

June 25, 2018

Are We Sure These Kids Aren’t In Prison?

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Is it just me, or is everything spoken by Barry and Dafne utter nonsense? Am I reading Gil Thorp or Eugene Ionesco?

I get Panel One, sort of (except that they are in school now, but we’ve chewed all the meat off that bone). It’s awkward for Dafne to give Barry a straight answer so she just humors him instead of telling him that Del is a bitter, unrepentant a-hole.

That’s when it goes off the rails. What are you talking about Barry?? I told you he was sorry. Did Dafne’s non-answer indicate any contrition on Del’s part? We can chalk this up to Barry’s own self-delusion, I suppose.

Then the final panel is full of it. Mr. Bader told me to hug Barry for him. Seriously? He said that?

Dafne’s reaction to the request is equally baffling. But I can’t, it would seem dishonest. Dishonest? How about inappropriate? Nauseating? Maybe, at heart, the whole concept of “give so and so a hug for me” or “say hi for me” is kind of insincere, but I don’t know about dishonest.

Judging by how awkwardly the words are strung together, I’m just going to assume Rubin is as bored and fed up with this plot as the rest of us. I know Dafne’s classmates have zero interest in her story. Year round school really wears you out.

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June 23, 2018

Lately, I’ve Been Thinking Too Much Lately

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Oh, Thorpiverse, now stop it. Don’t blindside me with scenery and expect me to decipher it when it’s the weekend and I’m a recovering workaholic. And I haven’t gotten my cup of coffee yet from the neighborhood Taco Bell. Slow down, you’re goin’ too fast. You got to make the morning last.

I ain’t feelin’ groovy trying to set the record straight concerning the environs in P1. (Takes obligatory first swig of Taco Bell Maxwell House medium cup, spits it on the floor from microwave burns on the tongue.) We ARE in the Milford High School journalism room, Ms. Rizk taking a dump from the Buffalo Chicken Sandwich (with mayo and Louisiana Lightnin’ Hot Sauce) she ate at Wendy’s at the faculty lavoratory, and NOT in the second floor of the Milford Enquirer Complex.  Otherwise, Jimmy Olson and Lois Lane are in a useless conversation about Milford Athletics.

And evidently, Steve Luhm, when he’s not taking garbage to the dumpster at Milford High School, is running the buffer at 3:00 A.M. at the complex. You missed a spot, Steve. Yeah, right over there by the right desk leg. And you might wanna spray the place down with Roach-Pruf again. It has the Good Housekeeping Seal plus Paul Harvey adds it to his Folgers along with Coffee-Mate. And I found a roach running by one of the computers displaying an article on the Summer Modeling Show at Milford Fun ‘n’ Fashions.

Then in P2, there’s the Divine Miss Daffy interviewing Daddy Bader and this one’s pumpin’ up the volume, gang. Not sure how a high school rag that is Milford High School could turn her loose and subsequently watch her switch over to “Have you stopped beating your wife lately” questioning.

The COUP DE GRACE!!!!!! That pose Daddy Bader is displaying that is a facsimile of the one that one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence staged that appears on a 50′ x 74′ painting on a wall at your nearest neighborhood museum. Gang, I’ll allow you to insert your favorite Founding Father from the list of Signers of aforementioned Declaration. My money is on Benjamin Franklin but I’ll gladly accept Robert Morris, Samuel Adams, Richard Henry Lee, Button Gwinnett or any of the other 56 Signers in general. Yes, some of you might weigh in with Patrick Henry as Daddy Bader is just as vehement getting out of Sing Sing but, unfortunately, Henry wasn’t one of the Signers. Daddy Bader will have to select another statesman. And we better leave out Thomas Jefferson. He never went to prison and was a better writer than speaker. Plus he shaved every morning.

If ya wind up in prison because yore 4-wheel drive smashed into the meeting room where the Milford Women’s Christian Temperance Union Bar-B-Que Rally was being held and ya wuz 3 times over the limit, ya might be a redneck.

Gang, the title just came to me based upon the tete-a-tete between Lois and Jimmy in P1. And that David Allan Coe tune just won’t flush out of my head. Omigod, am I getting delusional? Will I wind up in a cell next to Daddy Bader? Well, at least I’ll know if he forgot to buy Gillette Atra at the Prison Canteen or if he’s just got a lot on his plate and shaving isn’t a priority. Give ’em to Daffy, Daddy Bader, if you’re not going to use them. They’re like a Poulan Weed-Eater for her hair.

“And Daffy sends a smash out to deep center. IT’S A GRAND SLAM!!!!!!! And the Mudlarks lead Oakwood, 11-0!!!!!!!!! That’s the third homer of the day for the journalist-3rd baseman. Man, Mimi must be using those batting machines at capacity. Daffy is just seeing watermelons up at the plate. Moose better be looking over his shoulder. And Coach T. better be taking notes from his wife. We have a pitching change for Oakwood so we’ll take a commercial break. This is Marty Moon with WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

In the locker room at Milford Athletic Club one day:

Coach Kaz, looking through his fuschia gym bag, is desperately seeking his Ben-Gay. He’s combed through  it twice and all he finds is his 2x Large jock strap, stop watch, Holiday Inn towel, Wal-Mart wash cloth, comb, earring extractor, Lava, Johnson’s No-More-Cryin’-Like-A-Wimp Shampoo, mail order blow dryer, but no Ben-Gay.

Coach Shaw, fresh from a victory against Mark Trail in handball, inquires “What’s up, Kaz?”

“Aw, dammit, I can’t find my Ben-Gay.”

“Are you still using that sissy stuff? Bubba, you’re gonna smell like a candy cane when you go back to teach class.”

“Shaw, I gotta put something on my back muscles. You know how edgy I get when I feel like I’m constipated and I don’t have time to make it to Milford 7-11 to buy a $5.00 tube before my Intermediate Badminton class.”

“Kaz, you need to try Sportscreme. It has an active ingredient, thenobizonol-acetylate-disulfide-bicarbonate-soda that kills that Ben-Gay odor and soothes and massages your muscles better ‘n’ a vibrator.”

“Okay, so it’ll keep me limber and loose. But you sure I’m not going to overpower my class with that mediciney smell?”

“Bubba, I killed a skunk out in Milford Fish & Wildlife Area and later stuck a Sportscreme tube straight up its butt and gave it a good enema before I had to clean out its innards. Sportscreme snuffed out the stink dead in its tracks. Man, that was some good eatin’ later on, not having to chew the meat with that stench up my nostrils.”

Later, in Dr. Pearl’s office for Kaz’s annual teacher evaluation

“No workout today?”

“Yes, I was pumpin’ iron all morning with special emphasis on my pecs. Why?”

“You usually smell like Ben-Gay.”

“Not any more. The smell went in the same cell as Daddy Bader.”

“Wonderful!!!!! Now, Coach, we think you should use more visual aids in your Lifetime Bowling class…”

Gang, it’s your turn. I am still wondering how Stevie Ray Vaughan wound up in prison but maybe I’m getting old, I don’t know. Anyway, you Guys rock.

“I know no North nor South nor East nor West…”

“Warden, I’m adding 5 years onto his sentence. He keeps insisting he’s Henry Clay.”

June 2, 2018

Bombs Away, Kevin – er, Barry

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Milford, USA

June 2, 2018

 

Head Baseball Coach

Vacuum Cleaner Repair School

Sucksville, USA

 

Dear Head Baseball Coach:

You better come out here and get this slugger. He just changed his launch angle and he’s hit four home runs in five games and he strikes out once in a while. His home run trot is so good that he has to ask his teammates if he needs to slow it down a little. All he does is adjust his launch angle a sixteenth of an inch, then gives the ball a ride, which leaves his bat looking like a little white bullet, over the fence by 40 feet, easy. He’s a big, 18- or 19-year-old fellow like I told you before (I think), and if you don’t hurry up someone will sign him and he will be the best sluggerer that ever lived. He hits harder than Elmer Vargas or Bryce Larkin ever did, and his hair is greasier than Andrew Gregory’s. He knows where he’s hitting because if he didn’t there would be dead bodies strewn all over Milford.

Oh, wait, scratch that. I was thinking of my second baseman’s old man. Anyway, get out here and check him out before he changes his mind and decides he wants to be a quarterback, or a fullback, or an astronaut or something.  Gotta run – the local sports jock’s got a case of Johnnie Walker waiting for me for pulling his nuts out of the fire and saving his job.

Your pal,

Gil Thorp

Head Baseball Coach (such as it is)

Milford High School Mudlarks

 

*apologies nameless Idahoan

May 30, 2018

Making Things Worse

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I’m struggling to grasp anyone’s motivations here other than, perhaps, Ma Bader’s. Well, I suppose Barry’s motivation is that he’s a hot headed moron* with self esteem issues but that doesn’t make for the most compelling protagonist. At least not as written here…

Bonus points:

P1: Ah, the rare ANDS brand laptop, disfavored by Milford teens who prefer |||| brand computers. I’ll leave speculation as to the nature of the mysterious foreground display to our wonderful commenters.

P2: I’m digging the Bader’s mismatched chairs at their tiny kitchen table underneath the chandelier they stole from a TGI Friday’s. Also, Steve Luhm has clearly been moonlighting.

P3: I’m sure I’ve floated some truly idiotic ideas in front of my mom over the years but I don’t think I’ve ever given her occasion to give me such an exaggerated (and presumably genuine) stinkeye.

* Seriously, ‘enoblers’?

Metapost: As this year’s Memorial Day celebrations recede into memory, please bear in mind the veterans who surely number amongst this count.

May 24, 2018

Pissy Faced Howdy Doody Is Pissed

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Barry Bader certainly is not one to take responsibility for his own actions, is he?  Gotta wonder how far back Barry’s chain of causation goes.   Does he thank his old man for getting thrown into the stony lonesome, or that stupid lawyer for not working out a better deal for his old man, or that ugly cow of a judge for hearing his case, or that second driver hanging on to old technology, or Boo Radley for being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Credit where credit’s due, I suppose.  In her never-ending quest to promote her self-perceived journalism career by digging up dirt on her schoolmates, Dafne has the presence of mind to see that Barry needs help.  Exploiting that need for your own self-aggrandizement? That’s not how therapy works!

Went with the color version of the strip today to confirm that Dafne’s had an eye color change (and acquired a base tan) from last season. Colored contacts?

May 7, 2018

Rizk Averse

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Milford Idiots, Steve Luhm's Ghost Mops These Floors — nedryerson @ 6:02 am

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I should just recycle a post from last May when Dafne DaFonte was looking into the past of pitcher Ryan Van Auken. There’s no place for a school paper to be intruding into the personal lives of students. But Ms. Rizk seems willing to allow Dafne to pursue a Barry Bader story. She didn’t say anything when Dafne summoned cub reporter Jay Bhatia into the Trumpet office to enlist him to dig into Barry current state of mind.

I’m just going to say it. Ms. Rizk is the culprit here. Dafne had a story about the district budget, but Ms. Rizk was all “BOOOOR-ing!” and asked for more juicy stuff. Sure, school board meetings are boring and budgets are dry subjects, but shouldn’t student journalists be learning how to cover these types of things? Also, if you want juicy headlines, isn’t it possible that that Heenan guy on the school board is up to more shenanigans? Maybe Ms. Rizk COULD be okay with another student approaching Barry Bader and asking if he wants to share his story, but if Barry is not willing to share anything, she should not be on board with students digging around, involving other students.

I don’t know why this one bugs me so much, but that’s my story. Are there going to be any actual sports here?

 

May 4, 2018

A Who Friday

Its a metapost today as I honor the Cubs newest millionaire with a classic from Roger Daltry and company. Feel free to comment on the actual strip while youre singing.

 

Yu Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

Yu Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

 

He walked into the Cubs clubhouse with a speaker from Japan.

He said Theo would pay him several million for the batters to walk away

But all the hitters said his fastball was so straight it wouldnt bend

And the  fans were throwing back every pitch that ever left his hand.

 

Well who are Yu? Darvish.

Yu Yu Yu Yu.

I really wanna know Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu.

Tell me who are Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu.

Cause I really wanna know Yu? Darvish.

Yu Yu Yu Yu.

 

He took the bus back out of town

Back to the Iowa pen.

He felt a little like a circus clown

with an interpreter speakin.

He stretched back and he pitched up

And looked back at the ball in play.

Eleven runs on the green board

God why ain’t I still in LA???

 

Well who are Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

Oh, who are Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

Come on tell me who are Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

Alright, who the fuck are Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

 

He knows there’s an ivy wall

Where balls fall from the trees.

His heart is like a broken bat

His ERA is in the teens.

He crawls into a sewer hole

And still receives the boos.

How can he measure up to Twenty Sixteen

When all he does is lose???

 

Well who are Yu? Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

I really wanna know Yu Darvish

Yu Yu Yu Yu

I really wanna know

Oh I really wanna know

Come on tell me who are Yu Yu Yu AAHHHHHH YU!!!

 

April 22, 2018

Vaya con carne, Martín Luna

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This has to have gone down as the Gil Thorp arc with the least amount of actual sports action ever. It also has to be near the top of arcs requiring the greatest suspension of disbelief. On top of all we’ve had to choke down around Marty, Pirate Boy and the Milford Pirate Network (does one station constitute a network?), now we’re supposed to believe that WDIG has at least three studios? Couldn’t at least one of them held Marty’s substitute, re-creating the basketball games Ronald Reagan style while Marty was suspended?

Marty played his traditional role of designated heel, between making light of the Padillas’ life situation, the gratuitous Mexican food references (intended to woo a potential sponsor but interpreted as “Puerto Ricans/Mexicans are all alike and their cultures all the same”) and the mispronunciation/pissy over-pronunciation in response to criticism. But really, Gil doesn’t come off as much less of a schmuck either. True, he couldn’t have anticipated the tack the MPN took on covering Milford hoops – nor Marty’s blue response to them – but he did in effect goad them on to goad Marty on. His ham-handed efforts at negotiation showed how little he thinks of Milford girls’ basketball and required us to connect the dots and assume Marty’s suspension would turn into termination if Marty didn’t accede.

Finally, Gil’s little dig at Marty in the last panel (yet another in which characters depart via a doorway), meant to remind Marty of the Boricua culture of which he is so ignorant, comes off a bit dickish as well. I’ll admit I like the idea of Marty as Scooby-Doo villain, but wouldn’t that mean he’s actually somebody else under a rubber mask? My money’s on Dr. Pearl.

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