Drought conditions have stricken Farmyard Golf Course. That, or the greenskeepers have spread manure over the greens. Not a problem for VT’s Alana Trinkle, she of the magical disappearing/reappearing/jumping from hand-to-hand golf glove, who places her shot from the bunker two feet from the pin. Then what? Time to turn to her coach and Wonder Twin Powers… Activate!
Shape of… a gender-ambiguous teen!
Form of… a bitter lesbian ex-golf pro!
Powers thus activated, Emily fawns over Alana publicly, showering her with the praise she never bestowed on her own children. Meanwhile, beady-eyed Gil stares at Dorothy, who looks like she’d rather be in France with Beldar and Prymaat.
What is it with these coaches constantly appearing at the side of players who just hit their shots? There are multiple foursomes on the course. Do Gil and Emily have residual Wonder Twin Powers of their own? Talk amongst yourselves. teenchy out.
meta: tdrew, will be glad to let you take Monday’s post. This cliffhanger is too suspenseful for my delicate constitution.
meta: As I sit here composing this post, mrs. teenchy walked into the room behind me, peered over my shoulder and asked, “What comic strip is that? Their heads look like they should be on Easter Island.”
Yesterday’s nonsense about the pending Gil/Beth nuptials takes an even more bizarre turn today. We gentle readers are expected to believe:
(1) The happy couple would invite rival schools’ coaches to their wedding, including the ex-wife of one of them
(b) The happy couple would hold their wedding ceremony in a high school gym
(iii) The mother of the groom, having lived through all of this for her son’s first marriage, would give a rat’s ass about (1) and (b)
Everything Rob posted yesterday about wedding planning is spot on. If this is Beth’s first rodeo, it would seem she’d care more about it; since it’s Gil’s second, Big Mama Thorp should keep her trap shut and her nose out of it. Not like she’s been in Milford all this time to make any judgement calls. Pretty rich that Big Mama would think Beth’s not good enough for Gil, given his first wife left him for another woman. We haven’t seen any such inclination on Beth’s part… yet. Given Barajas’ obsession with LGBTQ characters, it’s only a matter of time.
As for that first wife, she remains one of the more miserable characters in this iteration of the strip. While Gil seems to have happily moved on, Emily still feels compelled to dunk on her ex-mother-in-law. She has also decided she’s not marrying Ericka. Which one of those statements earned the high-five from rando VT female?
More importantly, which career does she plan on focusing on now: professional golfer or high school athletic director? She certainly hasn’t been focusing on her children, her golf pro/live-in lover, or her high school crush who won’t leave her alone. If anything, she appears to have been focusing on her diet. Yo, Henry: if Emily’s not planning on rejoining the tour, it’s time to write Ericka out of the strip.
Bizarre Cameos Dept.: the role of Emily Clover is being played by the late John Madden in P1 and by Britney Spears in P3; the role of Coach Kim is being played by Gil Thorp in bronzer.
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.
Good hustle out there by Austin Field, swatting away that misshapen brown lump and the Goshen receiver’s head at the same time. Of course, it’s a wonder either Austin or that receiver can see anything in the dark.
Good encouragement by Gil with his ridiculously long arm. Can’t wait to see him coach hoops and swat away his players’ layups Wilt Chamberlain style. Losing that beard took years off his face, too.
Good announcing by Marty… not. He botched this on Wednesday by saying Goshen responded “with a touchdown of their own.” Goshen could only respond with a touchdown of their own if Milford had already scored a touchdown. If they have, then Marty has the halftime score wrong. If they haven’t, then Marty didn’t describe Goshen’s score correctly. Someone needs a breathalyzer test here. Maybe it’s not Marty.
Good grief, it’s Sunday night and I’m just getting the Saturday strip posted. Sorry about that, gentle readers. Musical inspiration for today’s post title, courtesy of Henry Mancini.
“What a waste it is to lose one’s mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is.” – Dan Quayle
This strip has devolved into as much gibberish as Dan Quayle’s long-ago attempt to quote the motto of the United Negro College Fund. Sportsball players dressed in football helmets, t-shirts, sweatpants, shin pads and oven mitts activate their Wonder Twin powers* give awkward high-fives to sportsball players dressed in different-colored football helmets, t-shirts, sweatpants, shin pads and oven mitts. A coach who wasn’t coaching the team playing offers congratulations to the other team’s coach who was actually coaching the team playing.
That team’s coach replies with more gibberish and a startled, deer-in-the-headlights look. Granted, “if you say so” could be a legit response to a “good game” from an opposing coach whose team just whipped yours. The rest? Talk from someone beaten into submission and publicly humiliated. The beaten into submission part, we already saw. (Still waiting to hear about that time Cami fought Gil.) Public humiliation? That’s your bailiwick, Gil.
Even the wimpy Kaz-with-jheri-curls coach has gibberish for a name. Gerads? Is it a typo? Aren’t there some letters missing there? Let’s throw that typo into Google and see what we get:
“Mitch Gerads is an Eisner and Ringo award-winning illustrator who has made a career out of bringing humanity and realism to the superhuman and unreal. He is best known for his critically acclaimed work at DC Comics with writer Tom King on Mister Miracle, Batman, and The Sheriff of Babylon. He lives and draws in Phoenix, Arizona, with his wife, son, and cat.”
More inside baseball from Whigham, like his constant drawing of Punisher logos on t-shirts. Here’s a tip, Chief: Stop with the comic book stuff, Google “hockey game highlights” and use the pictures you see as the basis for your hockey action drawings. We know you can do it for WWII-era fighter planes; apply that attention to detail to sports – you know, what this strip is ostensibly about.
Oh, and Barajas, while you’re reading: Google “hockey offensive strategies,” read some of the results, and pepper this strip with those buzzwords. That way you won’t have to resort to putting your characters in a kumbaya circle and have them sing nursery rhymes.
I’m jumping Rob’s train with my post title and reference. I spent most of the day today in lovely Delaware, home not only of a Milford but also of George Thorogood. And out the door teenchy went.
*Click this hyperlink please, gentle readers, and see who the Milford sportsball star was that day. She was an instant star then much like she is an instant hockey coach now.
The Surrealist movement emerged from the ashes of the First World War in order to, per its founder André Breton, “resolve the previously contradictory conditions of dream and reality into an absolute reality, a super-reality.” Surrealism encompassed painting, writing, theatre, cinema, and photography, among other areas of media. Perhaps the most famous Surrealist painting is René Magritte’s The Treachery ofImages, often referred to by the phrase appearing below the main image, “Ceci n’est pas une pipe.”
Surrealist theatre emerged on the stages of Paris during the 1920s, paving the way for the Theatre of Cruelty in the 1930s and the Theatre of the Absurd in the 1950s. Acting in surrealist theatre is characterized by, among other things:
– incomplete, not fully developed characters; – unmotivated characters – sometimes a dissociation between actor and character – use of clichéd dialogue – mechanical, robotic movement – telegraphic speech – nonsensical dialogue including non sequiturs
The stagecraft in surrealist theatre is often characterized by:
– vague scenery, often not specifically denoting a locale – use of masks
Plots in surrealist theatre, such as they are, are usually characterized by:
– numerous quick scenes – deliberate abandonment of clarity, order and rational thought – confusing storylines – dreamlike sequences – acrobatics – disjointed events in the plot – use of asides
This strip has truly devolved into surrealist theatre. Random images of things that in theory could happen during a football game. Random words strung together that in theory could read as being spoken in sequence during a football game. Nothing to connect them in anything resembling a linear narrative.
Let’s recap yet again:
Last Wednesday, Gil was proud of Leo, who was on fire and Milford was up 18-3.
Last Thursday, Pedro penetrated Keri Thorp the Milford defense with ease and Coach Ochoa broke the fourth wall to get the readers to pray for a miracle.
Last Friday, Milford scores “another touchdown” and Tobe yells “Call it!” Call what? The game? Is Milford still in the lead?
Last Saturday, Pedro needs to stop the clock so he goes down with a SNAP!
On Monday, Pedro “can’t… move it” and Luke calls for a medica.
Yesterday, Pedro gets to the choppa and Kim and a confident Gil agree to resume the game.
Now look at today’s strip. Panel one features who must be Pedro’s backup throwing a pass with a motion that looks more appropriate for playing shuffleboard. Before the ball has traveled the length of his arm, the announcer (Marty? Lachlan?) has called it as being intercepted. Panel two features a zebra signaling a score as he stands directly beneath the goalposts on a starry, starry night. Who scored and how? Panel three has Milford players behaving in typical Milford fashion when something goes their way. A pair of disembodied hands high-five in the foreground while fists – some shadowy, others not – are pumping in the background.
We’re told the game is now tied. When in the last week did Valley Tech erase the 15-point deficit? Did the lead change hands after that? How many strips will it take to cover that last minute? Who are the sponsers [sic] of Mudlark radio broadcasts? We have no certain way of piecing all of this together without leaving substantial parts of it to our own imaginations. Perhaps that is the artist’s intent after all.
I do hope you gentle readers will humor this digression into an analysis of the shape Gil Thorp has taken over the past week-plus. I also hope that it doesn’t drive you away from this blog and that you’ll stick around to see how this game plays out. I’m sure the ending will be… surreal.
The fun never ends in Milford as The Hammmmer’s blind magic rubs off on another Mudlark hurler. No-hitters aren’t that uncommon in high school sports given the frequent talent disparities across teams, but it’s a little surprising that a girl whose making the team came as a bit of a surprise* throws one in, what, her second or third start? Madison must really suck this year.
The Capitols’ suckiness extends to their sportsmanship as well. The sports world is full of egregious examples of fights breaking out during postgame handshakes; Juwan Howard v. Wisconsin (speaking of Madison) is only one in a long line. I’m not inserting any here but you can go to YouTube and take your pick. What set Big Barda off here? Was it that Dorothy didn’t take her glove off to high-five right-handed? Does it really matter if you’re high-fiving and not shaking hands?
What should be interesting (that is, should be interesting but will probably be disappointing) is the response to Big Barda’s elbow to the back. Dorothy has already turned the other cheek, but will her catcher – who previously threw hands at her – start throwing hands in her defense?
*Note that both Dot’s making the team and hurling the no-no both elicit one-word responses from Keri.
On to baseball and the Mudlarks’ season opener (?) against (?) and those are only two of the blanks we’re left to fill in.
It has to be a home game since the grand slam delivers instant victory. How does a team that loads the bases and wins the game with a grand salami struggle? Ask anyone who’s had the frustration of watching their team puts lots of runners in scoring position and fail to bring them home. Not really a blank, and might explain Marty’s kinda blase home run call.
No, the biggest blank is drawn (along with that hexagonal home plate) in P3. NASA might’ve seen Dee’s homer from space but no one here on Earth saw it. We did see Dee twist his ankle touching home, though. A bit odd to see only one player – and that one not the on-deck batter – out to congratulate Darius. Could be one of those intentional cold shoulders players often get coming back into the dugout.
It’s early in the season; plenty of time for the team and the writer of the strip to find their rhythm. The veteran artist, on the other hand, should have found his some time ago.
This Week in Milford 
