Ooooh, big reveal! It was some kind of reverse/end-around, with Lucas Martin doing “it again” as he dodges a laid-out 11-foot-tall Jefferson defender. When did Lucas Martin do “it” the first time? He obviously hasn’t been doing what Gil had him transfer from Goshen to do; otherwise Milford would’ve beaten Goshen. Maybe Gerads isn’t intimidated by Lucas anymore?
One of Merrill’s awkward chyrons has shown up again, showing Jefferson as “JJHS.” It’s also showing 50 seconds left in the fourth quarter. Gil Belichick might not need AI to call plays, but he needs some kind of intelligence to teach him clock management. Plenty of time for the Jeffs to take it down the field, and plenty of time to drag this game out for another week. Will it?
meta: I see a GoComics commenter wrote that “JJHS” could stand for “John Jefferson High School.” As good a reason as any to drop some of his highlights.
reign /reɪn/, n. 1. the period during which a sovereign occupies the throne. 2. royal rule or authority; sovereignty. Synonyms: suzerainty, dominion. 3. dominating power or influence: the reign of law.
reign /reɪn/, v. 1. to possess or exercise sovereign power or authority. Synonyms: prevail, govern, rule Antonyms: obey. 2. to hold the position and name of sovereign without exercising the ruling power. 3. to have control, rule, or influence of any kind. 4. to predominate; be prevalent.
rein /reɪn/, n. 1. Often a leather strap, fastened to each end of the bit of a bridle, by which the rider or driver controls a horse or other animal by pulling so as to exert pressure on the bit. 2. any of certain other straps or thongs forming part of a harness, as a checkrein. 3. any means of curbing, controlling, or directing; check; restraint. 4. reins, the controlling or directing power: the reins of government.
rein /reɪn/, v. (used with object) 1. to check or guide (a horse or other animal) by exerting pressure on a bridle bit by means of the reins. 2. to curb; restrain; control. Synonyms: limit, bridle, check.
(Source: dictionary.com)
Those are for you, Henry, or for Merrill or the letterer or whoever is gonna get thrown under the bus for this one. But hey, enough pedantry. Wacky hijinks are afoot so let’s waste no time getting to them!
P1: Dr. Pearl is back for the first time in the Merrill Era. I kinda Miss Whig’s Lou Holtz Granny Moses take on the good doctor.* Gave me an excuse to break out the Flatt and Scruggs. Merrill’s version is, well, less bad than most of the characters we’ve seen her attempt.
Pearl hasn’t had much reason to doubt Gil’s hiring of this former nemesis until now. Old Palmless Armer there vows to have the whole thing under control…
P2: …kind of like his marriage. Hiyo!
Well it’s not Exploding Eyeball Syndrome from the Whigham Era but close enough that I’m gonna tag it that way. You can practically see Gil’s right eye twitch.
P3: As I wrote on Wednesday, “What fresh hell is this?” is applicable to damn near every other post on this blog. Luke is back at it with the candles (still no rum or cigars) and he’s brought a Ouija doormat board with him. Either Merrill made a stab at board accuracy or product placement for Larry Ellison.
Ochoa doesn’t seem to mind the candles as much as last time. Either it’s because these candles don’t smoke or the smoke coming off Mimi is a distraction. Tune in Monday when Gil asks Luke to step outside for a talk while Cami and Mimi settle in for some hot girl-on-girl action.
*Right, right, what from the Chief don’t we miss? Didja ever think you’d long for just one more pointy finger breaking the fourth wall?
I have a question. Are they still playing the game?
C’mon, Henry, okay, we get it, ya gotta have a little soap opera in the sports to boost the ratings. I’m sure Another World will do wonders to pique the interest of some football fans and it’s become a little…well, interesting, in more ways than one.
But no coach that I knew from the teams I followed for eons (and still follow) for our high school ever brought his or her personal life to the sideline or dugout, bench or coach’s box. Nobody spoke about their adventures in bed during a time out.
The game was actually getting interesting, the absence of Bob Barker notwithstanding. Do we have to interrupt the excitement with excitement restricted to under the covers? I personally don’t care what color of chunky bracelets Beth wears when she’s in her Birthday Suit.
Lawrence Welk loved to entertain. And talk about a man who paid his dues. He worked on a farm until he was 21 to pay for his musical ambitions as Papa Welk had no objections to whatever Lawrence did as long as he WORKED. Work he did. He left his Strasburg, North Dakota farm and said goodbye to the stench and grime and unyielding biting cold in the winter to eventually work his way to the top. The Lawrence Welk Show was born.
One neat thing he did that the audience loved was whenever his band would play a dance tune, he invited the audience to get on the dance floor and, well, dance. I have to hand it to Welk, it was neat watching these couples, many of them retirees, still be able to shimmy and shake, juke and jump, waltz and polka the night fantastic.
Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Coach Thorp Asked To Leave The Milford Outdoor Amphitheater Premises At Lawrence Welk Tribute Concert!!!!!!!!!
sub headline
”Lawrence Welk Orchestra spokesperson: ‘We understand everyone possesses various musical tastes. However using profanity at the orchestra for not playing Sister Disco was not in the best interests of all concerned.’”
REX ALERT!!!!!!! REX ALERT!!!!!!!!
I think I’d rather see Chubby Nerdy ride his bicycle to Norway.
Truck Tyler is being his usual asshole self, making me want Mud Mountain Murphy to come back and perform “Them Muddy Boots” with Lawrence Welk on the accordion. Can they book a date at Milford Comedy Caravan?
Truck, did you leave your manners and civility in the onion ring basket at Nick’s Diner? Sheesh, put some horse radish on his outlook, anything to cover the cow manure. I realize it’s hard to pronounce Stenosing Tenosynovitis. It sounds like what transpires when gingivitis is afflicting your attitude. Make sure you use flouride on your perspective and gargle before you go to bed.
And don’t forget to wipe. There’s plenty of Charmin for your way of thinking.
What is it with P2?
Gil is doing his best imitation of Boris Karloff when he forgot to brush with Colgate and the cavities are causing half of his jaw to sag at half mast. And are they STILL indulging and harping on Gil’s misadventures with Beth in bed?
”Emmett, don’t tell anybody but I used a few toys that I bought on layaway at Milford Adult Shoppe-LOOK OUT FOR THAT RUNNING BACK!!!!!!!”
”My bad, Coach. Don’t you have a Visa card? Or did it max out?”
This is utterly ridiculous. And I’m just going by what I see in front of me. As Frank mentioned, discussing these private matters in the middle of a game simply drags Thorpiverse down, along with football, to the level of a Hog-Rasslin’ Jamboree at Milford County Fair.
I mean, we’re assuming that this athlete in P2 that appears to be a runaway semi is not Dotty Dubbs at her Ninja Cross Country practice. I realize that to assume is to make a Gil out of you and me but I’m still holding serve on this one.
Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer
”Mimi Thorp The Highlight Of The Lawrence Welk Dance Party At Milford Outdoor Amphitheater!!!!!!”
sub headline
”Lawrence Welk Orchestra spokesperson: ‘Mimi and Ericka most assuredly had all the moves when the band struck up ‘In The Mood’. They received three standing ovations.”
Somewhere in Milford
”So when I signed the divorce papers, I went to Beth’s bar to drown in whiskey and beer nuts. Some of them tasted like they used moth balls for salt-“
”GIL!!!!!! LOOK OUT!!!!!!!! YOUR LINEBACKER IS ABOUT TO PUSH THE GUY OUT OF BOUNDS!!!!!!!!”
Whoa hoss. Emmett grew a Dusty Rhodes pro wrestling beer gut in P3. It makes it a little tougher to clear out of harm’s way when he fails to partake of some Weight Watchers in the intermezzo of P2 and P3. Can we converse on the lurid details about Beth’s antics in the bedroom at a later time so that nobody gets hurt? Is that too much to ask?
”Atazhoon gets pushed out of bounds, causing the water boy to dump H2O all over Gil’s MTV jacket. Coach T, we do have a game. Your lack of performance is something you can talk about when you punch the clock. We have an official time out as the refs are advising Coach T to get his head out of his derrière and display leadership for once. That might be too much to ask, just look at his kids. We’ll return after these messages with the score, Milford, 7, Generic Punching Bag High, 0. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”
At the Milford Outdoor Amphitheater for the Lawrence Welk Dance Party
”PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC, WHITE BOYS!!!!!!!”
The orchestra, unsure of what to do, just ignore Coach Thorp.
But Beth and the kids, taking a break from sashaying to “Roll Out The Barrel”, and sitting back in the audience, munching on the complimentary Buffalo Wings w/ Guacamole Dip, can’t help but notice Gil in a tarantella.
”I MEAN IT!!!!!!! I WANT TO HEAR SISTER DISCO!!!!!!!”
Gil belts out
”GOODBYE SISTER DISCO
WITH YOUR FLASHY TRASH PANTS
GOODBYE SISTER DISCO
AND TO YOUR CLUBS AND TO YOUR TRAMPS”
Beth and the kids leave their Cracker Jack in the seats and approach Gil
”Gil, you’re embarrassing me and the kids. Why don’t you sit down and cool off for a while?”
”No way!!!!! The Who hasn’t been the same with Keith Moon dead. If the Lawrence Welk Orchestra thinks they can sneak Kenney Jones in to play the drums, they’ve been snorting too many complimentary nacho chips!!!!! I don’t care if Jones was with The Faces, the Welk Orchestra couldn’t touch ‘You Better You Bet’ with Jones on the drumsticks!!!!!”
”Daddy said Pete Towns used to bust his guitar when they played ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’ and he wanted the cello player to smash his into the kettledrums.”
”That’s TOWNSHEND!!!!! And Keri, if I can induce the Lawrence Welk Orchestra into a lather for AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’, I’ll be so solid by the time me and Beth slip under the covers, she’ll think she was getting raped by Babar the Elephant!!!!!”
”Gil, you can save all the trouble if you’ll only take those EREC-5467 SHOOTEMHARD injections I ordered online from Milford Men’s Clinic. It’s better than watching their trombone player calling the Milford State Hospital for the men in white coats to come out.”
”Absolutely not!!!!! I’m in charge of what’s under my zipper, thank you very much!!!!! What’s the harm of anyone playing Montrose’s ‘Rock The Nation’ on the accordion???? By gum, if that don’t make me harder than the brass section, I’ll dance The Charleston whenever Sammy Hagar plays the tuba whenever the Welk Orchestra belts out ‘Begin The Beguine’!!!!!!!!”
”Daddy said he wanted the clarinet player to play ‘Whole Lotta Love’ and ‘Runnin’ With The Devil’ and then have Gene Simmons breathe fire out of the organ pipes when they get to ‘Firehouse’. He said that he’ll get hornier that way. That’s why he borrowed a spare pair of Mr. Simmons’ high heels.”
”Gil, forget about Mimi. She and Ericka invested 45% of stock into Amelia’s Chuck Wagon. Let them run off to the Yukon Territory. Let’s end this silliness and let’s go home.”
”I’m going to steal an old lady’s high heels and dance in my Underoos to ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ and ‘Gimme Shelter’ and be just like Daddy!!!!!!’”
”NO YOU WON’T, JAMI!!!! Gil!!!!! That’s enou-“
”Attention all participants. Anyone driving a red SUV, license plate GIL SUX, your lights are on.”
”Those high heels were causing major foot odor anyway. Thank God the EPA wasn’t in the building. And it was time to address the problem. Drop my drawers, gently stick one of those injections into the cheeks of my rear end and I was a dancin’ fool with Beth, in and out of bed!!!!!! It’s nice having hot sex with ‘Detroit Rock City’ playing from the phonograph. Come dance the night fantastic, even when Lawrence Welk isn’t gracing his presence in your bedroom, with help from Milford Men’s Clinic. And say good bye to Sister Disco and her flashy trash pants et al.”
No, Gang. Freezer Thompson had a bigger pro wrestling gut than what P3 is displaying. I watched more Milford Championship Wrestling segments, SO THERE!!!!!!!
But God bless you anyway, Gang.
In Scottsdale
”No, Ericka. Sometimes Gil made no moves towards me at all because he was so flabby, he had to use the phone charger on-“
An all-day, cross-country drive from hanging with Mr. Bakst has left yhs a bit frazzled and ready to hit the hay. Rather than engaging in thoughtful commentary, I’m gonna break today’s strip down into what I like and what I don’t. YMMV.
Thumbs up:
Practice! Not just any practice,but…
Line drills! Haven’t seen anything like that since the days of Steve Boone.
Setting up Goshen as this season’s antagonist. It can’t realistically be Milford v. New Thayer Valley Tech (d’oh!) in the finals of every sport, every season. Then again, when was the last time realism was a thing in this strip? Don’t answer that question.
Setting up Coach Gerads as Gil’s latest nemesis. Luke Martinez has turned into dopey comic relief, and Coach Kim can only take it so far. This also gets a thumbs down. More on that in a moment.
Thumbs down:
Whigham’s lettering.* Creates an expectation that every word will have texture. (Imagine what SWISH! will look like.) Think the weak attempt at altering the “oval G” will put the Packers, UGA and Grambling State off the scent? The St. Louis Blues might have a word with him, too.
If Goshen’s running line drills, why does Gerads have reflections of an electric football QB in his shades? Horatio Caine, he is not.
How is Horatio – er, Gerads – holding that whistle in his mouth? It looks like it’s hovering in front of his lips.
Setting up Coach Gerads as Gil’s latest nemesis. How can he be taken seriously after that drunken tirade after the COTYs? And please don’t tell me he’s not gonna be reminded of that little run-in he had every waking moment of the rest of his life. Opposing players and coaches will never stop taunting him along the lines of “Hey! We’re gonna beat your ass worse than your own players did!” or “Hey! How can you beat us when you can’t even beat your own players?”
*Nice punk rock shoutout today anyway, Whigs. Another expectation you’ve created.
After a summer of Comic Con, relationship issues, golf and, uh, golf, football season is upon us once again. The pro game is trying to go global and changing up some rules. Between NIL money, the formation of superconferences that have no relation to geography, and the expanded postseason, college football will look far different than we’ve known it before. For the first time since forever and, even though my alma mater stands to be in the thick of the mix, I am honestly less than excited about the upcoming season. The odds of an Appy State upsetting a Michigan or even a Navy knocking off a Notre Dame are greater than ever, and holiday bowl games lose some of their luster when they become early rounds of a playoff.
Good thing we have Valley Conference high school football to follow, where everything is simple and has no bearing on, or relationship to, our present reality. Look at Tobe Gordon, who continues to dress and undress in the boys’ locker room without anyone batting an eye. He may be taped down and bound up within an inch of his life, but unless he’s on HRT there’s no way no one couldn’t smell what he’s cooking. Is that a trace of an Adam’s apple on Tobe in P1? Maybe those hormones are kicking in, after all.
On to these floating text boxes, which take the place of Gil telling Marty, or Marjie, or Heather, who these schmoes are.
Is “Torch” a new nickname for Leo? Did he get busted for arson and spend time in juvie to hone his football skills this summer? Is this another shoutout to The Fantastic Four and he just really likes Johnny Storm? Or is this another kid off the rez, cursed with the same barber Leo has?
Austin Field is not where the Texas Longhorns play their home games; that would be Darrell Royal – Texas Memorial Stadium. He’s sporting a darker version of Coach Gerads’ ‘do. Let’s tag him with the Pantheon of Hair.
Oscar Capp might be a shoutout to the creator of Li’l Abner or a relative of Andy. If the latter, Gil might have a right scrappy little player on his hands, if he can keep him sober.
All of these jamokes seem concerned about Rodney Barnes, who… is coming back to Milford High? So he wasn’t even a senior and he was trying to break into the D-League? Gil had to take him to the hallowed halls of Milford U to see what college hoops were all about? If he had any germ of next-level talent, scouts would’ve already been sniffing around him like, well, teenage boys around a teenage girl.
Guess one of our fall arcs will involve mopey Rodney and find out whether he has the heart to come out for football, to devote all his time and effort to upping his hoops game, or to go down a different path. Stranger things have happened, like someone thinking Rodney Dangerfield could rap.
Did anyone else think it weird Gil was blaming himself for Mimi’s thwarted career ambitions? As weird as him calling her “a terrific mother”? Or weirder, like that shadowy appendage dangling from the end of Beth’s leg?
I don’t think there are any pro golf league bylaws barring women in opposite-sex marriages who have children from competing, unless Henry’s fictitious WPGL is Women’s Pro Golf for Lesbians, in which case all bets are off. I do think it’s pretty rich to consider “terrific mothering” including taking the kids to the beach while she contemplates divorcing their dad, letting them drink at home with the new squeeze, and bringing them along for the ride in Priscilla while she works plays golf.
Please refresh your institutional memory by taking a gander at that last hyperlinked post. It’s been frequently noted, not just here but also at the ‘mudgeon, that Henry has developed Mimi’s “alternative families” attributes at the expense of her “mother to two kids” attributes. We’ve been shown examples of how Mimi hasn’t been there for her kids when she was needed most: no amount of lip service or keepers playing chess are gonna retcon that away.
But we’re in a fantasyland where middle-aged women can just pick up their game where they left it years before and become successful pros in less than a year’s time. Where barkeeps can just quit their jobs, move cross (state? country?), hole up with the golf pro’s ex-husband and, with the power of cocktails, scrambled eggs and other talents, wipe years off his appearance. (Okay, that one’s just a little less far-fetched.) Where the ex-husband has to eat up because he has “guests coming to the party.” Wait, that’s not a euphemism for being pregnant, is it?
The drama gets drawn out further by Marty restating the obvious – well, except that Luke isn’t actually playing against his son. Picky, I know.
Whig highlights/lowlights: reasonably accurate batter’s box, Exploding Home Plate Syndrome, Leo tipping off his pitch during the windup. Pedro’s drawn an ‘S’ in the batter’s box. Stands for “sit back, this might take a while.” How funny would it be if we had a week of strips in which Pedro just fouled off a pitch every day? Come on, Henry, I dares ya!
Shadow Pedro looks like he’s taking a cricket swing. Did y’all notice that the US upset Pakistan in the cricket World Cup? Of course you did. (That link has a nice summary of the rules of cricket btw.) Will this game take as long as the the typical cricket match? We’ll see…
Ah, love. It makes people do crazy things. It makes girls who never learned how to order at a fast food restaurant fall for boys from the rez who never owned a decent pair of basketball sneakers. It makes them round up eight months to almost a year. It makes the no-fast-food-ordering-girl’s castoff ex start not-so-subtly pressuring another girl person into dating them. It makes bracelets multiply, change size and color. It makes… well, you get the picture.
As has been noted repeatedly by everyone associated with TWIM, bloggers and commenters alike, Keri is taking a page from their mom’s playbook: the best love interests are the ones that can’t get you pregnant. Still they’re taking this kinda slow, possibly for emotional rather than genital reasons. Looks like Tobe’s itchy trigger finger is gonna force Keri to come to some kind of decision sooner than later.
Genuinely like some aspects of the artwork today. Shocking, I know, given how much I complain about Whigham phoning it in more often than not. Dorothy’s swoony hands give Phoebe Keener getting bonked on the head vibes. Keri’s gap-toothed look of surprise makes them look like their brother geeking out on D&D, and their all-iris, no-sclera left eye looks like Dorothy got revenge for getting her #&% kicked.
Tune in Monday when we find out if love is really love. teenchy out.
This Week in Milford 
