Friday Night Lights: Are You Ready For Friday Night? (Episode 203)

You know how I can tell NBC is trying to promote Friday Night Lights to a wider audience than high school kids and men who watch football? Both Lyla and Tim were half-naked this episode, providing equal opportunity (and exceptionally high quality) skin time, and advertisers included Maybelline and Fisher-Price. Oh, and of course they're still airing that Chevy truck series as a reward for the big brawny he-men who twiddled their thumbs through the mascara commercial.

"I DON'T WANT GLENN AT THE HOUSE WITH HIS HAND IN MY WIFE'S ICEBOX" -- Even the refrigerator misses Eric. Either that or it's gone on strike in protest of a hostile work environment. Eric's not real happy about Glenn rummaging around in his tools, but somebody's got to fix the ice-maker, and that's a long reach from Austin. And before you ask, no, I don't see any romantic sparks popping between Glenn and Tami. At all. I think Glenn's a smart man, he's a science teacher after all; he knows good and well he's the only neutralizing element in that potentially explosive situation and he's acting accordingly. To which I say, good for you, Glenn. Make yourself a nice frozen margarita once you've fixed the fridge.

Things continue to slide downhill on all the Taylor fronts. The players don't listen to Eric, and the TMU head coach makes him cut a Saracen-like player from the team. He seems to be making more of an effort to split his time between Dillon and Austin, but he misses the big blowout: The irresistible force of Tami's post-partum depression crashes into the immovable object of Julie's rebellious discontent when Tami catches Julie and the Sweaty swapping spit in the white panel bordello on wheels at two o'clock in the morning. Imagine her wrath if she knew the Sweaty's friends offered Julie a joint (which Julie turned down -- there, I give her one bonus point for the season). As Tami shrieks at Julie to get out of the van and go into the house, Julie pleads with the Sweaty to take her…somewhere. "I can't take you anywhere, that's kidnapping," the Sweaty protests. Yeah, emphasis on the kid, you midnight-toking, punkass cradle robber. Once Tami's hauled Julie out bodily, the Sweaty hilariously peels rubber getting away from the crazy Taylor girls, who have it out right there on the front lawn. It goes down like this:

Tami: "I am your mother. You have not grown up yet and you're not rid of me yet, you hear?"
Julie: "Go to hell!"
Tami: *slapsJulieintonextWednesday*

Julie says, as she stalks off holding her cheek, that Tami got rid of her when she had the baby and let Eric leave. Oh, man. I'd have more sympathy for Julie if she hadn't been such a raving bitch, not just to her parents, but also to Matt and even long-suffering Lois, the friend she keeps ditching at gas stations and bars. My Ever-Patient Mister says Tami's made a series of bad decisions, starting with putting her foot down about not going to Austin, and this is the sad result, but I'm a lot softer on Tami than he is -- it's probably a Mars/Venus thing. Tami, honey, I feel you. I didn't even know I had a temper until I had a kid, though, as my Mister pointed out, no one's ever provoked me to the degree my kid does. So I get the impulse, even without all the additional stressors working Tami's last nerve down to a quivering nub. Others may see it differently, but I'm giving Tami a pass on this one. When Tami curls up in a weepy ball in Eric's lap as she tells him about the slap later, you can see on Eric's face that he knows something's got to change. Good thing Buddy's working on a plan, huh, Eric?

"IF THINGS AREN'T GOOD TODAY, THEY'LL BE BETTER TOMORROW" -- The fact that things in Dillon have completely fallen apart since Eric left is never more clear than at the first game of the season. The team's disintegrating both on the field and off, and Smash's late run to win the game doesn't begin to cure their ills; in fact, the way they won just brings how bad things are out into the open. It's hard to say who's more ticked off: Coach McGetyourownteam, over how badly the Panthers are executing their offense, with the exception of Smash, who seems to think he could play all eleven positions on both sides of the line; Matt, over how his contributions continue to be almost entirely overlooked; or Jason, who gets called "the team mascot" to his face one too many times and quits his coaching position. The tension between Matt and Smash has been simmering under the surface since the pre-season, and QBFuckin'1 has had it up to here with that crap. After Smash plays both QB and RB and snakes in the winning touchdown without Saracen ever touching the ball (or even hearing the play call, which goes directly from the coach to Smash), Matt tackles Smash after the game and they pummel each other until the coaches intervene. Poor Matt. Since Coach T left, he's lost his girlfriend, his captain status, his right to call plays, and his pr0n stash. But! There's a silver lining, and it comes in the magic fingers of Carlotta, who massages Matt's sore shoulder after the game and sings a sweet little song to him about how things are going to get better.

Eric Taylor came back to watch the game, so he got to see his best boys behave like hooligans. You know why he came? Because Carlotta's not the only one singing sweet nothings in somebody's ear: Buddy's got a plan. Buddy's taking all the energy he used to expend on the Panthers and his family, and he's aiming it at getting rid of the new coach -- "I think he's evil" -- and bringing back the old coach. Hell hath no fury like a Buddy Garrity scorned. Don't get me wrong, I think Buddy genuinely misses Eric (and all the malarkey Eric lets him get away with), and I know for certain that Buddy would like to apply the toe of his best shitkicker to the backside of Coach McGetyourownteam as he hightails it out of town, so let's call wheedling Eric back to Dillon High where he belongs a win-win for Dillon, the Taylors, and, coincidentally enough, our own St. Satan. I also think he's not above using Tami, Julie, and Baby Bug as bait on the end of that line he's using to reel Eric in. For once, I'm one hundred percent in agreement: do whatever you have to, Buddy; you've got my full support. TMU SUX and the town the team Tami needs him. Eric seems to hear our plea; the episode ends with him knocking on the window at the Chevy dealership, then shaking hands when Buddy asks, "Are we gonna rock and roll?"

"YOU COULD DATE PRETTY MUCH ANYBODY YOU WANT TO…WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY KID LANDRY?" -- Remember last season when Tim went ass over teakettle out Miffie's window to keep Bo from catching him in flagrante delicto? Well, it's Trouble's turn this time. The morning after "the best night" of Landry's life, Trouble seems a bit embarrassed to find herself bare-assed in Landry's bed. She origamis all seventy-two inches of her long, lean self out through Landry's bedroom window, a sight which does not go unnoticed by the highly trained eye of Landry's dad, who's up early taking out the trash. So they really did the deed, huh? Are they together now? Like, for real? And am I supposed to care more about that than their other crime of passion? Landry's dad uses his keenly observant cop's eye to note the absence of Landry's watch. He reminds Landry that the watch has been in the family for more than sixty years, and that his grandfather will expect to see it on his wrist during his upcoming visit. Whoops! Landry and Trouble visit a pawn shop to try to find a watch close enough to pass, though if Gramps is anything like Officer Clarke, he's got an eagle eye and will be able to spot a Fauxlex at a hundred paces. Landry decides the public pawn shop is the perfect place to tell Trouble that he'll do his best to keep her out of it if the body shows up, presumably wearing his watch. He couldn't have said that to her in the hushed privacy of his own room? The hell?

Landry's dad pays Trouble a visit at the Applebee's, feeling out her interest in his son. Since she can't just say, "Nobody has ever killed for me before!" I think in telling him all the reasons she's spending time with Landry -- he's smart, kind, funny, and nice to be around -- Trouble has a little epiphany. Way to get with the program, Trouble! We've been touting Landry's marketable assets for months. Although little did we know the lead pipe he'd be wielding for her would be literal! Trouble folds her way back into Landry's room later, and since telling isn't really her forte, she shows him, again, with her body, what it means to her for someone to be nice to her. I don't think I'm supposed to be creeped out by that. I think I'm supposed to go, "Aww!" I like them together. I do. I just hate that Trouble's still using sex as a means of communicating everything from "thank you for killing that man" to "you mean something to me."

"I GUESS I FEEL CLOSER TO GOD WHEN I'M WITH YOU" -- Tim Riggins is having a very bad week. It starts with finding out that Billy and Miffie have been doing the horizontal two-step -- he catches Billy sneaking out of Miffie's house at six in the morning (though I think Billy used the door instead of the window). Then Coach McGetyourownteam, who has an inexplicably vicious hard-on for Tim, literally drives him into the ground at practice, to the point that Tim passes out, goes into shock, and has to be taken to the hospital by ambulance. Billy's MIA, so after getting rehydrated, Tim has to wait for an adult to sign him out. Lyla shows up, saying, "I'm here as a friend." She wants him to come to her church, saying that he's lost and she thinks it would be good for him. Tim just looks bemused and a little horny -- pretty much how he always looks around Lyla. You know, I'd happily watch the two of them for the entire hour. All they'd have to do is talk and look at each other…preferably without their clothes on. Buddy ends up springing Tim, and when Tim tries to explain that his hangover contributed to the face-plant he took, Buddy brushes him off, saying he's seen Tim hungover lots of times and he always played like a champ. No, Buddy says it's the coach's fault - practices are running long in the heat. He lays it all on the coach. Hmm, somehow I don't think he's just trying to reassure Tim, do you?

Back at home, Tim and Billy have it out when Tim learns that Miffie's been hauling Billy's ashes for weeks. It's not the first time Billy taking "second helpings" off Tim's girls has been a boner of contention with the Riggins brothers -- remember the Cheetos fight from "Crossing The Line"? It's a pretty brutal blow for Tim, a double betrayal that I fear will take more than the liberal application of frozen peas and grilled cheese to fix. It's sad, because I actually like the idea of Billy and Miffie together, and I think Tim might have come around if it had been handled differently. As it is, it's just one more cow patty in Tim's field of shit, and it drives him, as nothing else to date has, to seek solace in something besides a bottle of Lone Star and the inside of a Rally Girl's thighs. Yup, that's right, Tim heads off to Lyla's church. I've been there. Well, not that particular church, but a member of the same fundamental family. I jotted down a Ranecdote about it, if you're interested. I'd like to think Lyla's more about showing Tim a different road to travel than just bringing another soul to Jesus; I guess time will tell. The minister (the same man who baptized Lyla in the river) hits Tim between the eyes with his message about putting the past behind him: "You think God no longer loves you," the pastor says, "but He loves you very, very much." That's a pretty great message for a lost lamb like Tim to hear, and it actually seems to leave him a little breathless. I can feel the power at work in the scene -- the music swells, people heed the altar call, and when Lyla reaches out and touches Tim's shoulder, I get all choked up and goose-bumpy.

Apparently, I'm not the only one. Tim shows up later in Lyla's room (where, conveniently, she's stripped down to her pretty lace bra), and tells her about the power he felt in the church, and how maybe she's not full of shit like he thought. She gives him a hug, but when he follows it up with a kiss, she pushes him away and orders him out, asking him if he thought that "line" about feeling closer to God with her would really work. The sad thing is that whether he once was lost and now he's found or not, I believe he was being absolutely sincere in that moment. She's the only person in his life right now offering anything good; who else would he go to? Whether it would stick is a different question, but far as I know, the Bible doesn't say to love only the neighbors who are already saved. He's trying, Lyla! Cut the boy some slack; he's having a hard week.

As if Billy and Lyla weren't enough, Jason's come down hard on Tim, too. After Tim ditches practice to "rest" (ie. have another twelve-pack before noon) Jason rolls over to his house and strips some skin off him, saying flat-out, "You're a screw-up." Tim slouches in the doorway like he's posing for the 2008 Men of West Texas Hotass Calendar, holding a bottle of the breakfast of champions in his hand. I'm enjoying that lean in those jeans so much I have to rewind to catch all the mean things they say to each other, including Tim telling Jason that he makes a better friend than he does a coach, but the implication is strong that he's not doing particularly well with either. Oh, boys.

"WE GOT A MAP?" -- Despite the cameo from Herc the Jerc, who tells Jason that the experimental stem-cell surgery is a scam, Jason decides to go to Mexico to learn more about what options are available to him, tilting at the mobility windmill like Don Quixote riding a wheelchair. Tim, bless his half-drunk heart, ignores the fact that Jason just shattered a beer bottle on his front door and told Tim he was the worst and stupidest friend in the world, and goes along as his Sancho Panza. Let's hope Tim can inject a note of realism into Jason's nut-brained idealistic pursuit. I've been trying to figure out what their dynamic in this episode reminded me of, where Jason tells off Tim, and Tim just sort of takes it and sees beyond the angry words and basically indulges Jason's little tantrum, because down deep they're still BFF, and it suddenly struck me -- with their lingering shadow of infidelity and essentially unshakeable lifelong friendship, they're the Blair and Serena of Friday Night Lights.

I'm off to Hotlanta next weekend, so my buddy Meg will be filling in as the FNL recapper. I'm sure she'll take good care of my baby!