That’s really unfair of me to write, TBH. Emily officially stopped switch hitting off the course the day she signed those divorce papers, though in all likelihood she stopped long before then.
When this strip featured golf in the past, it was almost exclusively as a summer filler arc and predominantly involved someone hustling or otherwise cheating at the game. In the Barajas Era, it has been used as the vehicle to destroy the Thorps’ marriage, transforming Emily f/k/a Mimi from a generally pleasant, generally athletic wife and mother who could impart life lessons of her own into a miserable, misshapen lesbian who thinks only of herself.
That’s also really unfair of me to write, too. Emily doesn’t only think of herself; she also thinks about exacting revenge on her ex-husband. In so doing she follows in the footsteps of the pre-firing Luke Martinez and the God-only-knows-why Mitch Gerads. Pretty sure I’ve pointed this out previously but it is entirely possible for a coach of one of Milford’s conference rivals to have a relationship with another coach that isn’t based on seething hatred and spite. (See Andrews, Tod.)
Speaking of coaching relationships, anyone find it bizarre that Kim has this sort of fawning respect for Emily? After all, he was named VT’s AD after Luke’s firing; now she has his job yet he’s still on the staff. Don’t tell me Kim saw himself as a placeholder and now sees Emily as somehow being more worthy of the position?
I’m sure I’ll have more to say about this but it’s early Sunday morning as I write and I need to crash. teenchy out.
Not gonna lie; I’m loving today’s artwork, including the coloring. Black-and-orange Valley Tech gives off an OSU (or is it OSU? either way, it ain’t tOSU) vibe. All-red Milford is kinda Maryland-ish, if only for the shape of the block “M” on the helmet. The players are positioned in a way real players might be, and the helmets and pads look realistic as well. Guest Artist Kit Mills has improved upon his previous drawings of football players in this strip.
Gil arguing with Joe the Zebra is more than decent, too. The migrating Milford monogram across Gil’s chest is a minor quibble. Gil’s being on a first-name basis with Joe would be a major quibble for Coach Gerads. But what did Joe call? Wrong answers only.
The Milford Redcoat Marching Band is back, albeit looking a little undisciplined. They’ve lost their sheet music but gained some swing. Honestly they wouldn’t look out of place leading a second line in New Orleans. Kudos, Mills.
Really the only letdown is the WDIG announcer (Marty? Jackie?)’s call in the final panel. Unless this is some kind of charity round-robin game, the proper call would be that “neither team” has scored. What can we expect from a writer who doesn’t know and is unwilling or unable to learn?
It might be interesting to find out whether Leo’s injury was serious enough to keep him from returning to the starting QB job, or whether freshman Jones has simply earned it. Asking too much, I know.
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?
If it’s not obvious from that clip, Bring It On was a movie ostensibly about the world of competitive cheerleading but with a dose of cultural appropriation as a subtext. The cheer squad from the mostly-white, middle/upper-middle class Rancho Carne High School has been stealing routines from the mostly non-white, working class East Compton High team. Who will win the big cheer competition? Who will learn life lessons? Watch if you care to find out.
“Rancho Carne” is Spanish for “Meat Ranch.” Read into that what you will. I’m trying to resist the urge to read more into today’s strip featuring cheerleaders in a featureless void. Instead I’ll take it at face value: as filler to stretch the Milford-Goshen game action for the entire week. teenchy out.
Your old pal teenchy is slipping. First, I thought Sears was Dorth this past Wednesday. I corrected myself in the edit but the damage was done. Hairstyles are often the only way to distinguish characters in the Merrill Era, and I’m only just picking up on that. Now I’m having a tough time finding anything to snark on with today’s strip.
Credit where credit is due to Barajas today. He has actually worked accurate wrestling terms into the dialogue. A “half” is, of course, a half nelson. A “tri” is a triangle hold, a submission hold where a wrestler wraps their legs around their opponent’s neck and arm, forming a triangle shape. Finally, an “exposure” is when a wrestler exposes their opponent’s back to the mat. Way to do the work, Henry.
Does the artwork reflect the dialogue? You be the judge. Sears’ Oakwood singlet has changed color from the last time we saw her wrestle but, given the color change on Silver that we saw on Wednesday, I’m not sure we can lay that on Merrill. The split-screen last panel is a nice touch: Sears and Rimsha, two underdogs in their own minds, are being set up for a final boss battle while the juxtaposition of their unis calls to mind the divine within us all. Ponder that and, with any luck, I’ll be back again on Wednesday. ॐ…
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-“
Finally, the hot girl-on-girl action this strip has promised since August of 2022 but has never delivered!*
This is another of those strips that have become a regular event in the Barajas Era: the dialogueless strip that’s going to take up the width of a page in Gil Thorp: The Graphic Novel. It may or may not have other strips overlaying part of it, depending on how it’s laid out. No amount of overlay will conceal Whigham’s slipshod artwork, however. He did draw in some butt dimples, so there’s your fanservice.
Mildly interesting that the turnbuckles at the Convention Center bear the Mystery, Alaska Milford High block “M.” Just more attention to detail from The Chief.
No dialogue from Barajas to conceal, so yhs is gonna phone in the rest of the post in similar fashion to the way those two phoned in today’s strip. Talk amongst yourselves.
meta: On the advice of several of you gentle readers, yhs got tix to see Local H, playing with Helmet, at The Queen in Wilmington, Delaware, next month. Sadly that show has been canceled. Quel dommage. teenchy out.
*Wonder how many hits that sentence will get this blog.
After Milford’s kumbaya moment, they come back with a stunning three-point goal at the buzzer to win the game. What’s that you say? Goals in hockey only count one point – even if they’re scored with a well-done hamburger? And they don’t count at all if they’re not completely over the goal line when the buzzer sounds? Why let silly little details get in the way of the manufactured drama?
This looks like what we’ll be getting with the hockey strips this season. Action that looks vaguely realistic but ignores the basic rules of the game as well as the equipment with which it’s played. Closeups with exploding objects and onomatopoeia from the comic book artist. Stilted dialogue sprinkled with buzzwords that reads like nothing a human being would ever say, like assembly instructions for an Amazon branded product. Reliance on motivational tactics for nursery schoolers rather than actual coaching of the sport.
I don’t recall there ever being a hockey-related arc in Gil Thorp for as long as I’ve read it, which is not to say that there’s never been one. To me, this feels like a massive missed opportunity to write about the introduction of a new high school sports program and the inevitable growing pains that come with it. Getting the team to develop a style while learning the finer points of the game. Whipping up enthusiasm in the townsfolk who may have never watched a hockey game in person before. Finding newer and wackier ways to raise money for equipment. Instead, it’s just more background noise in a strip that’s become predominantly about relationships, sexuality and gender identity.
Could be I’m letting my pedantry get in the way of enjoying the strip. I’m gonna add a poll at the end of today’s post and I’d be grateful to hear what y’all think.
Today’s post title inspired by the onomatopoeia and the guy who frequently referred to people as hockey pucks.
This Week in Milford 
