All About Shoes

Hey kids! Today you’re gonna get an installment of teenchy’s True Life Stories!

Back in the day when dinosaurs roamed the earth your old pal teenchy drove a ’66 Ford Mustang. These days ’66 Mustangs are considered classics almost on a par with Doug Guthrie’s GTO, but when I owned one it was a just a nice used car. While I was away at college I had a minor fender bender with it, requiring the replacement of the left front fender, the front bumper, and a headlight bulb. Not long after the repairs were done I drove back home to see the folks and let them see how well the repairs had been done. I brought a friend with me and that Saturday night we barhopped. On the way back home, much like ol’ Doug here, I saw the flashing blue lights behind me; unlike Doug, I thought I might be spending the night somewhere other than in my own bed.

Instead of “License and registration, please,” the first words the state trooper drawled to me were “Son, who painted yer car?” Stunned, I asked him to repeat himself, whereupon he proceeded to admire my Mustang’s paint job and its overall condition. I sheepishly admitted to the recent accident and repair and told him the name of the shop that had done the work. The trooper replied, “Well, they did a nice job, but I believe they forgot to hook up yer headlight when they finished up. I’m giving yew a warning and telling yew to hook them wires back up when it gets daylight in the mornin’. Yew’l see my name and badge number on that warning; if yew ever want to sell this car call the barracks and ask for me.”

Sure enough, the next morning I popped the hood and saw the left headlight connector and wiring harness dangling on the inner fender just below the sealed beam unit. I eventually sold the ‘stang but I never did call that trooper, though.

I’m guessing Doug’s having a similar experience with old Officer Wilbon here, but I’m a little confused about the tires comment. The Flowmasters probably let the Tri-Power 389 breathe a bit better but top end is as much a function of gearing as it is of horsepower. Doug might be implying that if the Goat were to run a little faster, he might have to replace its shoes with a set having a higher speed rating. Finding tires in the correct size for older cars is getting harder and more expensive by the day as manufacturers focus production on higher-volume sizes for current models. How that factors into Doug’s decision isn’t clear, and neither we nor Tom Muench have time for that, so off we go to Milford High and hoops practice.

Sorry for rambling on about my youth and the vagaries of classic car tires, but I figure it had to be at least as interesting as watching Tom and Doug awkwardly run laps for being late to practice. (Doug was so distracted he put his sneakers on the wrong feet.) Gil must take comfort knowing the hardwood is one place Clan Guthrie doesn’t lord it over him.

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’.

Shouldn’t You Be Playing the Game Instead of Talking to the PA Guy?

“Vic, my man! What happened to you? I thought we were cool. Bros before, uh, not bros.”

“Well, Tessi Milton made it pretty hard, if you know what I mean and I think you do.”

After the past couple of strips this comes as a surprise. I was sure Vic was gonna honor the age-old tradition of giving Milford girls’ teams short shrift compared to the boys’ teams. Wonder if we’ll find out just how Tessi was able to coerce Vic to call the Lady Mudlarks’ games. Somehow I don’t think root beer was involved.

Hey, but that pep talk Vic gave Doug is doing wonders for Doug’s confidence. Not only is he not moping around, he feels relaxed enough to have this little chat with Vic in what appears to be the middle of a game and while he’s in possession of the ball. This stunt should get Doug kicked off the team faster than you can say “Michael Schumacher,” but who knows given how welcoming Gil was when Doug told him he was scrubbing a race so he could play against Oakwood.

edit: Alert (or, at least, less fixated on the idea that Doug is doing something wrong than I) TWIMer Hitorque has pointed out that this convo is probably going on during pregame warmups, which makes far more logical sense than my hot take. Either way, how Tessi convinced Vic to cover the girls’ games still remains a mystery.

Made You Look!

Today marks the day that the Vic Doucette Show starts to go off the rails as Vic ignores Gil’s directive that “the basketball comes first.” As much as we might’ve expected it with the ham-handed frankfurter references, Vic will not be singing “Sweet Transvestite” between quarters. Instead he’s launched his own unauthorized contest and a tentative foray into identity theft. Gonna be tough to make out all those vitals on those illegible Michigan Adlertinium driver’s licenses*, though.

How much thought did Vic put into this? Is it his hot dog that he’s giving away? Will he announce the winner’s name over the PA or will this lead to an onslaught of Milfordians with triple-sevens at the refreshment stand? If Vic’s stunt leads to more concession sales, what will he be asked to hawk next? Finally, what’s the over/under on the number of strips before Marty Moon starts to view Vic as a threat to his on-air dominance?

Marty won’t hesitate to let Vic know that Milford is his town. Then young Mr. Doucette may find himself hawking hot dogs in the river, not unlike a vendor local to yhs.

*Today only, the first TWIMer who can show us a driver’s license with three 7s in the number wins a free comment. (For the record, yhs has only one 7 in his driver’s license number.)

I Got It from You, Gil!

Back to Maumee at Milford and I don’t know what the hell’s going on here but it’s gotta be more than what the narration box describes. No idea where the ball went (and, judging from the fans in the stands, they have no idea either) but that Panther has done more than knock it out of bounds, he’s shoved a Mudlark by the head to the floor. Captain Kangaroo Pimp is having none of it and is ejecting the Maumee miscreant on the spot.

The whole scene has sent Vic Doucette into a rage and has him channeling the Pistons’ PA guy (and Detroit radio host) John Mason.

No clue who won this game but since Gil’s not looking pissy I’d venture it was Milford. He’s pretty amused by Doucette’s shtick, at least for now. Gotta wonder when Gil handled a mic like that – and when he’ll get tired of Vic’s ruffles and flourishes.

Once more unto the geek, dear friends, once more;

Or close the wall up with our Milford dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of hoops blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the Howry;
Stiffen the hoodie, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d sycophantry;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the lenses on the head
Like the brass thumbtack; let the… brow… o… ne’er mind

Another bearded English or English Lit teacher will serve as a springboard for a Milford kid’s encounter with Gil Thorp. Prestwick here must have heard about the backlash against Rooney after the butter knife incident. That would explain why he’s giving Vic Doucette such wide berth to just up and leave his class. What, there was no backlash? Oh. Consider this tacit acknowledgement that Milford High is Thorp’s world and everyone else just lives in it.

Before I saw that Doucette was another Friend of Rubin, I thought for a moment we were gonna go down a musical path. Then I realized the leader of BeauSoleil spells his surname a bit less pretentiously. That notwithstanding, there’s the fact that the kid’s a dead ringer for Nick Lowe. His m.o. thus far is straight B/Robby Howry, and haven’t we gone to that well enough already? Ah well, if we’re gonna mix up Henry V and sports, let’s do it right, like the late great People’s Poet did.

“This Is Not Our Chance. Chance Macy Is Our Chance.”

Okay folks, I know I’ve been losing a couple of steps here and there but at what point did we see these two mooks actually encourage their teammates to take sides in their competition? Did they not start talking “Team Rapson” and “Team Thayer” of their own volition? And at what point did the fire hydrant-shaped Corina grow to be as tall as Rapson and nearly as tall as Thayer?

The wackiness of this setup just gets wackier when Corina suggest they go at it with chairs WWE style and just trash the place. Maybe this is how she really ended up at Valley Mod and all that talk of supporting her depressed mom was just a facade. Better they go at it with butter knives at five paces. There’s an ex-Mudlark at State U who could give ’em a few pointers.

Mudlarks with Filthy Souls

Well surprise, surprise, surprise! Rapson enters Casa Karenna only to find Thayer manspreading across Corina’s sofa. Didn’t realize Will had such enmity toward Rapp, but then again he might just be pissed that his quarterbacking rival has turned into a potential blocker. I’ve already used up my Fight Club references and I’m really hard pressed to come up with any explanation of what we’re seeing here that doesn’t quickly devolve into pornography. So have at it, ya filthy animals.

Being Milford, this is going to end in the most nonsexual way possible. Also being Milford, my money is on Gil putting up Mimi to put up Corina to do his job for free what he could not: get his quarterbacks – and, by extension, the rest of their teammates – to play nice with each other, again in the most nonsexual way possible.