Friday Night Lights - Episode 112 - What To Do While You're Waiting

What do the producers of Friday Night Lights do while they're waiting? Make a filler episode! That's not quite fair, since a couple of plot points progress minutely, and the whole point of the series seems to be that the journey is as important as the destination, but basically, at the end of the hour? We're still waiting. Along the way, we get our usual fill (pardon the pun) of gorgeous moments, pitch-perfect characterization, smiles and sniffles, but compared to last week's bucking bronco of dirty, dirty, dirty quad porn, parking lot fights, speed metal, and Tim's discovery of the joys of American literature, this episode feels more like a pony ride. Still, I'd take FNL's pony ride over most shows airing this week: *koff*Armed & Famous*koff*

Here come the dulcet tones of the FNL thinking theme song. As Coach Taylor drives along and the camera shows us little video snapshots that make Dillon look pretty as a picture postcard, my good friend Slammin' Sammy lets us know that the result of the big upcoming Buckley-Arnett Mead game will determine whether the Panthers make the playoffs. Arnett Mead's a powerhouse, if you'll recall, but Buckley's got a kickass running back named Denny who could totally upset Arnett Mead's playoff apple cart. If Buckley wins, we're in. If Arnett Mead wins, we're out. It's no fun to sit around waiting for someone else to determine your fate: just ask Matt Saracen. "It all comes down to Friday night, Panther fans," Sammy says. "The hog's out of the gate, the clock is ticking, and It. Is. On."

At the field, the team practices as Coach Taylor admonishes them to keep their focus and keep working hard, saying, "Some things you can control, some things you can't. Time, you can't control. Time is your enemy." He says he doesn't want them driving themselves crazy this week. "What happens, happens," he says, as we see Tim watching Lyla as she practices with the other cheerleaders on the sidelines. Ooh! I wish that would happen again. Maybe that will be one of those things they can't control and they'll just happen to fall down naked somewhere together? What? It could happen! Tim practically sets the turf on fire, the way he watches her. The camera catches a great little hip thrust from her, which Tim does not fail to notice. Coach says, "If the good Lord and/or Buckley defense decides that we should get one more shot at this thing, then by God, we're gonna be ready for it."

I can tell you what the folks of Dillon are doing while they're waiting: talking. Pick a little, talk a little, pick a little talk a little, cheep cheep cheep, talk a lot, pick a little more. In Smash's case, that's nothing new, but even he seems more wound up than usual, his mouth going a million miles an hour. As he sits in a booth at the diner with Waverly and some guys, he's all yippity yip yip yip about The Game, and that running back for Buckley, Denny, as if he's taking all the energy he'd usually put towards a game and sending it to his patter. Goodness knows his patter didn't really need a boost, let alone a verbal Red Bull. It's Steroid Smashmouth! Yikes! Waverly sits across from him looking bored, and eventually she gets up and leaves, telling Smash she's got "a trumpet needs polishing." I bet Smash is thinking he's got a trumpet she could polish...

Even Grandma Saracen's all about The Game, agitatedly pacing the tiny living room in her bathrobe and muttering to the TV about making them spread the defense. Matt says he'll be sure to tell the coach. You know, Grandma's right more often than she's wrong when it comes to football -- if she had both oars in the water, she'd make a hell of an assistant coach. Matt accidentally breaks a glass of milk, and as his dad helps him clean it up, the conversation goes to…yup, you guessed it, The Game. Sergeant Shithead makes an effort, saying he hopes Buckley kicks Arnett Mead's ass, because he'd like to see Matt play quarterback in the playoffs. In the background, as Grandma tosses a football from hand to hand, talking to herself about Denny, the great Buckley running back, Matt's dad tells him he's not going back to Iraq. He's staying in Dillon with Matt and Grandma. Whoa! Matt can hardly believe it. They shake hands, which is just. *flaps hands* So right for these two characters. If Sergeant Shithead keeps this up, I might have to call him something else. Stay tuned.

In their car on the way to school, Eric and Tami are talking about whether Barack Obama should run for president in 2008 or 2012. Oh, no, they're not, they're talking about The Game. Well, Eric's talking about it and Tami's trying to get him to talk about something else…anything else. "There's things going on in the world," she says. "Little children. India." He scoffs and tells her there's nothing else in the world for him to think about. As they get out of the car, they're approached by a guy who serves him with a subpoena from Jason Street's family. Oh, shit. As Eric stands there looking like he just got a cattle prod poked some place it didn't belong, the guy who served him the papers asks if Eric thinks Buckley's got a shot against Arnett Mead. Are you kidding me?!? Eric looks at him like he's completely forgotten about The Game. I think we've found possibly the only thing that might take Eric's mind off Buckley and Arnett Mead.

Credits. If you thought the "Official Lyla Garrity Slam Page" was bad, check out these real-life Mean Girls: five high school cheerleaders in Texas who allegedly cut class, put suggestive photos of themselves in their cheer uniforms on MySpace, and terrorized their coach. These little vixens make the Misses Malicious from "It's Different For Girls" look like the Duff sisters. The mother of one of the cheerleaders was the principal of the school, right up until she resigned, and the coach had to go on Good Morning, America to get somebody to listen to her. Yay for realism on Friday Night Lights! Boo for bitchy teenage girls with nasty senses of entitlement!

After an apparently sleepless night, Tami asks an exhausted-looking but wide awake Eric, "How could they possibly blame you for what happened?" Eric wipes his hand across his face, saying they can't take it personally, it's probably what the lawyers advised them, and that's what people do now. He's covered by the school, and he can't take it personally. He says it often enough that you know darn well if there's one thing he's doing, he's taking it personally, and who could blame him? Besides the Streets, that is.

Speaking of which, after a longing look at his abandoned Wrangler, Jason rolls down the road along what's obviously become a habitual route to a convenience store. The cashier, who seems to be a friend, doesn't have time to talk to him today, despite Jason's attempts at conversation. He brushes Jason off and heads to the back of the store, leaving a perplexed Jason staring after him. After a minute, Jason figures out what's up: a headline in the local paper reads "Injured QB Sues Dillon Coach," alongside pictures of Jason and Coach Taylor. Jason races back home at twice the speed he did on the way to the store, running like he's got demons at his heels. Even the music's faster, with a harder beat, to underscore the fact that this is one pissed-off quadriplegic. He's wearing some kind of racer shades and he's all sweaty and I get a little shiver looking at him because he's still so incredibly alive and vital. It makes me sad all over again that he's had this awful thing happen to him.

Matt and his dad sit at their kitchen table, trying to make sense out of Grandma's backlogged medical paperwork. Good luck with that. I think you need a degree in Asinine Bureaucracy to make heads or tails of our current healthcare system, and Grandma's trifecta of poverty, old age and senility just make it that much worse. Matt asks how the job hunt's going. Um, that would be "not well," according to his dad. Not a lot of opportunities out there if you're looking to do more than swirl Swizzlers.

Ooh! A new set! Trouble's house! And a new parent -- Mama Trouble -- to add to my Missing Parents Chart:

Missing Parents Chart

Unfortunately, the house also comes with a resident know-it-all dickhead. Trouble calls him "Bob," but we're just gonna go with "Dick." Dick's a blowhard, talking about the lawsuit like he has something of value to contribute and holding up his empty coffee mug for Trouble's mama to refill. Hey, Dick, we've got a superior young man around here who'd give his eyeteeth to stand up and pour himself some coffee, so why don't you haul your sorry ass to the coffeemaker and get it your damn self? I can forgive the laziness, but I won't forgive the look he bestows on Trouble's ass as she walks by him. *shudder* He and Trouble exchange mild barbs, after which he calls her, "Tyra the Mouth." I bet he read that on a bathroom wall. Hell, I bet he wrote that on a bathroom wall. Trouble's mom is a vague impression of bleached hair and tight jeans, and when Dick points out Trouble's jeans, she just sighs. The camera operator, who I'm going to guess is a man, lingers lovingly on a shot of Trouble's shapely behind as Dick says, "Man, you ladies have a genetically superior ass that runs in this family." It's true, if grammatically imperfect; she's one hot tamale in those jeans, but UGH. What a creep. Trouble, all long legs and great ass, goes over and hugs her mama, then leaves as Dick watches her and I go chew a piece of Big Red to get the taste of him out of my mouth.

There's more disharmony where that came from: Jason is ripping his parents a new one about the lawsuit, saying that now he's not just the crippled kid; everybody's going to hate him. When his mother tells him they had no choice, he says, "You don't go against the Panthers in this town, and you know that." How strange it must be for him to say that; for him not to be a Panther. As he rolls off furiously, his mother says they knew this would happen, and Jason shouts, "And I said it was bad idea!" Jason's dad slams out of the house as his mom goes to Jason in his room and sits down with him. She gets choked up as she says that to get him what he needs to survive, they need money. Jason drops his head, his anger melting away. She says she's come to terms with the fact that some people won't understand that. Jason rolls over to her as she apologizes. Then she says, "Coach should have put you through tackling drills, right?" He puts his hand on her arm and says, softly and reluctantly, "Maybe he should have." I don't think he really believes it, but it's his way of telling her he understands. He moves toward her, closing his eyes, and she kisses the top of his head, cradling him.

On the practice field, Coach Taylor plays Exposition Fairy talks up the Annual Women's Booster League Fundraiser Rodeo and Fair. That's quite a mouthful! It reminds me of an event I attended as a student abroad in Cardiff, Wales in December 1984 -- the Barry Young Wives Social Club Disco Christmas Hop. What they lacked in bucking broncos they made up for with a tasty buffet and quite a lot of disco. I have fond memories of the Barry Young Wives doing a line dance to Michael Jackson's "Thriller," though it's possible that the impressively spirited eggnog colored my view. At groans from the players, Coach says, "Shut up. These women work hard. It's a good cause. So we're all going to show our asses up there with smiles on our faces." I guess that's better than showing their faces up there with smiles on their asses. (Aside to gtyper: Tim spits water! Guess the ad lib made it in the final cut!) The rodeo's counter-programming to The Game on Friday night, something to keep the town occupied while they're waiting.

Matt takes the new set of brass ones he grew out there in the stadium parking lot after last week's game and goes to ask Buddy Garrity for a job for his dad. Well, actually, he just asks if Buddy has any suggestions, but Buddy tells him he could use a new salesman and to have his dad come in. I'm alarmed at the quantity of antlers in Buddy's office. That's a helluva lot of dead deer. At one point, it looks like Buddy's got horns literally growing out of his head, confirming my suspicion that there's a devil in his woodpile. "Come back and see me," Buddy says as Matt leaves, calling after him, "Hey, you like to hunt?" Hee. And ACK! Leave Bambi alone, you big…hunter, you!

You know I love this show, right? I love this show like I love Tarheel basketball, like I love Jared and Jensen, like I love polar fleece, but sometimes? Now and then? I hate how this show makes me feel. How much it makes me feel. This is one of those times. Eric goes to the pharmacy where Jason's dad, Mitch, works. I feel for both men as Eric tries to tell Mitch that he knows they're not really behind the suit, and Mitch tries to explain to Eric why they had to sue. Their voices get more and more hushed as they both struggle to make the other understand their position, but it's futile. "The expenses are astronomical," Mitch says, his mouth tight. Eric says the lawsuit's going to cause additional pain and it's not going to get them anywhere. "I'm not so sure that's the case," Mitch says. Eric asks how Mitch thinks he's going to prove that the school was negligent when he was there, Eric was there, everyone saw that it was a horrible accident. Mitch talks over him, saying, "I can't talk to you about this. I can't talk to you about this." Eric looks a little taken aback as Mitch says, "You think this is tough for you?" Yeah, yeah, I think it is tough for the coach. It's his life, his livelihood, and he loves Jason, but I see Jason's dad's point of view, too. "You ought to try losing your child's legs, your child's future, and every penny you've ever saved. Try that on for size," Mitch bites out. He describes all the things they have to pay for now, getting madder and madder, saying it's killing him to do this, but "since I'm already dead, it doesn't matter anyway, now does it." Eric's got no answer for him. He just looks at him until Mitch finally says, "Just get the hell out of here, Coach. Get out of here." Eric turns and leaves. *whimper* I found that scene physically painful; my chest hurts.

Commercials. Poor Tony Romo. It's one thing when a fictional second-string high school QB like Matt Saracen whiffs a play, but when a starting NFL quarterback who's paid millions of dollars for the precision of his hands fumbles a snap and costs his team a spot in the playoffs? Man, that sucks.

Matt accompanies his dad to the dealership, introducing him to Buddy. As Buddy takes Matt's dad back to his office to get him started, Matt gives this wonderful, relieved, almost giddy, completely adorable grin. Something's gone right in his world. Enjoy the moment, Matty! It probably won't last!

Smash approaches Waverly outside the school, saying, "How's your tuba looking?" She grins and sasses, "Bright and shiny like your forehead." Hee! "And it's a trumpet," she adds. The show gives us some nice subtle clues that Smash is still juicing -- he's got acne, and as he walks to meet Waverly, he wipes his forehead like he's sweating. He rags on her for walking out on him at the diner, and she protests that he wasn't talking to her anyway. Smash doesn't like that, so he starts to lay out "the rules" for her, starting with, "Don't nobody walk out on the Smash." Wow, third person with an article, that's a double whammy! Waverly's not impressed. She says, "You know, as fascinating as it is to sit there and listen to everyone talk about how great you are, 'the Waverly' has better things to do." HA HA HA! He takes her hand and stops her, saying he knows she likes him. She says that's true, she does, but she doesn't think they have anything in common. Smash says whatever she wants to have in common with him, he'll get it in common. Um, does it really work like that? I guess it does for 'the Smash.' She asks if there's anything about him that's not football 24/7, and crickets chirp for long seconds. She says, "Anything else you talk about? Do you have any other friends?" …*chirp* … *chirp* … Then a light bulb goes on (behind his big and shiny forehead) and he says, "Matt Saracen and Julie Taylor." Really? Matt, I can see; they do seem to have formed a bond, and maybe now Julie comes along as part of the package? Like a two-for-one deal on Orange Crush and Moonpies? Smash says they "chill all the time, talk about a whole mess of stuff besides football," including immigration, Iraq, books, music, stem cell research, and global warming. Well! Waverly and I are both surprised and pleased. Smash says he's going to the rodeo with Matt and Julie on Friday and invites Waverly to come along. "All right," she says. "We'll give the Waverlash one last shot." You are too sassy for your own good, missy. I like you! Smash has to get in the last word, as always, hollering after her, "Smashmouth is contagious!" It's true; the disease is called 'oral diarrhea' and Smash has a wicked case of it.

Matt Saracen can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and never ever let you forget you're a…wait, that doesn't quite work. What I mean to say is, Matt really can do six things at once. He's making tea for his grandma, who promised she won't go near the stove again, he's cleaning up a mess, and now he's got Julie banging away at his front door, looking like her daddy when he's about to pop a vessel at one of his players. Matt says, "Oh, shoot," though it sounds to me like a looped line, since what he really means is, "Oh, shit," but you can only say that on HBO and FX. He lets Julie in, apologizing profusely when she says she waited for him at the library for an hour. Matt says Grandma called him because she thought there was a big mouse in the house, so Matt came home, then got distracted by the mess, then realized dinner needed to be made, and then Grandma wanted her tea, and I'm writing all that out for you because do you SEE what this high school sophomore is trying to handle? All by himself? Julie watches him wide-eyed, then says, "Okay. How about you make dinner and I'll make your Grandma some tea." Awwww! As she pulls the kettle off the stove, he tells her about the double date Smash foisted on them, complete with telling Waverly they do that a lot, and talk about stuff besides football. Julie looks scarily like her dad again as she raises her eyebrows in response. Yeah, what she said. That little plan couldn't possibly go wrong. *snort*

There's trouble at Trouble's house. Dick and Trouble's mama are having a screaming fight over the kind of stupid thing stupid people have stupid screaming fights about. Trouble looks irritated but not surprised, so it doesn't seem to be anything she hasn't heard before. Then the fight escalates from verbal to physical when Dick hits Trouble's mama in the face, and that's it for Trouble, who launches all of her five feet eleven inches across the room, grabbing a fireplace poker on the way, and hurls herself into the fray, a fierce and beautiful warrior facing down the biggest jerk we've seen yet on this show (and that's saying something!). She chases him across the counter and into the next room, screaming at him to get out while her mother loses it behind her. Trouble and Dick just about come to blows and he ends up with the poker somehow, raising it above his head and threatening her with it, but Trouble's still riding the powerful wave of vengeful wrath, and she faces him down, her face contorted with hatred, saying, "Do it. Do it," through clenched teeth. She's exactly eye-to-eye with him. After a tense minute, Dick drops the poker and leaves, and only then does Trouble let some fear show on her face. Damn, girl. Remind me to get on stay on your good side.

It's a much different scene at the Taylors' house. Eric and Tami are sitting in their living room in companionable silence with their respective drugs of choice -- wine for Tami, a game tape for Eric -- when Julie walks in. "I love you guys," she says. "And you guys are the best parents in the world." Tami and Eric stare at her as she says good night and goes to her room. Her parents look at each other. Eric smiles a little smugly satisfied smile, but Tami knows better. "No, honey, something terrible must have happened," she says. HEEEEE! She quickly gets up and follows Julie. After a second, Eric closes his playbook and gets up, too, and we cut immediately to a family pow-wow in the kitchen, where Julie tells them about everything Matt has taken on. Tami and Eric exchange looks. Wow, the "Matt Chat" from a couple episodes really didn't work, did it? Julie is well and truly invested in that boy! Yay! She says, "I feel like it's just going to crush him." Eric says, "Nothing's going to crush Matt Saracen. He's like a little stink bug, you can't crush him." Hee. Tami wrinkles her nose at that. She says she thinks it's a lot for a sixteen-year-old to handle. Eric doesn't have much to offer, but Tami tells Julie to have Matt come see her; maybe she can help. That's all Julie needed to hear. She kisses her mom on the cheek and says, "You're the best." As she leaves, Eric calls after her, "What do you mean, she's the best? What about me?" Oh, you Taylors. I just want to sprinkle jimmies on you and eat you up with a spoon!

Trouble's mama isn't taking Dick's abrupt departure very well; she's curled up in bed with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of Fluvoxamine. When Trouble comes and leans in her doorway, Mama says pitifully, "I don't think he's coming back." *smacks forehead* You know, honey, if the answer to the question, "What's he done for me lately?" is "Jack shit, and he's mean to boot," it's time to find a new boyfriend. God knows I know parents aren't perfect, but bringing a man like that into a house with a teenage girl? That's just stupid. Trouble comes to sit on the bed, saying, "He's just a stupid guy. It's not like Jesus Christ left you." Hee. Mama says she's just not used to being alone, and I bet Trouble's having a Connor Prick flashback. There's no question that either nature or nurture drives Trouble to the bad-boy side of the fence, too. There's no indication Tim ever physically hurt her, but they absolutely tore each other up verbally and emotionally, on some kind of up-and-down relationship merry-go-round. "You're not alone; you've got me," Trouble says, but it seems to be cold comfort to her mama. *sniff*

Commercials. Interestingly, this is the episode that finally drove my sports-phobic Yankee friend to call me, mid-airing, to tell me she knew all these people in high school -- metaphorically, not literally. If we can win her over, we can bring in anyone; she even hates the Olympics. She started watching because I nagged her incessantly for weeks for Taylor Kitsch, but now she's just generally hooked. I WIN! \o/

Maybe it's because he made such a bad first impression, I don't know, but honestly? I could care less if Henry Saracen has a flair for car sales. Which he doesn't. In the office at the dealership, Buddy encourages Henry to wear an American flag pin on his lapel, to "remind people that you served this country for twenty years." Aww, don't cheapen the only decent thing we've seen about the man, Buddy. Not to sell used cars. Yuck. Henry looks down and sniffs like he smells something bad, a hounded expression on his face, but he puts the damn thing on.

At Jason's house, Lyla makes a sandwich and brings it to Jason in his room, asking why there are sheets on the couch. Turns out Jason's mom and dad aren't getting along too well (damn, it's right on schedule according to Herc's post-trauma timeline). Lyla asks if Jason thinks the lawsuit is a good idea, asking "as someone who loves you and is on your side." Jason tells her the charity people extended won't last forever, and everything he needs costs so much. He says it's killing him to do this to Coach and the team, but maybe the lawyers are right, and if someone had taught him how to tackle, he wouldn't be in that chair. Lyla says, "If you think this if for the best, then I'm with you." Jason smiles at her, a sweet, open smile, and asks, "What is it with you that you want to screw your life up for me?" She smiles back and says, "Love makes us kind of stupid." I can't argue with that; there's way too much supporting evidence.

Hound-dog Henry comes home as Matt's doing his homework. When Matt asks about his day, he says it was fine, but we all know better. Matt and Grandma exchange an uncomfortable look. From there, we cut immediately to Matt sitting on the stoop with his head down on his crossed arms. He looks like he could use a hug, so it's a good thing Miss Julie Taylor picks that minute to come up offering a willing shoulder and frozen casseroles. Matt? Marry that girl. Someday. When you're older. Like, out of college and gainfully employed. She asks what he's doing out there and he says he's wishing Arnett Mead would lose to Buckley so Dillon can go to the playoffs and he won't always have to wonder, "What if?" as he punches in at the feed store. That's quite the imagination you've got there, Matty. Julie teases him gently, then gives him the casseroles her mom made and sits down beside him on the steps. "Am I really that pathetic?" he asks. She says he just does so much, she thought they could help out, which is so sweet, and so Southern, and so perfect it gets me all teary. After a moment of companionable silence, he says he's not sure why he thought things would be different with his dad being at home. Julie wonders if he needs some time to settle in, but Matt tells her he's just getting more and more uncomfortable. "I guess I wanted him to want to be here and not just to…be here," he says. That's so sad. And so well said. The scene's lit really nicely, all golds and grays; it's just a concrete stoop on a house with peeling paint, but somehow, it's beautiful. Matt says his dad's been in the Army for twenty years, so getting up every day and trying to be a dad and selling used cars for Buddy Garrity just really isn't his thing. It seems to me that in addition to being a dad, Hound-dog Henry's also a son, and at least half of his discomfort has to come from dealing with Grandma, who can't be ordered around and acts in unpredictable ways, neither of which would suit a career Army man. Matt says he can't take it personally, and shakes his head when Julie says, "You can get angry," because he knows his dad's trying. "What else can you really ask of anyone?" he asks. Matt, honey, you are wise beyond your years and you're absolutely the best catch in Dillon. Julie knows it, too -- she nudges his shoulder and kisses him, then cuddles up closer as he puts his head back down on his crossed arms. *sniff*

Commercials. The University of Florida spanked Ohio State 42-14 to win the BCS title on Monday night, and I'm sure millions of people who'd bet on Troy Smith and The Sure Thing are now considerably poorer. Did you see the guy who lost his helmet and still made the tackle? Obviously, Tim Riggins has a soulmate.

So! It's the rodeo-eo-eo! As Jake Owen's "Yee Haw" kicks up its heels in the background, we see bucking broncs, midway rides, and a whole heck of a lot of cowboy hats. Welcome to the Annual Women's Booster League Rodeo & Fair! In a dusty corner by a corral, a group of jean-jacketed men sit in folding chairs watching The Game on TV. Eric and Tami sit in their SUV, watching the fair as Eric has a mini panic attack over all the crap going on in his life, saying it's giving him gray hairs, while Tami calmly talks him out of his tree, and eventually, out of his car. Even Tami has a cowboy hat, and Lord, she can work it.

In the midway, Waverly and Julie talk about Cocteau's "Beauty and The Beast", which Julie says she and Matt…and Smash… just saw at an art cinema forty miles away. I'm a little surprised Julie's going along with this whole let's-lie-to-Waverly plan, but maybe it's one of those 'love makes you stupid' things. "Man, what the hell is Julie getting my ass into," Smash says to Matt as they watch their smart, sweet, pretty girls. Matt says, "Italian cinema." Heee. Matt asks if Smash has heard anything about The Game, and Smash tells him Denny blew a knee. Oh, no! Shades of Boobie Miles from the original Friday Night Lights. Smash and Matt girltalk about Waverly, and how she doesn't pay him any attention. Matt says maybe that's her way of getting him to pay attention to her. And then they braid each other's hair and have a pillow fight. In their panties.

The next bit has some quick cuts, so bear with me.

Oh, this is good. As Buddy watches the game with the guys, his wife comes over, says his name, and then just looks at him, and he leaps to his feet, apologizing. She literally crooks her finger at him and he comes running. Heee! Buddy's women sure are his soft spot, aren't they? What do you want to bet Mrs. Garrity's the head of the Women's Booster League?

On the midway, Trouble's won a Tazmanian Devilish thing that's about as big as she is, and as she cradles it and walks with her mom, they talk about how the mom used to live in Dallas but then fell in love with Trouble's dad and…and here comes Dick, asking for another chance, saying, "No drama." Uh-huh. Trouble's eyes roll so far back in her head I think she can see her brain. She walks away, upset, and who sees her? Tim. Aha! Maybe it's not the filler that's the problem with this episode, maybe it's the lack of Tim! Hi, Timbaby! Where've you been?

Jason rolls out of his van with Lyla at his side. A few people stare at him, but when Lyla asks, "Are you ready for this?" he says yes and they head into the fray.

Trouble's mama comes to join her and Taz on the curb by the cotton candy vendor. "People have fights," Mama says. Trouble agrees, but says 'people' don't have fights every day, or let men beat the hell out of them. I finally figured out where I know the mama from -- she played Detective White on the "Syzygy" episode of The X-Files. The one who had the killer UST with Mulder and made Scully all jealous? It's excellent casting -- she could totally be Adrianne Palicki's mom. Trouble tells her mom she loves her more than anything in the world, and she's a damn good mother, but "God, you're such a loser when it comes to men." She lays down the law, saying if her mom lets Dick move back in, she's moving out. "It's him or me. You choose," Trouble says. Her mom just looks at her, which is…troubling.

Two big brawny guys are arm-wrestling as Smash tells anyone who'll listen that he can take those guys. Waverly totally calls him on his bullshit about the concerts, the art films, the crap he said he went to with Matt and Julie. He's only listening with half an ear, the rest of him still focused on the arm-wrestling. That is one competitive boy right there. When she protests the lies, he says, "You can't even see what's right in front of you. I'm Smash." When the arm wrestler (none other than our own gtyper) beats yet another opponent, Smash jumps in and says he'll take him on. The crowd cheers him on as Waverly shakes her head and walks away.

Just outside the fair, Trouble stuffs Taz into a garbage barrel. Oh, man, that's sad. Tim comes up to her. "You okay" he asks softly. "Not really," she says. Man, they look fantastic in the carny light, especially Tim, who's wearing what Malkin calls his Brokeback Mountain jacket. He looks at Trouble and gently asks what's wrong. Lord have mercy, he's got a great voice. I've got a thing for low and husky, which is Tim all over. I don't know how she doesn't just jump him and take him right there in full view of the ferris wheel and a bunch of buckin' broncs. She tells him her mom's going to be an idiot and let that jerk back in the house. "You know, that's a trait in women in my family that just drives men crazy," she says. "They treat us like crap and always come back for more." He says that's actually what he's there to talk to her about. He takes a breath, then says he's truly sorry about everything that happened, what he put her through, the thing with Lyla (though he still almost whispers Lyla's name, and it's still sexy as hell). He says he was a complete jerk and if there's any way she'd give him a second chance, "believe me, it'd be so different." As sincere as Tim seems to be, didn't we just hear that same tune from Dick? Tim has the potential to be a Dick-in-training; I'm sure the show wants us to see the parallels. But we've seen the deliberate effort he's making to not be That Guy. Keep your fingers crossed; I think he's salvageable. And fuckable, but that's not news. What is news is that Trouble's making her own effort to get off that sucky merry-go-round, and she turns Tim down, saying she'd be a hypocrite if she gave him another chance. She gets a little choked up while she does it, but she doesn't let his lip-licking, eye-smoldering, husky-voiced charm sway her, which I believe may put her in a minority of one.

Smash defeats our friend gtyper, but it's a pyrrhic victory without Waverly there to stroke his ego.

Pass the Kleenex. Wait, before you pass the Kleenex, I need to wallow for a minute in the gorgeousness that is Kyle Chandler. The camera's sort of looking up at him as he stands in front of the ferris wheel in a light-colored coat with the collar up, his arms crossed, and he's got a Gregory-Peck-Cary-Grant-movie-star-thing going on that's just. WOW. Yum. Okay, now pass the Kleenex, because Coach T catches Jason's eye as he rolls into view and they just stare at each other for a long minute. What can they say? They each nod briefly, then both turn away, and oooooh, it makes me cry because Jason needs Coach Taylor, and Coach Taylor loves Jason, and ooooh, Peter Berg, why you gotta do this to me? I don't want to feel this awful! Rats! We get an extreme close-up of Coach Taylor's face, and I'll be damned. He really is getting gray hairs!

The DJ up in the booth sees something amazing on his TV and turns the microphone around so we hear the announcer as he calls out the play-by-play. It's a miracle! Buckley gets a late unexpected touchdown, and just like that, the Panthers are going to the playoffs! Whee! It's bittersweet, coming as it does when there's still so much discord among the ranks -- Smash and Waverly, Matt and Hound-dog Henry, Trouble and her mom, Coach T and Jason -- but for a moment, there's jubilation and unity among the Panther faithful. Matt tackles Julie to the ground in his exuberance, and Tami and her smokin' hot cowboy hat kiss Eric and give him a big hug. He smiles for her, but it's fleeting. Jason and Lyla leave, unnoticed by the celebrating crowd.

Back from commercials, we're treated to the saint part of St. Satan, as Buddy Garrity sings (very nicely, I might add), "Coming for to carry me home." Then he prays aloud in the empty church, thanking God for Buckley's victory, saying he knows it was a miracle for such "a crap team" to win. Nice church talk there, Buddy! He asks for one more thing…the win at State. You're a piece of work, Buddy Garrity.

As Coach Taylor walks out toward the stadium the next day (in that same yummy coat), he sees Jason sitting in his wheelchair on the track that circles the field. Jason's shot from behind a chain-link fence, as if to emphasize the new prison of his lost mobility. The coach walks over to Jason and looks down at him. I don't think he has any idea what to say. After his aborted attempt at talking to Jason's dad, I don't think he would have tried one more time, so I give Jason tremendous credit for making the first move. After a minute, Jason says, "I just came out here to let you know that no matter what anyone says, no matter what happens with this whole lawsuit thing, just know that it was not on my hands, and I was against it… and that you'll always be my coach." *sniff* Jason puts out his hand, and Coach Taylor takes it, then puts his hand on Jason's shoulder. *SNIFF* Thanks. I needed that. I know there's still shit coming down the pike, but if Coach and Jason can be okay with each other, then I can be okay with the rest of it.

Hound-dog Henry looks lonely out there in the wilderness of the used car lot. Matt comes up to him and proves that he's as much a man as his twenty-year-military-vet dad is: he lets him go. He sends his dad back to Iraq and promises to hold down things on the home front. Hound-dog Henry grew on me, he really did, he tried really hard, but he seems to see that it's for the best. "I'm not really much of a car salesman, am I?" he says. "Yeah, but you're a really good soldier," Matt says. Henry says, "Sometimes that doesn't mean much," and Matt says, "Yeah, well, sometimes it does." Aww!

Trouble's packing her stuff in her room when her mom comes in and asks where she's going. Trouble says, "I told you it was him or me. I wasn't kidding." Her mom says, "Tyra, did you really think I would choose a man over my daughter?" Yes, Mama, she really did. Trouble looks surprised and a little sad and happy all at once, and goes over to hug her mom. She can't see the look that comes on her mom's face as she wonders whether she made the right decision. Oh, this show!

Waverly's in the band room at school polishing her trumpet (it sounds filthier each time I say it!) when Smash comes in. He apologizes for getting Matt and Julie to lie for him, saying they feel bad, she's pissed, and it's all his fault. He says, "Yeah, I like myself. And I love football." He loves the game, the crowds, the attention, being a star, all of it. "It's a beautiful thing. It's just who I am. It's how God made me," he says. He says he likes Waverly a lot, more than he's ever liked any other girl, but if she doesn't like him for him, he's got to live with it. "I can't be nobody but the Smash." Yes, he says, he likes talking about himself in the third person, and he thinks deep down, she likes it, too. Hmmm. I think it's fine to love yourself, but to require others to love you 'as is', without even attempting to bend a little? That's pretty dickish and ridiculously self-centered. I hope it's just the steroids amping up his typical behavior, because this Smash? I don't love, and I'm not sure Waverly does, either. She smiles a little and says, "See you around, Smash," leaving the door open just a little bit, though remember, she's still hiding something, and we don't know who what it is.

Slammin' Sammy takes us home, saying, "Sometimes the problem is that what's going to happen just isn't up to you. Then fate takes a turn around the back yard and suddenly it is all up to you. Brace yourself, Dillon. We're going into a hell of a game." Okay, Sammy! I'm looking forward to it.

Well. Look at that. I sure did have a lot to say, considering it's a filler ep. Guess that Smashmouth is contagious after all!