You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but Louie Anderson is one of the greatest basketball stars whoever lived. It all started back when he was 8-years-old, out on the blacktop with his friends, shooting hoops and talking about Nightsniffer. You know, that dog detective/lawyer/whatever all the kids like. Just on and on and on about how he's the greatest this and that... sheesh, why don't you just marry Nightsniffer? All the while, Louie continually made one basket after another without missing. His special knack continued on the courts where he actually lead his team to victory, thus he was no longer chosen last. The coach saw real potential in him and wanted to use him on his intramural squad. Now, despite being apparently very good at shooting hoops, Louie didn't think much of his talent and turned down Coach Rockwell's offer to stay at school an extra few hours and practice in favor of going home and sitting on his ass. But when his friends encouraged him, he decided to go for it. At the first game, Coach divides the two teams into shirts and skins, but Louie convinced Rockwell to let him switch teams, so we don't have to see his man-boobs. So while Louie tears it up on the B-ball court, Andy goes to the doctor for his usual checkup. The doc diagnoses him with being out of shape. That's an understatement, as Andy has always been a weird shape: pointed head on a big, round torso atop two spindly legs. In short, the doctor says he's too fat and needs to go on a diet regiment and get more exercise. Surprisingly, he takes the doctor's advice and decides to go buy a weight set, but when the price outweighed his wallet, he decided to improvise and construct his own makeshift weight room in the garage, constructing his own barbell with Grandma Helga's fruitcakes.
Louie's biggest problem in all this was his confidence, which as you may recall, he has very little, and his flabby underbelly being exposed to the world really doesn't help his image of himself and his self-respect. So after choking down their dinner of vegetables and fruits, Andy introduces Louie to his latest invention: the Anderson Lift and Crunch, everything for the man who wants to exercise, but is too lazy to do so. It includes a swinging refrigerator door so they can build up their arms opening and closing it. However, deciding to go the easy route, as usual, and try to cop out, Louie decided he was going to start shooting hoops badly. He threw game after game, with everybody wondering if he were jinxed. His friends knew what was up: Louie was far too self-conscious about his body, and so Grunewald, Jeannie and Toddler take to bodyshaming each other to cheer him up. It sorta works, I guess. As for Andy's exercise machine, he sold it to a door-to-door salesman for $25. Yeah, I can't see that coming back to bite him in the keister later on. Finally, it's time for the game. Since Louie's parents are in attendance, he asks his friend Teako if his are coming, and if you recall, Teako was the orphan boy whom Louie befriended in "Family Portrait." For some reason, they aired these episodes out of order, so at this point, Louie hadn't found out the truth, so Teako lies and says they couldn't make it. Well, maybe at this point he got adopted and his new parents... no, they just screwed up. It was quite a game, with Louie leading his team to victory, and Andy's constant nagging and attempts at coach weren't helping, so now it was the final round, just ten seconds left in the game, and the visiting team was ahead by 1 point. Instead of trying to make the shot himself, Louie passes the ball to Teako, who slam dunks it. Cedar Knoll wins, 55 to 54! Hooray! Andy tries to take credit for the win, saying he practically taught Louie all he knows, and then he invites everybody out for some donuts, everything's on Coach Rockwell. After that, Louie took all the life lessons he learned from his whole experience to heart, learned to accept himself as he was, and he agreed never to play basketball again. Andy gets a swift lesson in the school of hard knocks himself when he sees that salesman selling HIS exercise machine for $200. Cue muted trumpets.
Good episode with some good life lessons on self-esteem, your own self image, and how the choice to either improve yourself or let yourself go rests entirely on your own shoulders. I think most of us can relate to Louie's situation, especially those of us who are a bit on the flabby side. Well, if he thought wearing a jersey was bad, imagine how he must have felt having to shower with the other boys. They didn't show that, because it's a family show, but that's whole other avenue of self-consciousness right there. This episode is another good example of how much Andy's character has lightened up and is a bit on the goofy side now. Sure, he's always had a superiority complex and was wholly unaware of his own limitations and doesn't think things through, but he's not as grouchy as he used to be. His subplot is like something Homer Simpson would've done. I'm not saying Andy is stupid, but he's the textbook definition of vain. So anyway, I definitely recommend Do It or Donut, perfect for the chubby kid in all of us.
Louie's biggest problem in all this was his confidence, which as you may recall, he has very little, and his flabby underbelly being exposed to the world really doesn't help his image of himself and his self-respect. So after choking down their dinner of vegetables and fruits, Andy introduces Louie to his latest invention: the Anderson Lift and Crunch, everything for the man who wants to exercise, but is too lazy to do so. It includes a swinging refrigerator door so they can build up their arms opening and closing it. However, deciding to go the easy route, as usual, and try to cop out, Louie decided he was going to start shooting hoops badly. He threw game after game, with everybody wondering if he were jinxed. His friends knew what was up: Louie was far too self-conscious about his body, and so Grunewald, Jeannie and Toddler take to bodyshaming each other to cheer him up. It sorta works, I guess. As for Andy's exercise machine, he sold it to a door-to-door salesman for $25. Yeah, I can't see that coming back to bite him in the keister later on. Finally, it's time for the game. Since Louie's parents are in attendance, he asks his friend Teako if his are coming, and if you recall, Teako was the orphan boy whom Louie befriended in "Family Portrait." For some reason, they aired these episodes out of order, so at this point, Louie hadn't found out the truth, so Teako lies and says they couldn't make it. Well, maybe at this point he got adopted and his new parents... no, they just screwed up. It was quite a game, with Louie leading his team to victory, and Andy's constant nagging and attempts at coach weren't helping, so now it was the final round, just ten seconds left in the game, and the visiting team was ahead by 1 point. Instead of trying to make the shot himself, Louie passes the ball to Teako, who slam dunks it. Cedar Knoll wins, 55 to 54! Hooray! Andy tries to take credit for the win, saying he practically taught Louie all he knows, and then he invites everybody out for some donuts, everything's on Coach Rockwell. After that, Louie took all the life lessons he learned from his whole experience to heart, learned to accept himself as he was, and he agreed never to play basketball again. Andy gets a swift lesson in the school of hard knocks himself when he sees that salesman selling HIS exercise machine for $200. Cue muted trumpets.
Good episode with some good life lessons on self-esteem, your own self image, and how the choice to either improve yourself or let yourself go rests entirely on your own shoulders. I think most of us can relate to Louie's situation, especially those of us who are a bit on the flabby side. Well, if he thought wearing a jersey was bad, imagine how he must have felt having to shower with the other boys. They didn't show that, because it's a family show, but that's whole other avenue of self-consciousness right there. This episode is another good example of how much Andy's character has lightened up and is a bit on the goofy side now. Sure, he's always had a superiority complex and was wholly unaware of his own limitations and doesn't think things through, but he's not as grouchy as he used to be. His subplot is like something Homer Simpson would've done. I'm not saying Andy is stupid, but he's the textbook definition of vain. So anyway, I definitely recommend Do It or Donut, perfect for the chubby kid in all of us.