Okay, I’m genuinely baffled by what the Hell Buck is talking about. I mean, I think I’m aware that there are “bobblehead days” for major league teams, where toys are given out in the likeness of one of the star players. And he wishes he had that kind of fame. I get that part.
It’s the “not with my own head” that seems to come out of nowhere…that, I don’t get.
If I had to take a stab at it, I’d guess that Batiuk has no idea at all what sportos talk about when they get together, so any errant bit of nonsense is good enough to mail off to the printer. “What would sports fans do? I’ll use Google. Huh, ‘Bobblehead Day’? That sounds interesting! Let’s just click–oh, wait, time for Flash comics. Oh well, it’s probably just a day where they take off their heads and juggle them.”
Now, if it was comic book fans, every utterance would be accurate down to the smallest detail (unless one of those details is spelling Joe Shuster’s name correctly).
All of the above makes me wonder what this arc is supposed to be about. It’s clearly not about any of Batiuk’s passions; it seems too banal to be award bait; and it isn’t entertaining at all. Is it supposed to be heartwarming and sentimental? Because it’s nowhere near that.
That leaves the only remaining answer as “one more week of carp pumped out on the way to that 50th.”
Imagine if the last fifteen years of Peanuts had been panel after panel of Linus in a beanbag chair in front of the TV, Snoopy lying on top of his doghouse, and Charlie Brown with his head in his hands. No dialogue; just those things, over and over for years.
I suppose it could always be worse. Linda hands Buck a book. “I think you would’ve wanted to have Bull’s autographed copy of Lisa’s Story!” “Lisa’s Story? Oh wow, I’ve heard that book is supposed to be entirely awesome, uplifting and kind of humbling, at the same time. Oh, I’ll treasure this–and I can’t wait for the movie!”