This Week in Milford

October 3, 2019

The Bully That Won’t Stay Dead.

Filed under: actual action, football, Just Plain Awesome, Tilden — tdrewhardin @ 7:41 am

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Hey, Oh boy, we’re getting into the Friday the 13th version of the plot where Jason Voorhees apparently didn’t learn his lesson and comes out of perdition, Hades, the cemetery, etc., to terrorize the Milford Mudlarks for, oh, another 15 sequels, give or take a throat-slashing of Coach Shaw or Gil’s hair being set ablaze with Match-Lite Fluid and rubbing some sticks (gotta make the terror and torture SLOW, y’know. We oughta know, we’ve been tortured observing that Everly Brothers coif for 60 years) . Doncha just love it when Freddy Krueger kicks the running back in the crotch, the Bruiser from Milford retaliates with a machete to chop off Freddy’s head, the head gets carried off the field on a stretcher, we readers thinking we’ll have FOOTBALL the rest of the game AND the season in general but, nope, Freddy returns in the 4th quarter to stop the game-winning field goal by using an ax to the kicker’s leg?

And where is Gil in all this slash-and-burning? I’ve never been one for terror movies but I know if you want SOMEONE to play the stooge who tries to in vain prevent Jason from running rampant with the knives, that stooge has to be IN THE MOVIE. It’s like Jason given free rein to hacksaw people with no restraints, no resistance. But that’s what’s happening here.

“Gil, you know #53 went after Chance’s nuts?”

“I’m sorry, I just got back from vacation. We’ll talk tomorrow. Those post cards from Cancun are priceless. And wait’ll you see the Mayan ruins. I didn’t know they had microwaves in their civilization.”

Freddy Krueger chopping up the town of Milford with no police to stop him, for 21 sequels? Only in Thorpiverse.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Withstands Onslaught By Freddy Krueger, Uses Bucket Burgers To Satisfy Taste For Gore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I thought it was my landlord at first, but damn, I’m paid on my condo the next 3 months.”

Friday the 13th 17: The Year Jason Arises From The Mausoleum And Actually Starts Coaching!!!!!!!!!”

Girls, I’d be clinging to my boyfriend on this one.

And if it’s not bad enough that this idiot didn’t learn his lesson after being knocked for a loop, Tattoo throws the flag into P1 to signal his disapproval. Oh, I can imagine this Fantasy Island episode

“Mr. Roarke, Chance Macy has just arrived.”

“Very good, Tattoo. Show him to his quarters. I’m sure he will find his stay here most auspicious.”

“Do you still want to use that goal post we smuggled in Milford?”

“Yes, of course. And be careful that our guests do not carelessly look in on the replica of the Mudlark girls gym.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem, Mr. Roarke. Nobody went to the girls gym anyway. Nobody complained about any action while it was on the island.”

“Very well. Show Chance to the football field. We should have a REAL coach ready to lead him to the path of achievement, an accomplishment that should prove most noteworthy for Mr. Macy.”

“And if Freddy Krueger comes along and chops off Chance’s scalp in the end zone after he scores the game-winning TD, I promise to throw the flag way into Herb Woodley’s house for a late hit.”

“You are most hospitable to our guests, Tattoo.”

 

One day in the Bumstead household

DING DONG

“Dagwood!!!!!!!!!!! Someone’s at the front door!!!!!!!”

Dagwood, arising from his slumber from the couch he bought at Gil’s yard sale last year, heads to the door

“Herb!!!! What can I do for you?”

“Dagwood, is this YOURS?”

 

If ya git fined $500 by the Fish and Wildlife Offi-shul cuz ya sprayed too much buckshot into the 8-point cuz it wuz still kickin’ nd ya had ta violate the rules by shootin’ a couple of arrows when the prey was in someone’s back yard, the deer dyin’ gittin’ doused by the water sprinkler, but ya still ate the critter that night, shotgun shells and all, ya might be a redneck.

 

Now playing this week at Milford MegaCineplex

“Nightmare on Elm Street: The Year Freddy Rips Off Coach Kaz’s Earring And Wears It On His Nose For His Birthday.”

“Friday the 13th 21: Jason Throws The Flag And Decapitates Ms. Rizk While She’s Typing.”

A double feature, yeah, buddy. I understand that there’s Matinee Sunday. Bring your church program and you can watch both of these for the price of one, free bucket of popcorn included, butter extra (gotta make money somewhere, I reckon) . I know I’ll be answering the altar call this Sunday to “Just As I Am” at Milford Interdenominational Fellowship.

Now showing at the Milford VFW Post #56, Ladies Night

“Nightmare on Elm Street: Chance Finally Bludgeons Freddy With His Helmet, Charlie Roh Enters The Game”

We are about to learn about Chance’s past, given the outburst that he is inflicting on The Bully That Recurs Every Full Moon. No doubt, there’s going to be repurcussions of some kind and I wouldn’t be surprised if Roh, indeed, enters the scheme of things. If that’s the case, well, I’ve always wondered what would happen if Roh WASN’T ready while they’re reading the Tilden player’s last rites and puttin’ the cuffs on Chance, not that I blame Chance. 60 years of late hits and saying your mother is in the cell next to Papa Bader CAN build up. Now Chance know what us readers go through. Did you ever get blind-sided by the Gatorade cooler by bad plots?

Anyway

“Roh!!!!!!!!!! You’re in for Macy!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hold on, Coach!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t find my jock strap. It was laying on the bench SOMEWHERE.”

Or

“Where’s Gil?”

“I dunno. Last I saw him, he was in The Family Circus going to the store to buy Purina for Barfy.”

“That’s Billy’s Dolly’s Jeffy’s P.J.’s job!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We have a fourth-and-goal situation on the 1-yard line and we need to know whether to send in Roh on short yardage.”

“Hell, Chet took him to Mudlark Lake Refuge to go huntin’.”

Like coach, like player.

Anyway, tune in tomorrow, same Gil channel, same Gil time for the conclusion, or lack thereof, of this Revenge of Norman Bates.

Couldn’t he just have stabbed the Tilden player in the shower? Why wait until the game?

 

Friday the 13th 32: Gil Hacks Jason With A Poulan When Jason Attacks Mimi’s Schedule!!!!

 

“And this time, I think Freddy will leave Chance alone. Freddy is going back to the huddle, licking his wounds. Man, those blades have to be sharp. Time out is called out on the field with the score, Milford 20, Tilden 7. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Have you had trouble recently with Jason coming into your household? Did he skewer Grandma and Grandpa at Thanksgiving? Was Aunt Bertha a replacement for the pig at the Thorp Family Reunion, apple included?

Hello, this is Dr. Pearl for Milford Funeral Solutions and if you’re like me, you worry if Barnabas Collins can break through the coffin and arise out of Milford Generic Cemetery and start feasting at Milford High School Annual Picnic.

Let me put your fears aside as Milford Funeral Solutions has installed the latest technology to deal with any Jason that needs to sleep in the Batesville casket where he belongs. The fine people at MFS have installed Sonitrol Wiring Systems under the reposing arms of the dear departed and securely fastened them to the pillows as extra security to ensure no unnecessary resurrections will transpire and interrupt the Easter Egg Hunt at Milford Day Care. An activation switch, the Hewlett-Packard F1000, is the best in the business and guards against Jason writing his own script and terrorizing once again the streets of Milford.

And with the casket made of solid pin oak that is grown at Milford Nursery, Jason will find himself trapped by the same item that produces acorns for the animals to feed. Doesn’t it give you peace of mind knowing that Jason is up to his derriere in acorn shells and trapped by the same? The lid is then sealed by tungsten handles that only that hideous idiot from ‘Phantasm’ can open. But he’s dead too and won’t be at your next Fourth of July Fireworks Extravaganza.

Let’s face it, when my sister died during the War of the Roses, I didn’t expect for her to come looking for me with a lance. I was not going to be pierced and somebody shouting ‘Vive le Revolution!!!!!!!!’ because the MFS personnel, in conjunction with the Milford Police and Sonitrol, have coordinated efforts to prevent tragic renewals from occuring. Harry Houdini will not choke my grandchildren with a chain before the alarm goes off. Nice to know Starsky and Hutch will be at my house to send Houdini back to his tombstone.

Come see for yourself and see why Milford Funeral Solutions is #1 in customer satisfaction. Freddy Krueger will just have to go terrorize Gilligan’s Island. At Milford Funeral Solutions, the customer is always right and 6 feet under.”

Go for it, Gang. But Ruh Roh, the times, they are a-changin’.

 

LOOK de plane de plane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Tattoo, is that Mr. Thorp and his wife AGAIN???? That’s the 7th trip in the last 6 months. We have to let the sod settle before he can fulfill his fantasy on the gridiron.”

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October 2, 2019

Knocked Him Back 11

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, Highlight reel, lazy artwork, Tilden — teenchy @ 8:43 am

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Damn, Gabe Salazar hit Tilden #53 so hard he turned the double sixes on his jersey into double fives! (Tearaway numbers, perhaps?) Still that doesn’t stop #53’s jawing; it’s a wonder he can see who he’s jawing at with that helmet slammed down so far over his eyes. Between calling the audible and mouthing off at the opponent, Gil has lost control of Gabe. Usually that results in a benching followed by the Mudlarks quickly packing in their season but hey, this show must go on at least for the remainder of this game.

Any momentum Milford had will soon be swept away when dirty #53 takes a dive at Chance Macy. No doubt Chance will be injured severely enough for Charlie Roh to come off the bench and replace him. No doubt, too, that whatever Charlie does or doesn’t do will be met with some passive-aggressive criticism from chirpy Chet Ballard, who will direct that passive aggression toward Gil. Careful, Chet: unless your name is Marty Moon, everyone from Hobart to Wildcat Maris to B/Robby Howry who takes on the Gilfather eventually gets banished to the cornfield.

 

October 1, 2019

I Think, Therefore I Cheap-shot.

Filed under: actual action, Fat Guys, football, Just Plain Awesome — tdrewhardin @ 2:24 am

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Nobody is ever going to accuse Gil of running a tight ship. When the play calls for a draw but the Tilden safety said something about the wide receiver’s mother, the Mudlark 11 can always call an audible so that the wide receiver can run a fly and run to the end zone and if he doesn’t catch the TD pass, he can at least use the goalpost stand as a turnbuckle. No, he didn’t get the game-winning score but Jerry Lawler got his Southern Tag Team Belt back that way. Coach, the Mouth of the South questioned my manhood. I had to throw him through the ropes. It’s a guy thing. You understand, of course.

Then we will also explore all the ways to conjugate “Cheap-shot.” Betcha you didn’t there are many ways to skin a cat. No really, when Descartes was expressing himself in Latin, when he wasn’t busy inventing the x-y graph, he was expanding the frontiers of our vocabulary. Just listen

Cogito, ergo Cheap-shatum

Isn’t that just mellifluous? Doesn’t that just make you wanna run to the Milford 5 & 10 and get the latest copy of Wheelock’s Latin? I understand they’re running a 2-for-1 special. Better hurry. This Latin classic and Lassie Levels Rin-Tin-Tin On The Porch is going like hot cakes. I know I’ve reserved my copy.

“Lassie, did you chase Marmaduke out of the neighborhood? I know he called you a dog.”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was Ruff. Where was Dennis the Menace?”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Over at Mr. Wilson’s house? What was he doing over there?”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Skinny-dipping in his pool? I didn’t know that Mr. Wilson built one in his back yard.”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And Ruff said you look like you are hunching a fire hydrant every time you dog-paddle? Yeah, I guess I would have bitten his butt too. Good girl.”

 

If ya “accidentally” turn the wrong way when ya say “pull” and aim yore shotgun at a guy’s butt hangin’ outta his Levi’s instead of the clay pigeon at the Milford Con-ser-va-shun Club Turkey Shoot and ya didn’t git a 10-pound turkey with Stove-top Stuffin’ but ya went true on all his pimples in his crack cuz the dude said yore in-bred in-law needs ta settle up at the County Clerk and make it offi-shul, ya might be a redneck.

 

I used to officiate City League basketball games and one of my officiating partners, a good friend of mine, had a daughter who was married to a college basketball player. It wouldn’t be fair to tell who the coach was but the reason why this player transferred from this coach’s program, a major DI school in one of the better conferences, was because one day the coach called for a huddle and said

“Okay, gentlemen, we’re gonna run this play!!!!!!!!!”

And one of the players in the huddle calls out

“No way, go to Hell, Coach, we ain’t runnin’ that play!!!!!!!!!!”

Needless to say, this player wound up in a program where the coach was runnin’ the show.

And that’s what galls me in P1. Can’t you just SEE this one

“Okay, Guys, we got ’em where we want ’em. First-and-goal on the 2-yard line. We’re gonna do a double reverse left. We’ve run that play on Tilden for 60 years and they still haven’t figured it out yet.”

Gabe Salazar, adjusting his jock strap, getting the fleas out of his butt

“NAW, COACH, Go to Hell!!!!!!!!!! You’re just a sorry-ass comic-strip coach anyway. We’re doin’ an off-tackle right cuz the Tilden guys have a bunch of wienies, according to the on-going script anyway, and one of ’em said we only play teams that’d show up on The Brady Bunch!!!!!!!!!! I’m gonna level Greg Brady into the next county!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mudlarks Win On Last-Second Field Goal!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I told Coach Kaz that if we pulled off that slant left one more time that we were going to meet behind the dumpster.”

 

And really, this whole conjugation thing, Latin or no Latin, wouldn’t have transpired if the Tilden player had just shut his mouth. But Gang, look at it as an opportunity. They haven’t shut their traps in 60 years anyway and if people want the strip to continue, do you REALLY expect the Tilden nose tackle to invite all the Mudlarks over for tea at the nose tackle’s abode? It might never happen (not really) but I entertained the notion because Tiki didn’t have a place for tea for a while. Hard to fellowship over Earl Grey in Hooverville.

ANYWAY, let’s explore the conjugation of cheap-shot when you decline it in the future pluperfect indicative

I will have had cheap-shotted Steve Luhm because he forgot again to put toilet paper rolls in the Port-o-Lets at the game. It was no fun using my football program to wipe.

You will have had cheap-shotted Luhm because he could have at least emptied the containers. the stench had reached Tilden.

He will have had cheap-shotted the refs when the Tilden player cheap-shotted Chance Macy and the refs cheap-shotted Coach Thorp with a 15-yard unsportsmanlike penalty.

We will have had cheap-shotted this plot by shifting our attention to Nancy and Sluggo.

They will have had cheap-shotted Coach Shaw for going on another sabbatical when Chance Macy is hitting his stride. This will not have had cheap-shotted any surprise but for once you’d like Coach Shaw to be there for the Championship ceremonies.

 

And as long as Gabe “Coach de facto” Salazar is wearing the headset because Gil wiped his butt with his own cuz Luhm forgot to install Charmin, could we have had at least cheap-shotted (i.e., removed)  those Lego blocks that shine at the most inopportune time? Nothing is more annoying than watching one of the players take charge when those rays of Toys ‘R’ Us are beaming on Mutiny on the Bounty. I am a horrible artist (my niece is the one that can draw, trust me, several exhibits along the Esplanade in our city attests to that) but, damn, I can draw a square with circles in it and draw rays (A line emanating from one point in a particular direction infinitely, in case you forgot your geometry) in all directions from that square full of circles. If this particular figure ever shows up at the Transfiguration, I’m changing Bibles.

And then we get to the gerundive case. Perfect (pardon the pun) for what’s happening in P3 (Gabe will have had humped the Tilden player on the 1-yard line.) . Heck, the verb in its proper form has already been supplied, all you have to do is fill in the details.

I am cheap-shotting this abysmal plot and anticipating basketball in the future indicative, er, future.

You are cheap-shotting Gabe and telling him STFU and be respecting his elders (2 for the price of one) .

He is cheap-shotting Gil’s hair. It is in dire need of Prell this time, not VO5.

We are cheap-shotting Mimi because all she does is have verandah chats and coach 5-game basketball seasons.

They are cheap-shotting the girls basketball season because there WAS no season last year. Mimi felt cheap-shotted (hey, bending the rules here) .

 

“And Gabe really took a shot here. Man, things got ugly pretty fast. I know Gil calls his plays out of the comic section but this is ridiculous. We’ll take a break as the Milford General EMT goes to go get the stretcher. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Honeyyyyyyyyyy, I bought you something!!!!!!!!!! It’ll make things more fun at night!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coach Shaw is buried in his Second Year Latin book trying to conjugate the Latin word for “cheap-shot” in the imperative case

“Okay, here we go ‘Cheap-shoterum urbe Romularum” Man, that’s a funny way to say “Nuke the city of Rome” but if ya wanna learn the language, ya take the good with the bad. I learned that when I was ditching and coaching the team. Now let’s see here, ‘Caesar Augustus cheap-shotat Hannibaleris Montonae Capitolae Anno Domini-”

“Honey, let’s learn Latin another time and let’s learn how to have a good time.”

“Just when I was gettin’ to the part where the verb ‘to fiddle” was declined? I’m still having trouble with the accusative case. Let’s see, ‘A flunky cheap-shotted Nero with his violin-”

“Put the book in the Saturday Evening Post rack and take this pill and this glass of water.”

“Man, it looks like a Contac. Woman, I ain’t got no snot up my nose. What are you tryin’ to do, put me to sleep so you can catch my significant other off guard? Have sex while I’m in La La Land?”

“Just try it and see what happens. I didn’t just want to give you pills like these other sex clinics. Once you swallow this one, there’s a time-release that’s supposed to really get you aroused.”

“Woman, you tried doing that with Flintstones Chewables and I wound up worse than a kid eatin’ Twinkies. I was bouncin’ off the walls for 3 days and I was still flatter than a pancake. What makes you think THIS will work?”

“Honey, just try it. FOR ME?”

“Oh, all right.”

 

“OMG. Whatever they got out of Milford Creek got me goin’ like Jumpin’ Jack Flash. I’d never gotten so horny in all my life. It just hit me like a ton of bricks and next thing you know we were having sex just about anywhere. You name it, we were doin’ it. It was a little tight at the top of the Statue of Liberty but visitation was slow so we managed. Bribing security helped. And we had to watch the piranhas in the Amazon but we stayed near the shallow waters, no problem.

Yes, you men should take the cue and special-order these tablets that’ll get you higher than Gil’s hair. And with the coupon that you should be getting in the mail anyday now, that’s even more of a reason to conquer your erectile problems once and for all. Conquering that and your woman never felt so good. Get your own time-release from Milford Men’s Clinic and you can pump your woman and watch for sharks in the ocean too. Greatest feeling in the world. Check it out at The Clinic today. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

All right, Gang. Cheap-shot away. I still gotta do some more work on the genitive case. Hmmmmmm “The Cheap-shottedness of Gil Thorp’s grandma…”

 

“We will cheap-shot the fish by the river, they will cheap-shot the thugs under the bridge…”

“Gil, come to bed.”

September 30, 2019

C’mon Zebra!

Filed under: actual action, Coach Kaz, football, Tilden — nedryerson @ 5:44 am

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The word has spread through the Valley Conference. Milford has a hotshot running back named Chance Macy. Chance has a target on his back heading into the match at Tilden.

Detective Kaz is still working on an investigation into the full story behind Chance Macy, but for now it’s Coach Kaz looking out for Chance. Tilden players are taking aim at Chance, THUD!ing him and taking cheap shots. Oh the humanity.

I wonder if this is “too much”.

Are the teams in formation in panel 1? Is 53 of Tilden hanging around in Milford’s backfield? The Zebras are really not paying attention.

September 28, 2019

With A Great Ground Game Comes Great Responsibility

Filed under: Coach Kaz, exposition comics, Fat Guys, football, freak hands, Gil Thorp — teenchy @ 2:29 pm

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After a hot sweaty workout complete with gun show, Gil and Kaz towel down and make a little pillow talk. His guard down, a dreamy-faced Gil lets slip just exactly who it is he fantasizes about during these training room sessions. Kaz pretends not to notice, instead continuing his amateur private dick schtick and nosing around for more info on the tight-lipped Chance Macy.  There are as many valid reasons for a high school student with otherwise good grades to be a year behind other students his age as there are readers of this blog.

Speaking of Chance, quick cut to his dinner table where Macy dwarfs his grandparents and where there’s also an empty chair. Grandpa follows Gil’s lead and adds another to the pile of cryptic comments in the fall arc thus far. Where are Macy’s parents? Is he gonna have a similar backstory to Silent John Pascoe? Will it make Chance’s grandparents his equivalent to Aunt May and Uncle Ben? Will he get bitten by a radioactive spider next?

September 27, 2019

Good chance this guys a fraud

Filed under: Gil Thorp — robmize2013 @ 8:52 pm

Kaz and Gil dance around the issue of Chance Macy. Why the hell do they have all these questions?  Doesnt Milford have a database of all its students, with date of birth, residence, etc. on file in the main office?? He’s older then some of the juniors?? What the fuck kind of question is that? Arent the seniors older then the juniors? What a holy hell mess this school is.

So Gil hides known info from Kaz so Kaz can find the said info out himself, then Kaz STILL has to ask Gil why Chance is a year behind?  A year behind who? The juniors? So what is he, a sophomore who is as old as a senior??

The real dumbbells here are not the weights, people.

September 26, 2019

“Did You See Him With Shades On And Carrying A Bottle Of Jack Out Of Milford Beverage Warehouse?” “I Did.”

Filed under: big arms, Coach Kaz, exposition comics, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 1:11 pm

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Down in the dumpy, roach-infested digs

We’d roll and fall in green

You wore a beehive like this Spalding pigskin

Too much Sassoon, too pepper-gray

 

Why don’t you leave me

So I can possess the game

I hated you, I loved football too

 

Bad calls in the night

Coach told me I was going to lose the fight

Leave behind my

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m legal age

I’ve passed the physical, I’m still eligible

Let me in the game

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Gang, I apologize, I had this one wrapped up for Christmas but a personal matter turned up and like Grandma Macy, she was was hard to bounce out on the street so I had to find her bifocals which we FINALLY tracked down under the cushion of the couch along with the remote we’ve been searching for for several months. Thank God we weren’t trying to find her dentures. Under the seat slobbering on the channel function? Yuck.

Anyhoo, Today’s post includes a performer I have always admired. Her music is electric and scintillating and really gets in me. But I grew up on Alice Cooper, no problem. I grew up on Black Sabbath, in particular, Ozzy Osbourne, no problem. I lived to tell about it every time I played “Children of the Grave”, the lead-in “Embroyo”, if you want to get greedy, off of “Master of Reality”. I grew up on Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart, no problem.

NONE of these performers have scared the shit out of me the way Kate Bush does. She has an eerie presence that works and adds the touch to her music that really sends me. One night at 2:00AM, I was reading an article on her that I had to put down, her photographs were THAT frightening. But that’s what also makes it appealing for me and will add, in my opinion, the punch to this plotline that is enigmatic and starting to limp after a strong start at the Milford Marathon. God, I hate to see what happens at Heartbreak Hill. Kate will be there to deliver the death blow, trust me.

 

At the 26 mile mark, situated at the beveled loading dock at Milford Foundry

“Gil, want some Gatorade? You look like you could use some.”

“Hell, no. I can suck it a few more yards. I’ll have my picture with my family proudly beside me.”

“That’s nice, but the photographer went home for the night.”

 

If ya gotta pass the ‘rithmatic Final by studyin’ the multi-plik-a-shun tables ’til the rooster crows early mornin’ so yuz can FINALLY pass 3rd grade and be eligible as a redshirt freshman for the junior varsity football team and ya FINALLY got 9 x 9 cuh-rehct by placin’ 9 monkey wrenches on the hood one way and 9 the other way, pointin’ towards the dice in the rear-view mirror, ya might be a redneck.

 

P1 is scary but if Thorpiverse thinks it’s going to get to Chance singing “The Red Shoes”, I think we better stick with Kate, thank you very much. We are led to believe that Chance is the second coming of Ted Bundy, about to chop up Grandma Macy with a Ginsu knife once he gets off the team bus, unbeknownst to the kids sitting behind him, talking about girls, football, what’s available online at The Bucket (“Let’s order that Bucket Tunaburger again. It’s got tuna wild-caught out of Mudlark Lake.” “HOLD ON. My phone ain’t working.”) .

And what sucks, We were getting used to Chet being an asshole and tolerating his inchoate methods for dealing with his stepson and his potential football talent or dealing with Coach Thorp and his coaching in absentia and still putting a product on the field. Aren’t you getting vertigo jumping from Stiff-Necked Lout to Norman Bates about to turn Grandma Bates into sawdust? Like Robert Frost, I prefer the Road Less Confusing. But I know a lot of you aren’t into “Fire and Ice”. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.

STILL, once the only player who hasn’t been carded at Milford Lounge gets off the bus, I would like a little stability here. It’s time to get back to normalcy. So the League of Nations was a bad concept and now we’re going to have to endure every man for himself. But, Hell, we’ve had plenty of practice watching Chet at football games. Talk about grandstanding in the name of your own ego. His son better make the NFL and make this damn thing worth it, is all I can say.

 

Oooohhh, game gets close, it gets chippy

On the other side from you

I bitch a lot. I whine a lot

Wish I got ‘Dad’ from you

 

Don’t let Dreher back, Chuck

Cruel Macy, my one blot

My only other running back

 

Too long, Chance is in the play

Charlie’s coming in on second down, to put it right

He’s rolling right to

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m obnoxious

I’ve read the pattern, I’m a pro at this

Let me call the plays

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Well, did you think the lyric was going to be “I’m a Good Samaritan, I believe in sportsmanship, shake the hand of your opponent when you lose, Charlie”? Hell, we could end the football plot RIGHT NOW and take a sneak preview into basketball. But noooooooooo, Chet’s gotta be an asshole for about 2 more months before we schedule the Billy Graham Crusade at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater. Can’t have Chet answering the altar call before October. Ooops, I forgot, we still have Ted Bundy and his grandma. But you can only chop her up 31 ways if that plot lasts until Halloween. Better to drag this jalopy all the way to the finish line. Jughead Jones will be there at Heartbreak Hill with a Radio Flyer full of Bucket Burgers.

 

Oh, come on, coaches. In P2, we are subjected to a conversation a bit on the unrealistic side. I was only kidding about Chance being compared to Ted Bundy. They aren’t.

As long as we’re going to be ostentatious about weightlifting and hoist something your average senior citizen with his or her yearly pass at the Milford Athletic Club could jerk up and down without Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em head serving as a spotter, why don’t we at least get real. I have dealt with, either in Babe Ruth or at the private school I coached, SEVERAL players who were short on conversation. That didn’t make them Lizzie Borden. As long as they showed up ready to play and listen, giving me 110%, I really didn’t care if they weren’t much for words.

Now don’t get me wrong. I think it’s in every coach’s best interest to establish an excellent relationship or at least a workable rapport with your players as long as you’re in the same dugout or on the bench.  I can honestly say that I could get players to crash through a wall for me as long as I treated them with RESPECT (Notice big case letters) . The players were GREAT to me and they made me who I am. They took the wins, I took the losses.

But common sense rules the day. If Chance doesn’t have a meat cleaver in his locker, I think it’s safe to say that his grandma will sleep another night. 2541 will enter another halcyon period since it’s hard for me to imagine Silent Chance attacking his grandma with his Boy Scout knife out of his drawer.

Time to hit the sauna, Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Head.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared On Rape Charges In Grandma Macy’s Living Unit!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Judge Ito knows me better than that. I wouldn’t touch her with gloves on or off.”

 

Then in P3, Coach Kaz is really sweating it out, either from bench-pressing the 25-pound weight (allowing for 5 pounds on the bar) or the agony of cerebralizing whether they’re harboring someone who’s old enough to file for Social Security benefits. Heavy-duty mental loads like this can be hell on the last rep, we know, Coach Kaz. Gil is there with a Handi-Wipe.

BTW, how do they know all this unless they were riding on the bus THEMSELVES? And, okay, if they didn’t ride in the Coach’s Limo (So THAT’S where Thorp keeps his golf clubs in the summer when he’s not not-coaching during the school year) , or in a separate bus which some schools do if the team is carrying a lot of players (i.e., Sophomore bus, Freshman bus, etc.) , and they indeed rode with Ted Bundy and his arguably subversive, slightly dangerous demeanor, what were they doing, observing the entire bus ride back to Milford? And not celebrating with the rest of the team? Concern is one thing. Stretching the storyline so it makes the half hour slot without having to fill in with another Toyota Corolla or Breeze Detergent commercial is another. The silver lining to the latter might be I’d get a towel out of the box when I’m dumping detergent in the washing machine with the “rinse” letters barely legible at the Milford Laundromat to wash my tube socks but that’s about it.

But us Thorpiverse veterans are used to Rubber-Band Man scenarios. Stretch away, Coaches.

 

“And that just about wraps up the Milford Marathon here at the finish line here by the Wacky Water Slide here at Mudlark Lake. Jerry Pulver Jr. wins the event in a record 2:27:16. Coach Thorp and Coach are yet to be accounted for. I understand they got lost by the drawbridge by The Bucket. They had to wait ’til the Milford & Oakwood frigate finally got its orders. That gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This ius Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG-Radio, a division of Learfield Sports.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m training for the Milford Marathon!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, it’s 2:37 in the morning. And why are you training in the bathroom in the basement?”

“I gotta stay mentally strong. You can’t have any lapses in concentration when you’re chuggin’ for 26 miles.”

“Darling, I can give you that extra boost if you’ll give me a chance. Now come to bed with me.”

“Mrs. Shaw, you don’t understand. I have to be at my peak performance. That’s why I’m drinkin’ all these Nutrament Dutch Chocolate shakes. There’s plenty more behind the Pennzoil 10W-30 bottles here in the closet.”

“Aren’t there linens in there too? Where’d you put those?

“Blubba blubba, you’d be surprised how many Holiday Inn towels can cover a case full of Nutrament French Vanilla and Bar’s Leaks. Why it’s a match made in Heaven. And you can’t have any dissension when you’re at Heartbreak Hill. I’ll be sprintin’ like Jesse Owens if I got the Nutrament Black Cherry Special Blend wrapped up out of view.”

“And I don’t EVER remember your buying running shoes.”

“Ickity ackity oop, uh uh, I bought some cross trainers at a yard sale. Kid ran ’em in the Milford High School X-Country meets. Still got some high school invitationals left. I’ll be runnin’ like the wind at mile 15.”

“I just hope the crowd doesn’t notice the wimpy thing between your legs by then. Hard to hide that one with a Holiday Inn towel, My Love.”

 

“What could I say? She had me and she knew it and I knew it. It was time to take the towels back to Holiday Inn and pay the $7.00 Missing Merchandise Fee, then head down to Milford Men’s Clinic to deal with MY OWN missing merchandise. With treatment programs that work, my significant other came out of hiding and none too soon. I won my age division at the Milford Marathon thanks to the sprints I won in bed. Boy, it’s nice when you can pump your arms and your significant other simultaneously. My wife sure as hell agreed. But don’t take my word for it. Run on down to Milford Men’s Clinic and win your own age bracket. There’s plenty of ribbons to be won there. Come and claim your own Blue Ribbon. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. I can only pass it along BUT I WILL. Y’all mean the world to me.

 

Ooohhhh, let him have it

Let Charlie take the game away

Oooohhhh, let him have it

Let Chance slice Granny away

You know it’s Gil, Cathy

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m concerned

I’ve come home, you’re so frazzled

Let Charlie, though fumbling, through the window

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m cornered

Etc., etc., etc.,

 

What are Gil and Kaz doing, pumping iron in Thorpiverse Heights? I hope they have plenty of Off!

Well done, Kate.

 

 

 

September 25, 2019

Beat the Devils

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, Highlight reel, Milford Weirdos — teenchy @ 6:27 am

gt09252019

Rubin has taken the Mudlarks on a road trip to South Carolina once again. (Starting to think he must have a timeshare there.) Dreher – the only Dreher High School in the US – is in Columbia. It has some nice looking prairie style windows even though Columbia is about as far from the prairie as you can get. The Blue Devils football team has a Twitter feed but I don’t see Milford on that schedule. Maybe they got fit into that bye week between Gilbert and Lower Richland.

To the action: Charlie Roh (and I still can’t get over the fact that Rubin has named this kid of apparent Southeast Asian origin “Charlie”) manages to pick up a first down despite having a Blue Devil take a bite out of his left thigh. Holding that football like a loaf of bread might give us a clue as to why he fumbled in the opener. You’d think Kaz would’ve worked with him on that in practice yesterday. At least douchey Chet Ballard is happy for the moment.

That happiness is bound to last only for that moment as Charlie’s backfield rival, the introverted Chance Macy, reels off a touchdown run. No doubt Chet will have a hissy thinking that touch should’ve been Charlie’s. Chill out, Ballard! Go to the concession stand and grab a nice barbecue sandwich or something. If that doesn’t help, leave the game early, take that two-hour drive down I-26 and bend elbows with Mr. Bakst in Charleston. I’ve been known to do that on occasion.

 

 

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