Friday Night Lights - Episode 107 -- Homecoming

In honor of Friday Night Lights earning a full-season pickup from NBC (WOOO HOOO!), we're kicking things off this week with a cheer, courtesy of Star22:

We're the Dillon Panthers and we're here to stay,
We're gonna kick your ass so come on, let's play.
Smashin' through the defense, Rigs has got the ball,
Coach Taylor's on the sideline, Saracen's givin' his all.
So stand up and cheer: FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT
We've got the means to go all night!
We're the Dillon Panthers in the yellows and blues,
With clear eyes and full hearts, WE CAN'T LOSE

Thanks, NBC -- you stepped up your game.

It's Homecoming Week in Dillon, which is like Rivalry Week with less vandalism and more football players who peaked at eighteen and have headed downhill ever since. Oh, I'm sorry, was that a spoiler? At what looks like a pep rally on steroids (damn! there's another spoiler!), Lyla and the rest of the pussycats perform a dance/cheer routine on a stage for a large and appreciative crowd. A banner overhead welcomes back the alumni. Lyla looks good up there, her ponytail flying high and perky. Tim comes to meet her as she steps off the stage, calling the whole thing a waste of time. Lyla says she knows he hates her, which he protests immediately. "I don't hate you, Lyla," he says. "It'd be a lot easier if I did." She says she can't talk to him when he's like this (i.e., hammered already), and that if he thinks being drunk all the time's going to make any of this easier, he's wrong. "It's not cool or charming; it's just pathetic and gross. I feel sorry for you. I really do," she says and walks away, leaving Tim staring after her, looking a little lost. My Ever-Patient Mister watched this scene, then summed up the love triangle, saying, "It'd be tough to hit that and walk away." I nodded and said, "OT3!" He wondered what the heck I was talking about, so I drew him a picture:

OT3

Mayor Lucy introduces the star quarterback from the 2000 state championship team by playing a radio broadcast of the championship game's last six seconds, which the gathered listen to with their eyes closed and their heads bowed, as if they're in church and Slammin' Sammy's the preacher. Buddy Garrity mouths along with the words, which is creepy as hell. Lucas "Maneater" Mize, the game-winning QB, comes on stage in his letterman jacket to a roar from the Panther faithful. Out in the crowd, Smash's little sis tells him that'll be him one day. The party continues into the evening with live music, daddies dancing with daughters, and a whole crew, including SmashMama, doing the electric slide. Even Matt's getting down a little with his funky white boy self, to Landry's apparent dismay.

Lucas comes up to Smash and introduces himself, asking if he came up with his nickname on his own. "Yeah, well, 'Maneater' was taken," Smash says. Hee. Both Taylors are there, too, and Lucas tells Smash that the coach gave him private training his sophomore year. "I needed the money," Taylor says uncomfortably. When Tami asks how he's doing, Lucas tells them he's got an insurance agency in Dallas, but he's already given out all the business cards he brought. Taylor tells Lucas that Smash is one of the best running backs in the state of Texas, "when he's listening, which is very rare." Lucas says Smash must be feeling the pressure of the big homecoming game, what with Grady Hunt being there and all, and when Smash is like "Grady Who?" Lucas takes him off to meet the man who's been recruiting the top college players since before Smash was born. Basically, if you make Shady Grady's top 100 list, you're good to go.

Smash greets Shady Grady with a rapid-fire staccato list of his stats and achievements, ending with the fact that he's all that and he's just a junior! Shady Grady says, "I'm worried about his confidence." I'm worried Smash will sprain his tongue one day, and then what will he do? Smash says, "You got a list? I don't want to just be on it. I want to be number one." Shady Grady says, "I hope you play as good as you talk." You and all of Dillon, Shady.

Credits and commercials. We Are Marshall? We are there.

At the Rehab Corral, Stumpy and Jason are having a snack together in what looks like a cafeteria. Stumpy's going on and on, something about sushi, but neither Jason nor I are paying him any mind, and it's not like he can snap his fingers to get our attention. Okay, I admit it; that was bad. Stumpy calls Jason on it, saying, "What, just because I have stumps, do I not bleed?" I like Stumpy. Coach Taylor walks in, and Jason introduces him to Stumpy Corey, who offers his right stump and apologizes for the potato chip crumbs on it. Heeeee! He excuses himself and rolls off when Taylor asks for a minute with Jason. After joking around about a player who tossed his nachos in the line dance at the rally, Taylor gets serious as he tells Jason he's there as an ambassador for the school, and that they all want Jason to come to the Homecoming Game. Jason's not sure. Taylor tells him he'll understand if Jason doesn't want to go but asks him to think about it.

We've got strippers! Right here in Bush country! Poles and all! Maybe that was one of NBC's negotiating points -- "We'll give you the back nine if you'll give us the front 36D." Matt and Julie order another round of Jagermeister shots while slipping crisp ten dollar bills into the sequined thong of a honey blonde with a butterfly tattooed just above her… No, of course it's not Matt and Julie, but I had you going for a minute, didn't I? Instead, we've got Trouble. And Billy Riggins. Pardon me while I facepalm. Hey, Trouble, this is where your GED will get you. You might want to think about boning up on your algebra, and I don't mean the teacher. Billy's trying to convince Trouble to go in with him throwing a rave, saying they can bring in a ton o' money doing it. Trouble's big sister, who apparently works at the club, comes over and metaphorically poops on their party, but Trouble's got dollar signs in her eyes, and she's all for the idea. Trouble's sister, who I guess we'll call Toil since she works for a living, says Dillon's not a college town, so the party won't work. Trouble points out that it's got a high school, so charging however much a head to get a bunch of underage kids plastered at an "Anti-Homecoming" party sounds like a grand idea! Don't even get me started. I'm just going to pretend there aren't a thousand legal and moral reasons not to go there; consider the sermon preached and the soap box stood upon, okay? Moving on. Toil tells Trouble she has to leave since she's "too young to be in here anyway." Glad somebody remembered that. Billy tosses a sarcastic, "Clear eyes full hearts can't lose" after her. Dick.

Later, Billy comes home with a six-pack to find Tim there, still wearing his jersey from the big rally. Billy tosses him a beer. Tim tosses it back, saying he's good. Billy says, "Dude, nightcap? Sports Center?" like they do that every night, and Tim tells him he quit. "Since when?" Billy asks. "Since now," says Tim, and Billy laughs at him. I know I said I was off the soap box, but, seriously? You suck, Billy. It's no wonder Timmy's screwed up if you're what passes for adult supervision in his world.

At the Rehab Corral the next day, Jason and Lyla loll together in the pool. Lyla's holding Jason up in the water with his legs draped over a noodle, her face tucked in his neck. I wouldn't be surprised if Jason has a "visitor." He asks her if she sees Tim more than before, and she deflects, saying not really. Then she changes the subject, telling him she's proud of him. She says Phil told her Jason's the best patient he ever had. She's obviously uncomfortable, and it's clear that Jason picks up on that but he lets it go. It's a really pretty scene, a pretty boy and a pretty girl close together in a clear and peaceful pool, light glinting off the water, but below the surface they've got dangerous undercurrents.

In the next scene, Matt and Landry are driving through the sunny Texas countryside in Landry's craptastic station wagon, enjoying some tunes and the wind in their hair. I guess they've made up since last week's spat? Matt says, "Just stop talking about Julie already," to which Landry tartly replies, "You know what? That's just what I do. I pry, I probe, I wheedle. When I get a little crazy sometimes, I cajole." Oooh, Landry, you're going to rock some English major's world someday… Matt leans his head back and says, "Yeah, but mostly you annoy." HA! Landry wants Matt to ask Julie out on a date. "You've obviously got the mojo; you just don't know how to use it." Landry tells him he needs to get "the eye of the tiger" and makes a 'BOOM' gesture that takes us nicely to …

…a crunching tackle on the practice field. Lucas Mize is there watching. So is Shady Grady. Smash makes a good play, and when one of the defensive players bitches at him, he says, "Don't hate! Accelerate!" Even with Shady Grady on the sidelines, things are a lot more relaxed with Voodoo gone. Matt's acting very QB1-like, and it's all flowing smoothly, which is a nice change. Taylor huddles up his players and breaks down the offense of their upcoming opponent for them, saying, "I don't expect y'all to contain this offense. I expect you to shut the damn thing down." Yes, SIR! Smash presses Lucas into service, saying he wants to see if Lucas has any magic left. Lucas still has a strong arm, and he makes Smash look good with some long receptions. "Nice hands," Shady Grady says to Mac. "Soft as a Tijuana hooker," Mac says. Inappropriate!! And eww!

Billy and Trouble have found a barren and desolate stretch of land for their Anti-Homecoming. Trouble tells Billy that Toil and her merry maids are going to work the party for $50 a head plus tips. She says every party needs hostesses, and now they've got ten of them, and they're strippers to boot. Ah, it's the dream of every network executive high school boy. I take a minute to wonder what exactly "work the party" means, but then decide I probably don't want to know. Trouble's leaning back, her body stretched long and curvy across the hood of Billy's truck, her shirt riding high and her jeans riding low. Damn, she's a fine example of God's handiwork. My E-P Mister made me pause twice during this scene.

We cut to Jason having lunch with his folks at the Rehab Corral. He's got a fork tucked in his hand brace, showing surprising dexterity feeding himself, which is cool to see. It's apparently been eight weeks since the injury, but the team's only played three games -- Westlake, South Millbank, and Arnett Mead. Seems like a shortened schedule, but since it's a TV show, I'll let it slide. Besides, I don't really want to have to recap watch a game every week -- we wouldn't have enough time for all the teen drama! His dad wants him to go to the game, his mom doesn't, and Jason, understandably, doesn't want to talk about it there. Does it seem like I'm rushing you? Because I'm kind of in a hurry to get to…

Ohhhhhh. The training room at the field house echoes with the sound of Timmy Riggins lifting weights. A lot of weight, apparently. He's struggling, sweating, his neck corded, working manfully to press his load to its peak. "Riggins is gonna give himself a coronary," Matt says, but the groaning and grunting noises Tim's making bring something else entirely to mind. While I'm enjoying that, Mac hands Smash a note, saying Grady Hunt wants Smash to call him. There's cat-calling and bragging from the team and Smash, respectively. As the camera pulls back we see that Tim's shot his weighty wad, and now he's hunched over on the bench, breathing hard…as am I.

I'm still recovering from Tim and his Lusty Barbells while Lucas and Coach T have dinner at a place that's not the diner or Applebee's. Yay for a new location! They're sitting across from each other on long benches, with strangers on both sides, and it's really not the place for Lucas to drop the following bombs, but as we'll see, desperation doesn't allow much room for niceties: Lucas blew out his knee his sophomore year, met a girl, first lost his focus then his scholarship, dropped out of college, and didn't graduate. There's no insurance agency; in fact, he comes right out and asks Coach Taylor for a job. Taylor's taken aback, to say the least, but says he can certainly look into it. Lucas seems appreciative, but he also has an air of entitlement, like he expects things to go his way, even when it's apparent they haven't for quite some time.

Commercials. Remember me telling you about Colt McCoy, the phenom quarterback for the University of Texas? Well, he injured his right shoulder on a touchdown dive in the first series of plays against Kansas State on Saturday night. He'd completed all four of his passes leading up to the score, which put Texas up 7-0. The final score? Kansas State won 45-42, a HUGE upset, while Colt stood on the sideline and watched his excitable replacement, freshman Jevan Snead, throw one too-high, too-low, too-fast, or too-slow pass after another. Yes, Matt Saracens are everywhere.

The next morning, a rough-looking Eric tells Tami about Lucas' sorry tale, including the fact that he has a 4-year-old kid. Tami looks shocked. "That is the most depressing thing I've ever heard," she says. Guess she hasn't heard about the Anti-Homecoming yet. Eric says he's not the kid's father; he coached him for one semester six years ago and he doesn't know why Lucas came to him. Tami agrees, saying Lucas isn't Eric's responsibility, but that the town does that to these kids -- makes them into idols, and when they get out in the big cold world, where people don't give them things all the time, they fall flat on their faces. "It's a shame," she says. "What're you gonna do?" Eric's got no freakin' idea.

The Rehab Corral has its own training room -- I like the juxtaposition of the two weight areas. Herc the Jerc and Jason are working out together, while Jason listens to Herc tell him a story about a head trainer from Villanova who had Lou Gehrig's disease. For a whole season, the guy sat in his wheelchair at every game and let his teammates rub his head for good luck. "It was sick, bro," Herc says. Jason doesn't see a problem with it. "Well, that's cuz you're an idiot," Herc says. "Why would you want to let them make you into some pathetic mascot?" Jason says he wouldn't be a mascot; he'd be honored. The phone rings, cutting off whatever else Herc would jerkishly say. It's Lyla, but Jason doesn't answer it, and Herc badgers him until Jason fesses up his fear that Tim and Lyla are doin' it. Herc says, "You gotta go to that game now. You look that sumbitch in the eye and you see what's up." Jason looks at him and seems to agree.

At the Riggins' house, we get backstory! Yes, actual backstory! Billy tells Trouble that he could have been a professional golfer (I guess the drunken putting should have been a clue?) but then 9/11 happened, and a tournament got cancelled, then his dad left, and Tim came to live with him. "Adios, golf career. Hello taking care of your brother," he says. So that was five years ago…Tim would have been 12 or 13? And Billy, what, 19 or 20? Trouble asks about their mom, to which Billy says, "She was a mess." She spent her time sucking down bourbon and coke, chain-smoking menthol lights, always screaming about something. In his three years playing ball at Dillon High, she never went to a game. Awww! We sure are products of our environment, aren't we? Is she dead? I wonder what life would have been like for Tim (and Billy) if Tim had moved in with the Street family instead. "Sorry," Billy says. "I don't usually whine." Nag, heckle, ridicule? Yes. Whine? No. Trouble says she learned more about the Riggins family in two minutes than she learned in a year dating Tim. "He doesn't talk much," she understates. "No, ma'am, you're right about that," Billy says.

Shady Grady's paying a visit to Smash's apartment. Smash does what he does best: sell himself with golden patter. He downplays Grady's concern about his small stature, saying, "It's not the size, it's the heart." That's what all the boys say, Smash! He wants to buy the biggest house in the county for his mama, an Escalade for his sister Sheila, and a pony for Little Sis. Aww! Little girls are the same everywhere. Well, mine wants a unicorn, but I'm sure she'd settle for a Shetland. It's hard to tell whether Grady's impressed or just bemused by Smash's verbal barrage ("Smashball, baby!"), but one thing is clear -- Smash is the center of his family's world and they love him to bits.

The diner windows are getting all gussied up in Panther blue and gold for Homecoming, courtesy of the rally girls, I assume. Through Landry's windshield, we see Julie walk up, bitching to a friend about Homecoming, saying, "So what? You've graduated; now you're fat and old." Watch it, girly; you, too, will turn forty one day. Landry points her out to Matt and says, "I wish you'd just work with me, Romeo. I mean, come on, just go forth and multiply." No, Matt! Go forth if you must, but please do your best not to multiply!

Tim takes his sober self to the streets, running sockless in his torn-up Panther shirt to the beat of something hard-driving and hip-hoppy, with lyrics just garbled enough that I can't i.d. the song on Google. Back at his house, Trouble's still cozied up to the wrong Riggins. She laughs when Billy gives her a hard time about the plain text flyer she made to promote the Anti-Homecoming. She's all giggly, like a real girl. I hate to say it, but she's got more spark and sparkle with Billy than she had with Tim and Connor Prick combined, though it could just be because nothing's gone wrong yet. I'm not sure Billy Riggins is really the direction she wants to go but it's nice to see her excited about something, even if it's just a stupid party and Tim Riggins' no-good brother. Tim comes in breathing hard and sweaty, just like I like him. He's not too pleased to see Trouble. He tells Billy somebody from his office called and said she hopes he's feeling better. Billy says he took a sick day, no big deal. Trouble explains about the party, then says, "Not that it's any of your business. We broke up, remember?" This is where I'd like to see Tim come out from behind his lank-haired monosyllabic reserve for once, Smash up and tell her, "Your loss, darlin'. I've been putting it to the sweetest piece of tail in three counties. Rigs has got the moves, baby!" Wouldn't that be great? Trouble takes him the flyer, asking when he quit drinking, but Tim's done. He tells her to keep her flyer and to have fun, then leaves.

We had to pause the next scene a couple of times, too. Lyla's in bed in her room, curled up like a kitten around her comforter and pillows, talking to Jason on the phone and exposing quite a bit of comely thigh. The scene cuts between them as they talk about whether Jason should come to the game. They're shot in such extreme close-up that I could name each individual pore on their faces, if they had any. He's in the dark, she's in the light, which is probably not as meaningful as it seems, but I thought I'd point it out. Jason says he doesn't want attention for being hurt. "Come check out the freak show; don't feed the animals," he says. "It's not like that," Lyla says. "People just want to see you, you know? I want to see you." Jason says, "Is that right?" Then he asks, "So, what're you wearing?" HEE! Lyla laughs. Jason presses her, "Come on, Kermit or Miss Piggy?" Lyla says, "Oh, my God, that was eighth grade, you dork," which makes Jason laugh, too. I don't want to know how he knows what she wore to bed in eighth grade, do I? They're really good together, easy and natural, and it's nice seeing them like this, even if it's just over the phone. He says he's sure it would make his dad happy if he went to the game since he's called a bazillion times. He says tentatively, "And I guess you want me to go?" She says she just told him she does, so he says all right, he'll go. "Good," she says. "It'll be fine," Jason says. "Everything'll be fine." Keep telling yourself that, sweetie; maybe you can make it come true.

Commercials. Yesterday, I listened in as my 5-year-old watched "Barbie of Swan Lake" on her little DVD player. In addition to Barbie, and, um, a swan, the movie also features a unicorn. And what's the unicorn's name? LYLA.

At the field house on game day, Lucas Mize drops by to see how his future's coming along, but Coach Taylor's got some bad news for him: there's no assistant coaching position available. Lucas snots, "Did you even ask?" which Taylor and I don't appreciate. Lucas takes the news with ill grace and departs. I hope that's the last we see of him.

It's the Beverage Barn! Do they have drive-through liquor stores up north? Or is that just a southern thing? I'm as appalled as ever at the scheme Billy and Trouble have cooked up. Now an open bar, complete with lemon and lime garnishes, has been added to the plan. Maybe I'm sheltered, but this whole thing smacks of Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland saying, "Let's put on a show!" only with the potential for alcohol poisoning, date rape, DUIs, lawsuits and life-shattering tragedy. Damn that soap box! It snuck up on me again! Trouble's nudged up the keg order from sixteen to twenty-two. When Billy protests, she says, "The worst thing that could happen is that we run out of booze." Really? Because I can think of ten things worse than that off the top of my head, starting with the list above. "If we want this thing to work, we've got to think big," she says. How about thinking smart instead?

In the locker room, it looks like Smash has come in early to study the playbook, which surely he knows like the back of his hand. Coach Taylor walks in, surprised to find him there, since it's four hours 'til game time. Smash asks him about Grady Hunt, saying he seems to have the power to make or break him. "You're a prospect," Taylor says. "There's gonna be a lot of Grady Hunts coming in and out of here the next few years, looking at you." Smash's not too sure about that, and when have we ever seen Smash without his SuperSmash bravado on? Never! It's the Anti-Smash, and I don't like it one bit. Give me back my Smashmouth! Don't let the bad man harsh your glow! Taylor says, "He's not going to make or break #20, you are. You go out there tonight and you focus on this game, this game alone, and you'll be fine, you understand me?" Smash says, "Yes, sir. You're right," but he still looks unconvinced. Taylor hesitates and says, "We're all good?" Smash nods. "Yeah," he says. Taylor leaves, then there's a great shot of Smash sitting alone at the end of the bench, with a row of Panther helmets on lockers lined up behind him. It reminds me, oddly enough, of Deadwood, another show where virtually any paused image could be a painting. It's art, I tell you!

It's getting toward partytime out there in the flats. Trouble, all nine feet of her, looks spectacular just standing there in a black tank top and jeans. My E-P Mister heartily approves. Billy steps into the trailer that must be serving as party central and turns on the radio just in time to hear Slammin' Sammy's Homecoming warmup. He's got a bottle of something started already; it looks like hard liquor, but let's hope it's beer; they've got a long night ahead of them.

Slammin' Sammy's radio broadcast takes us straight to the game, where the Laribee Lions have taken the field and what looks like the entire town of Dillon, with the exception of Billy and Trouble, has filled the stands. I do love game night, all the color and noise, all those people coming together. Behind a big yellow DILLON PANTHERS banner, Jason sits in his chair, wearing his jersey, with the team standing behind him and the Friday Night Lights teamlove theme playing in the background. Jason presses his lips together. After a long pause, he reaches out and pushes through the banner, splitting it, then rolls forward onto the field. Absolute silence fills the stadium. The announcer says, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome tonight's honorary Dillon captain, #6, Jason Street." Lyla closes her eyes; she has a small blue #6 painted on her cheek. Jason pushes himself forward, his eyes filling with tears. *sniff sniff* The crowd comes to life, cheering, calling his name, holding up "Win for Jason" signs, doing what they do best, while Jason looks out at what could have been and won't ever be again. He waves to the crowd as the team files out from behind the banner. Jason's parents smile from the stands, though Jason's mom looks like she's just putting on a brave face. Tami's wearing a mum corsage as big as her head, and Landry's again sitting with Matt's grandma. Everything's as it should be, except for the part where it all went wrong three games ago and life as they all knew it is over.

Tim motions for the rest of the team to go on. They stream around Jason, then Tim pushes Jason's chair across the field to the sidelines. Jason has his hand to his mouth, obviously overcome, and he's not alone. I had to take a minute, walk away, and then come back because this show mashes my buttons like nothing I've ever seen. *SNIFF* Jason points his hand toward Lyla, and she smiles through her own tears, turning away for a minute, like it's all too much. Tim pushes Jason into the middle of the team, and Jason lifts his arm as the rest of the players surround him, lifting their helmets, and they all yell together, "Clear eyes full hearts can't lose! Clear eyes full hearts can't lose!" IT'S. SO. GOOD.

Commercials. We're coming into my favorite time of the year. I'm all aglow with happy thoughts of the season, all the fun I'm going to have, the excitement on young faces, the joy of it all. Yes, that's right, college basketball is just around the corner! Go Heels!

Slammin' Sammy tells us the Panthers need a win to keep their playoff hopes alive and reminds us that Grady Hunt is in the house to see Smash Williams. Laribee gets the first score. St. Satan and Shady Grady stand together watching on the sidelines; now there's a rock and a hard place for you. Smash is crazy nervous, and he screws up one play after another. On a more positive note, Matt's doing just fine as QB. Yay! In the stands, SmashMama and the SmashSisters look a little worried. Smash plays so poorly in the shut-out first half that Coach T rips him a new one in the locker room at halftime. Taylor calls him into his office, shuts the door and just lays into him. "Read the blocks, hit the gaps," he shouts. He calls Smash on being hyperaware of Shady Grady's presence. "You don't play for UT. You play Dillon Panther high school football, and you play for me. So forget your damn list!" Smash, chastened, says he'll make it up to the coach. Taylor says he'd better, or he's going to make some changes out there. Ruh-roh.

Second half. Smash's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day just keeps getting worse, and after yet another Smash snafu, now the Panthers are down 17-0. ACK! Smash throws down his helmet in frustration, and Taylor says, "That's it. We're going with Riggins." Oh! Yay! Sorry, Smash, I gotta pull for my boy! Matt and Tim get a good rhythm going, and it all starts falling into place. Timmy gets his Alstott on, bulldozing his way to a touchdown. Slammin' Sammy describes him as the "new go-to workhorse" as Tim barrels his way to another touchdown. Go, Tim! Way to show 'em what you can do sober when you put your heart into it! Jason cheers him on from the sidelines. "Taylor may have found his answer in the power running of big Tim Riggins," Slammin' Sammy says. I can't tell you how happy that makes me! Tim gets another monster run (on a great block from Tony Mysterious in a nice bit of role reversal) and scores one more touchdown, making it 21-17, and that's the game, folks! Dillon stays in the playoff hunt and salvages the town's honor with a win! Grady Hunt walks off as Smash drops onto a bench on the Panther sideline with his head in his hands. His mama watches him, not the celebration on the field. Poor Smash! Yay, Timmy! I'm all discombobulated! I want them all to do well. And get along. And for everything to turn out all right. Might as well ask for Jason on his feet, a state championship, and a pony while I'm at it, huh? I'm starting to see the appeal of Lylaworld.

The locker room, after the game. Amid cheers and manly thumping, Coach Taylor awards the game ball to Riggins, saying with a hand on Tim's shoulder, "That was one hell of a game." Tim thanks him, then turns to his teammates. Oh, Lord, y'all, pass the Kleenex: Tim Riggins is stepping up in a big old way. He's kind of a speechmaker, now that I think about it, but always in private; never in front of the team like this, never in front of the coach…and never without a bottle of beer in his hand. He's sweaty, a little bloody, the stink of the game still on him, tossing the game ball like he just realized it doesn't have a PBR label on it. You could light fireworks in my living room and I still wouldn't look away from his face; the kid's got some kind of charisma. It's bittersweet because we know Jason knows about Tim and Lyla, but Tim doesn't know Jason knows, you know? You still with me? Okay, good, because you don't want to miss a single syllable of what Tim has to say.

"I'm not very good at this kind of stuff," Tim says, as the camera shows Jason sitting a little apart, a little outside the circle. "Coach is always talking about (only he says "aboot" -- you can take the boy out of Canada but you can't take the Canada out of the boy) one team, one heart, and to be honest with you, I thought that was stupid," Tim says. "The fact is, he's right. He's right. Everybody in this room knows who…" he stops, looking down, taking a breath, "…where we get our heart from. And he's sitting right there." Tim looks over at Jason, who looks away. It's too much, I think, and remember, he's pretty darn sure Tim fucked Lyla him over. It's painful on so many levels. Tim steps closer to Jason and holds out the game ball, saying, "This ball belongs to you." Jason looks at it, hesitating. "Please, take it," Tim whispers, and Jason finally does. He looks up at Tim as Tim says, "I love you like a brother…like a brother, Six." Tim reaches out and Jason meets him halfway, clasping his hand. Ahhh! Pardon me while I drown in a little pool of sentimentality and drool.

[timgush]Tim's got such a big heart, in his own screwed-up way, and he obviously has room for both Jason and Lyla in it. He's struggling to be better, God bless him. Jason's all clenched jaw and steely gaze, but I don't think even he can stand sit firm against the appeal of a wide-open Tim Riggins for long. Lyla certainly couldn't. Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but they can get through this, right? They've got a pretty solid foundation built between them. I realize I'm exposing my biases for the whole world to see, like my skirt's tucked up in the back of my pantyhose. I know I should be all indignant on Jason's behalf, because what kind of cheating bastard does that to his paralyzed best friend? But…TIM! I'm all about TIM! His big brother's an enabling putz, his girlfriend dumped him, his best friend's paralyzed, his best friend's girlfriend's used him for sex, or a pony, or whatever, and Tim just keeps on keeping on, doing the best he can. It might take him a while, but he comes through in the clutch, giving people whatever they ask of him. I love him.[/timgush]

Jason breaks the hush of the moment, saying, "What are y'all staring at? You played a hell of a game, go party!" The players descend on him and Tim, back to manly thumping and cheers. Taylor watches his boys, looking a little conflicted, as Smash leaves the locker room alone, and Jason cradles the ball from a game he didn't play.

Commercials. If NBC promoted Friday Night Lights like they promote the Law & Order franchise, maybe more people would watch it. I'm just sayin'.

Out in the stadium parking lot, Smash's mama and sisters are waiting for him. SmashMama walks up to him and reminds him it's just one game, but Smash is distraught. He can't believe he blew his shot at impressing Shady Grady. "Everybody knows I'm this family's meal ticket," he says, all choked up. SmashMama pats his face, saying, "Now that's just crazy talk." Smash says he knows it, she knows it, the whole damn world knows it. In the background, Smash's sisters look sad and upset, and I know it's not because Smash played poorly; it's because he's upset. He apologizes and says he needs to be alone. SmashMama calls after him, but he doesn't stop. I love that his family all calls him Brian, not Smash; they know there's more to him than we see on the field.

Oh, for heaven's sake. I forgot all about the party. You've got your obligatory faux-lesbo girl-on-girl dancing, guys doing body shots off a girl draped on the hood of a car, thumping music appropriate for white boy dancing, the whole nine yards. Toil, the "hostess," rightly gives Landry his marching papers when he tries to get in, telling him to come back in four years and she'll give him "one on the house." Landry says, "You think I could get that in writing?" HEE! "You're cute," Toil says. Yes, yes he is, but you keep your mitts off him, you hear? He's bound for better educated things. I wonder if maybe there's a drunken orgy party section and a too-young-for-this party section? I'm going to go with that so I can sleep at night.

Smash knocks on Shady Grady's hotel room door. He's obsequious, which really isn't a good look on him. He's also kind of pushy, which doesn't earn him any points with Grady, who pretty much blows him off, telling him the list will be out in January, and suggesting he work on his strength and conditioning in the meantime.

Back at the party, Trouble's taking gate money from cars, while Billy complains that the whole thing's wearing him down. Trouble suggests he drink a Red Bull and vodka, aka "Liquid Cocaine." Trouble likes all that cold hard cash she's got in her hands. Julie walks up to Matt, asking if it's "the safe zone." Lord, I hope so. She starts to make small talk about the game, but he just comes right out and asks her on a date! Wow, Matty! I'm going to pretend that's just soda you've got in your hand, not a cupful of Dutch courage! While she's considering it, he totally backpedals, and isn't that just like him? No, Matt! Stick to your guns! Run your plays! Have faith in your receivers! Clear eyes full hearts! But it's too late, he's basically withdrawn the offer before getting an answer, so we, like Julie, will have to wait until next time.

Smash pulls up outside a gym called World Class Body Building. Oh, NO. No, no, no, Smash. Brian. Baby. Don't do it.

It's the morning after the night before out on the flats, and are those shotgun cartridges I see in the dirt along with cups, bottles, and a trail of passed-out kids? Hope y'all had fun! Hope y'all didn't kill anybody! Billy wakes up face-down on somebody's windshield and leaves a string of slobber behind when he gets up. UGH. In the trailer, Trouble's counting her take with a gleam in her eye when Billy joins her. "How'd we do?" he asks. She says, "$4,680, which comes out to…" He cuts in with, "A whole lot of damn money for throwing a stupid party." He half-heartedly asks how he's supposed to know she didn't pocket some extra cash letting people in the door, and she says the same way she knows he'll split his bartending tips with her. Billy starts pulling money out of all his pockets, and soon there's a hefty pile in front of Trouble. They laugh about their good fortune while I splutter in useless indignation. Whatever.

We're going into a bye week on a downer, my friends. Smash has acquired something to help him with that strength and conditioning thing Grady Hunt talked about, and it comes in a syringe. Like we needed one more thing we know is going to go wrong! Geez! He injects himself, wincing at more than the sting, I think.

Maybe it's silly to put a TV show on the list of things I'm thankful for this season, but along with a tolerant spouse and a happy kid, it's something that's giving me a lot of joy right now, so…thanks to the cast and crew for making something so great, and thanks to NBC for letting us continue to watch it.

No new episode next week because of the Thanksgiving holiday. See you the following week, when a few things that have been simmering come to a boil, and I'm not talking about gravy.