We could be heroes

What you're reading is all della femina's fault. I read her recaps of the original Queer as Folk, and they were so good that I decided to join the rest of society in getting cable, as well as HBO and Showtime, so that I could watch Oz and the U.S. adaptation of Queer as Folk. In addition to these shows, I've been given access to such wonderful viewing options as Short Circuit 2, Police Academy 2, Sister Act 2, and Green Card. Now that's twelve dollars per month well spent, wouldn't you say? Yeah, me neither. Anyway, Showtime has been attempting to inflict Varsity Blues on me at seemingly all hours of the day. Determined to get some use out of this investment, which probably could have been better spent on gay porn considering the reasons behind it, I asked Sars if she'd like me to recap this "delightful teen drama" -- and do visualize me making the air-quote gesture with both hands there. She agreed, because she had a appointment to have her skin peeled off, dipped in pickling juice, and then sewn back on, a preferable alternative to seeing James Van Der Beek for a 120-minute stretch. Any money made from this recap will be going to a charitable fund -- the "Buy Shack Enough Tequila To Forget Beek's Atrocious Texan Accent Fund." The B.S.E.T.F.B.A.T.A.F. thanks you for your support. Varsity Blues is an MTV Production. Thanks for the warning. I'm wincing already and I haven't even seen Beek's name. The Texas state flag flies behind the opening title as we cut to postcard pastoral views of rural Texas. A narrator's voice, so smug and nasal that you can already guess this is James Van Der Beek, intones solemnly, "In America we have laws: laws against killing; laws against stealing. And it's just accepted that as a member of American society, you will live by these laws." As opposed to those heathens in European and Asian countries who all have much higher murder and theft rates than the United States. Except for the "higher" part. We pan across some stadium lights. "In Texas there's another society," Beek continues, "which has its own laws." We cut to a referee, giving all sorts of official gestures, one of which points out where the emergency exit would be if I were watching this in a theater. So, I guess I can't say I wasn't warned in advance. "Football, is a way of life," Beek says, as we cut to footage of him playing football with his friends as a kid. He introduces himself as Jonathan "Mox" Moxon, but I'm going to nip that name in the bud right here. Beek already sounds as self-important and whiny as Dawson is, and his attempt at a drawl falls several thousand miles outside of Texas, landing somewhere in the City of Our Budget Only Covers Four Hours With A Dialect Coach. For those reasons, I shall be referring to our protagonist as Drawlson. More narration: "As a boy growing up in West Canaan, Texas, you never question the sanctity of football. You just did what the coaches said and tried your best to win. At all costs." Yeah, Drawlson's utterly emotionless narration here totally sells me on the idea that football and coaches are bad influences on little boys. I lie, actually. It doesn't. Fortunately, they include clips of parents and coaches yelling at these little boys to make up for Smug Flutie's crappy delivery. Four young boys in football uniforms slouch off the field to the sad strains of The Symphony Of Chafing Under Adult Expectations. We cut to a photograph of said image, held in Drawlson's hand while he lies in bed with a Kurt Vonnegut novel. I got to interview Vonnegut for my newspaper when I was in college. Shout-out? Incidentally, Vonnegut told me to go fuck myself, which I dutifully reported. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I was a pretty crappy interviewer back then, so he might have meant it. Anyway, Drawlson stares at the picture for a bit, then uses it for a bookmark. An announcer on a radio playing in the background reports the specifics of an upcoming football game, just in case we had fallen asleep during Drawlson's opening monologue (a definite possibility) and forgotten that this is a football movie. We pan across the room, where a young, shirtless boy is standing with a man-sized cross tied to his back. Ahhh, religion, another wacky Southern quirk. The boy asks Drawlson if he's going to play tonight, to which he sneeringly expositions, "Do I ever play? Lance is the best quarterback in the state, why would we want anyone to play but him, hmmm?" Jesus Jr. suggests a couple of possibilities that could put Drawlson on the field, including Lance getting hurt, but Drawlson will hear none of it. He makes an unfunny joke about Jesus Jr. being religious and tells him to pray for the health of Lance Harbor. Then he pushes Jesus Jr. backwards onto the bed, rendering the boy helpless because his hands are tied to the cross and he can't get up. I hate Drawlson already. A moment for Beek's hair, the focus of much derision in the Creek recaps and on the forums. It's brown here instead of blond. I'm not quite convinced it's his natural color, but it's close. The style is sort of rebel fifties, a little slicked up and teased in the front, but still within regulation shortness for boys who aren't "sissies" -- essentially a sorry attempt to mimic James Dean. But honestly, it's still better than the rotating display of dead sea anemones liberated from jars in Capeside High's biology lab that they stick on his head for Dawson's Creek. His forehead even nearly looks normal-sized. He still has a face like a camel, but I guess there's nothing we can do about that. Except make fun of it. In the kitchen, the cast credits roll as Drawlson's dad reads the paper (just the fact that Lance Harbor continues to exist is enough for his name to be splashed across the top of the sports page) and asks Drawlson if he prayed for playing time in the game. Drawlson jokes about having an eleven-year-old Jesus in his room. Dad gripes at Jesus Jr. because his religious fervor may distract Drawlson from the game. Drawlson says, "He's just experimenting." Yeah, that's how it starts, you know -- you just get a little tipsy and start flirting with a few proverbs. thing you know you're selling your blood to buy Jerry Falwell sermons on tape and robbing convenience stores to pay for sterling silver "WWJD" bracelets. Finally, they find you sleeping the gutter, muttering The Lord's Prayer and offering to give blowjobs for Virgin Mary nightlights. Understandably, Dad wants to nip all this in the bud. Drawlson walks out to catch his ride while Jesus Jr. unamusingly tries to eat breakfast while still attached to the cross. Waiting for Drawlson is Billy "Sugar Daddy" Bob in his pickup truck and cowboy hat. He hollers, "Hey, Mox, you skinny-ass bitch, let's roll!" This is funny because Billy Bob is fat. Okay, we all know it's not even remotely funny. I'm just trying to guess why the writers thought this was funny. Billy Bubba starts to drive off as Drawlson races after the truck. Oh, and there's a live pig sitting to Billy Bob in the front seat. Is there even any point in making fun of the pig? Should I instead make fun of the writer, a Mr. W. Peter Iliff, for his crappy, stereotypical portrayal of Southern rurals? Well, what should we expect from the writer of Point Break and Prayer of the Rollerboys? According to the IMDb, there's also an uncredited writer, John Gatins, who has lent a hand on movies like Leprechaun 3, Pumpkinhead II, and, uh, Gods and Monsters. Anyway, we also catch a glimpse of a cute African-American guy riding in the truck bed. Drawlson catches up to the truck and jumps into the passenger side, to the pig. The pig is understandably upset at having to sit to somebody who clearly puts a ton of lard on his head every morning. Drawlson pushes the pig, named Bacon, back into the truck bed with the other guy (named Wendell), who complains and threatens to toss the pig out into the street. Daddy Bob says, "I love that dog," and Drawlson reminds him that Bacon's a pig. Oh, Bubba Bob has pancakes in the truck with him, which he is smearing in a jar of peanut butter and eating, followed by a shotgun of pancake syrup directly out of the bottle. I'm so very tired already, and we're still in the credits, people! I just can't wait for Scott Caan's ass. Save us, Scott's ass! But no, we have to stop at Lance "Brian Hickolo" Harbor's house first, where there's a freakin' billboard outside, featuring an ten-foot-tall artist's rendition of Lance pulling his arm back to toss a long bomb. I take that as a meta-comment about the release of this film. "Beef, It's What's for Dinner" music plays as Lance confidently strides out of his house to survey his kingdom. Billy Boy runs up to take Lance's sports bag, lest the weight strain his rotator cuff or something. Lance exclaims, "I love you, brother!" as he hugs Bubba Daddy. "I had the most wonderful dream last night!" I think the star quarterback is a big stoner. For some reason, Lance rides in the bed with Wendell and Bacon. What, we're not concerned that the vibrating truck bed might throw out his vertebrae? Well, the hell with that -- the Rock Guitar of Wacky Rebellion plays as Charlie "Johnny Unitass" Tweeder rushs out of his house to the truck. He flips into the truck, takes off his hat, grabs the light bar on the top of the truck, and hollers and waves his hat like he's riding a bucking bronco. "Good mooning, boys, good mooning," Tweeder says, as he drops his pants and sticks his naked ass through the window to the cab. Maybe they kept showing this movie as viewer preparation for Queer as Folk? Tweeder has a tattoo of a howling coyote on one butt cheek. I rewound and paused repeatedly just to make sure. It has nothing to do with the fact that I think that Scott Caan is a hottie. Really. I'm just doing my job. I swear. Where were we? Oh yeah, Scott Caan's hot ass. Mmmm…anyway, Tweeder sticks his head through the window (no, not that head, because this isn't Queer as Folk) and tosses out a bunch of ass-related puns to ask Billy Bo Bob about some Mary Ann chick that he thinks is hot. "She's got this look, like she fell out of the 'I wanna suck your dick' tree and hit every branch on the way down," Tweeder says. Okay, note the subtlety with which the writer defined Tweeder as a guy that will say or do anything in just the space of a few seconds? Oops, I left the "Not!" out of that last sentence. I'll ask Sars to edit it in. ["No need, my boy." -- Sars] Drawlson tells Tweeder to calm down and focus. Tweeder shouts, "I can't focus; I need to get some ass!" I shouted something back at the television, but I'm ashamed to say what it was. Green Day sings us out of the credits. The things we do to stay in MTV's good graces, eh Billy Joe? The boys drive through downtown, where game banners are being unfurled, and arrive at school. Crowds of kids surround them, in case we have forgotten again (perhaps stunned by the beauty of Scott Caan's ass) that West Canaan worships football. (Humorous sidebar: My real first name is also Scott, so every time I mention Scott Caan's ass, Word wants to plug in my full name instead. Rest assured, my ass appears nowhere in this movie. And probably not in this recap either, unless I can get some of that aforementioned tequila.) The school's mascot is a coyote, so we know Tweeder's got some school spirit. You just know that after he graduates, he's going to join those men who just cannot let go of their high-school glory days and are terribly pathetic. And we'll get to those men in just a bit if you keep up with me. Game night. Locker room. Sugar Bo Bob is clutching a bar in his locker and seething, "Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I will fear no faggots from Bingville." Oh, that's just nice. I didn't know you could combine blasphemy and homophobia. Although, honestly, I suspect that's a sadly realistic portrayal of locker-room preparation tactics. Drawlson wanders by, and Wendell, in the process of taping up his leg, tells Drawlson to stay loose in the unlikely event that he gets put in the game. I am trying like hell to avoid my natural inclination to run my eyes down the lower body of any guy wearing those tight football pants, because I really, really don't want to see what Beek has to offer. Really. Please God, let's not go there. Tweeder comes into the frame, and I breathe a sigh of relief for having something to rest my eyes on. Tweeder displays a new end-zone dance for Drawlson, cleverly titled "Tweeter's New End-Zone Dance." What happened to the guy who invented The I Want to Suck Your Dick Tree? He books, and Drawlson wanders by the team doc's office. The Piano of Self Sacrifice plays sadly as the doc injects 50 ccs of foreshadowing into Lance's knee. Because they'll do anything to win. Because they worship football. Have you caught all that? I know it's complicated, but you know, I've seen you post on the message boards and I'm confident that you can keep it up with the subtle themes reflected in this textured and complex film. If not, I suspect they'll be brought up another seven hundred times before the movie ends. Coach Killjoy closes the door on Drawlson. Kinda stupid to do that after giving the injection, Coach. Cut to the game. Crushing blows, cheering, announcing, et cetera. Drawlson has his playbook open, but hidden inside is his copy of Slaughterhouse Five. Okay, obviously since our writers are incapable of writing dialogue that would believably present a character as an intellectual, they've decided to give him props that an intellectual person might have in the hopes they will serve as a surrogate. They don't. Coach Killjoy looks sidelong over to Drawlson, like he knows the boy ain't really studying plays. And of course, looking sidelong at somebody always makes you look evil, as Homer Simpson explained once in an episode of The Simpsons. Anyway, Lance tosses the ball out of bounds and it lands by Drawlson. Drawlson picks up the ball and tosses it over to the referee. Actually, Drawlson throws the ball; it makes a ridiculous whooshing noise as it goes up in the air; they use editing to make it look like he threw the ball really far, but they go a little overboard with it, and it looks like he threw it over to an adjacent football field; the referee catches it and goes, "Oof!" Because Drawlson is really a great quarterback on top of being an intellectual. Oh, and he made that spectacular throw without standing up. With his weenie little arms. The cheerleaders of the opposing team spell out "W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R." Elsewhere at the party, Tweeder tricks some sad hanger-on who graduated twenty years ago into thinking he's going to be on some wacky video show. Then Tweeder hits him in the groin with a baseball bat. Laugh now, butt boy. In twenty years some other drunken, witless teen will be humiliating you in front of his jock friends when you're still hanging out at these parties. In another room, Bobby Boy is playing quarters with Jules and losing. Because guys always lose to girls in drinking games in movies and on television. Because girls outdrinking guys = comedy gold mine. Because, see, the girls aren't supposed to win. Get it? They're supposed to be fragile, virginal teetotalers. Yeah, I hold up three fingers, which do not symbolize "W" as in "George W. Bush." They symbolize "W" as in "Whatever." I only require one finger to comment on Dubya, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Billy Bob reaches his limit, and we're forced to endure some ridiculous cartoon-like stomach sound effects as he runs around the house to find a place to puke. He runs out into the garage, where Lance, with his pants and underwear down on his ankles, is very much engaging in some "illegal contact" (wink, wink) with Gellaren't on top of the dryer. Billy Billy Bo Billy opens up the washer to them and cuts loose with some liquid yawns. We cut to daytime practice. On the sidelines, we're treated to those terribly pathetic men clinging to their glory days I mentioned earlier. The boys' dads, that is. I'm never more grateful to have had a dad even less interested in sports than me than when I see these types of scenes. Don't you guys have jobs? Killjoy calls out the second stringers for a scrimmage. He refers to them as "Dummy-os." I replayed this several times, thinking perhaps he's actually saying some sort of football terminology I'm unfamiliar with, but I think he's just deriding them for not being good enough for the starting offense. Because he's evil. And he's apparently also six years old, because he can't think of a better taunt than "Dummy-o." Drawlson takes his time, because he has to pick off all the flower petals on his helmet, which had been previously used as a Rose Bowl float decoration because they couldn't find a conventional helmet that would fit. Killjoy rides Drawlson for his attitude. I'll have to side with him, even though Drawlson hasn't said a word, just because he calls Drawlson "shithead." The idiot men on the sidelines laugh and suggest that these boys are having the time of their lives. Bleah. King of the Hill pulls all this crap off with more humor, intelligence and pathos. And it embraces exaggeration, rather than attempting to pawn it off on us as some sort of semblance of reality, unlike this sorry crap. Drawlson calls some sort of play that Killjoy doesn't approve of. Killjoy gives Drawlson a profanity-laden rant as Drawlson attempts to explain this as some move that won some game somewhere a long time ago, and I have no intention of rewinding this part over and over again for details. Besides, something tells me this play is going to come up again. That something is my Big Book Of Sports Movie Clichés, which is sitting here on my desk. The point of this whole conflict is that Drawlson is a creative leader who wants to do things his way, and Coach Killjoy is a stuck-in-the-past leader who wants to do things his way. Coach Killjoy grabs Drawlson by the helmet, yanking him around and shrieking, "We do things around here my way, you understand that! You think you're in some fancy school? Bullshit. You show me the kind of smarts -- makes me wonder if you know the difference between a sneeze and a wet fart!" That rant made almost no sense at all, but simply serves to amplify Killjoy's evil because he doesn't think Drawlson's smart. But we all know he's smart, because he reads Vonnegut, right? Right. The 'rents make fun of Drawlson. Drawlson's dad says, "I stood up to it. So will he." Oh god, Dad's just testing Drawlson's manhood. Guh. So everybody knows that Drawlson doesn't want to play football and they're just letting this go on and on because they think it'll make a man out of him. Well it obviously didn't work for any of them. Jesus. Doesn't anybody in this movie have any balls? Anyway, we cut to some barbecue where Lance's and Drawlson's dads talk about putting their group of kids into football and continuing their trend of living vicariously through the lives of their boys. Why anybody would want to live vicariously through Drawlson is beyond me. I'm still wondering why Kevin Williamson wanted to live vicariously through Van Der Beek. Jesus Jr. is in monk's robes, praying over the meat on the barbecue. Football horseplay ensues as the dads force the sons to throw footballs to them. Lance is perfect. Drawlson overshoots and causes his dad to run into the fence. The dad looks sheepish, as well he should. Put the testosterone away, Baldy, and flip the burgers. But no, the dads get all alpha male about which son should be quarterback. Lance's dad suggests a William Tell type competition, with the boys knocking beer cans off the dads' heads with thrown footballs. And then the dads will have a contest to see who can piss the fire out on the barbecue. The boys look sheepish, just in case we don't get the fact that they're just trying to please the men. Okay, we get it! I call the Coyote Marching Band's director to ask him to have them spell out "We Get It!" during the halftime show. So Lance tosses the ball and knocks the can off perfectly. It's Drawlson's turn. Apparently our director hasn't been studying his playbook either, because he confuses the directing techniques for "Person Being Teased" with "Person Suffering A Heart Attack Or Stroke." Everyone's voice starts to sound like it's coming from an echo chamber as they tease Drawlson and call him a chicken, etc. It's so lame. I look up the director on IMDb. Our hack is one Brian Robbins, also known for directing Good Burger. And, uh, as playing Eric on Head of the Class. So this is a director whose best years are…well…whose best years never even happened. Anyway, Drawlson responds in the most appropriate, intelligent, and mature way he knows how. He turns around and deliberately chucks the ball into his dad's face. I could have possibly accepted it as an accident if I hadn't seen Drawlson's nostril-flaring, scrunched-up cat's ass face. Oh, and he doesn't look at all sorry and stomps off, leaving the others take care of Dad's bleeding nose. Yeah, Drawlson's a big hero, all right. And by "hero," I mean that variation of the word that means "smug, self-absorbed, obnoxious, self-important, cowardly prick." Another day, another scene. We're in a sex-ed class, as evidenced by the anatomical cross-section drawing of a penis that is covering my entire television screen. I am so glad I am not seeing this in a theater. Oh, and I GET THE WHOLE DAMNED TESTOSTERONE THING, OKAY! You don't need to stick a damned penis in my face for me to get it! But if you do, you could at least give me the option to decide whose it is. Jesus, show some manners! Anyway, an attractive woman with nerdy glasses and hair up in a bun, looking like every sexy teacher in every hair-band video, ever, is giving a lecture on sex. She tells the students she wants to get past the terminology and exhorts them to say," Penis, penis, penis. Vagina, vagina, vagina," unwittingly recapping half of John Cage's lines in the episode of Ally McBeal. The students repeat it, recapping the other half. Today's lecture is on the male erection. So help me God, there's no way in hell I'm going to believe that a teacher is giving a lecture on erections in a Texas biology class. Okay, I did learn the biology behind erections in high school, but it was in a specialized, yearlong class focusing just on human anatomy. And even then, it was like two paragraphs of lecture material, not an entire freaking class. Anyway, Hot For Teacher uses it as an excuse to get the students to toss out slang words for erections and earnestly congratulate them, in a tone of voice similar to the one you might use to praise a kindergartner for recognizing the difference between a triangle and a circle. Billy Bob asks to go to the bathroom. He gets stuck in the desk trying to get up, in case you had forgotten that he was fat. Hot For Teacher asks if anybody else has a nickname for erections. Drawlson takes the opportunity to rattle off a whole bunch of euphemisms for the purpose of I have no freaking idea, except perhaps to make me ill considering that Drawlson spends too much time thinking about penises, which reminds me of the rumors about Beek that have been mentioned on the forums. Oh, and Drawlson looks freakishly smug for having known all those nicknames. Cree. Pee. As they say around here. Anyhow, Billy Bob goes into the bathroom and breathes heavily and looks all pasty and not well. He splashes water all over himself. He heads back to class with his shirt all wet. Hot For Teacher asks if he's okay, and he responds affirmatively before collapsing to the floor. Cut to the nurse's office. The Lone Guitar Of Suffering For The Good Of The Game plays, and Coach Killjoy arrives to declare Billy Bill's problem to be "nerves" and promises that he'll be able to play the whole game this week. Billy is worried that he was hurt when he landed on his head in the last game, and shouldn't play. Killjoy invokes the district title and convinces Billy Blob to play. Because Killjoy is evil and cares more about a winning record than the safety of his players. Then he leaves, ostensibly to go cut the brake cables on the opposing team's bus. Cut to the football game. Spandex and helmets fly. Bobby Bo Bobby is attached to some oxygen machine on the side. The coach sends Daddy Boy in, even though he's breathing heavily. The Dirge Of Impending Athletic Disaster begins to play. Can you telegraph what's about to happen just a little further, folks? Perhaps cut to a shot of building storm clouds, or have a black cat run across the field? So, the center snaps the ball. Sugar Bubba Bob Billy collapses to the ground, allowing two defensive linemen through to sack Lance in a particularly vicious manner. Lance goes down screaming and grabbing his knee. The music is reminiscent of what was played when the ship sank in White Squall and young people actually, you know, died. Overwrought much, folks? Bubba Bo Bob Brain wakes up, realizes what happened, and freaks out and blames himself. And in comes Drawlson, with a little over a minute left in the game and the Coyotes down by three. People in the stands and the box deride Drawlson, on the basis that he never gets any playing time. Not to defend Drawlson, but whose fault is that, exactly? Let's all give a pointed glare to Coach Bud "One Basket Is Enough To Hold All These Eggs" Kilmer. Anyway, because we've already been shown in a ridiculously contrived manner that Drawlson has a good passing game, it comes as no surprise that his first outing results in a 40-yard completion. But the clock is still ticking down. Drawlson needs to stop it by getting the ball off the field. He looks over and sees a giant green bumblebee. No, he's not on whatever they've been injecting into Lance. It's the opposing team's mascot. Coming up with the kind of mature, sportsmanlike plan (NOT!) we would expect, Drawlson calls a quick hike and hurls the ball directly into the head of the bumblebee. Okay, the guys in those mascot suits aren't exactly little pixie boys. I'd love to see the bumblebee guy run out and kick Drawlson's ass for that. Oh, and there was nothing resembling a receiver anywhere near the sidelines there. There's a rule against just deliberately tossing the ball off the field with no intended receiver. It's called "intentional grounding." You get penalized ten yards for it (thank you, football.com). Oh, and we're supposed to like Drawlson for physically assaulting innocent people, but hate Killjoy for berating them? I'm sorry, but you could give me all the money the Republicans spent to bring their own favorite idiot Texan into the Oval Office, but it still wouldn't be enough for me to buy into this crap. And where the hell is Scott Caan? Can't I at least have some eye candy? Anyway, the offensive coach tosses out signals for Drawlson's play, but Drawlson doesn't know the signs because he didn't study the playbook like he was supposed to. I can only imagine what real football players must have felt watching this movie. If Drawlson was on an actual football team he…well, he wouldn't be, frankly. Yeah, Killjoy is an evil, rabid nutball, but his criticism of Drawlson's attitude is exactly on the mark. So anyway, Drawlson just comes up with his own play, a flashy maneuver involving lateral throws, the kind of play that football movie directors love but hardly ever actually occur in real games (because they probably don't actually work), and they get the touchdown and win. Of course. Because Drawlson, who doesn't pay attention to the games, ignores the coach, and doesn't study his playbook, is just that good. Yeah, stand back everyone, sports hero in the making here. We cut to the hospital, where a bunch of folks are awaiting word. A doctor tells Daddy Harbor that Lance is out for the season and probably won't be able to play again for at least a year and a half, if ever, costing the boy his opportunity to play for Florida State University. Okay, missing a chance to quarterback at FSU does indeed suck. The doctor mentions that he's surprised nothing happened to Lance until now, because there's a ton of scar tissue in his knee. Killjoy is there, and denies knowing anything about Lance's knee. Drawlson is also there, and glares at Killjoy for lying. But his facial expression is usually a glare, so Killjoy doesn't notice the difference. Drawlson gives Jules a hug and leaves, telling her to call him. Gellaren't, recognizing that her meal ticket has been downgraded from The Four Seasons to Arby's, decides to leave too. Now we're in Drawlson's crappy, beat-up car. He's giving Gellaren't a ride to the post-game party. Oh, this is going to be sad. Looks like Gellaren't wants to exchange her meal ticket for dinner at Café Forehead. Girl, stick with Arby's. The food is less greasy, and the service is a lot less snotty. She starts peeling off her cheerleader outfit. Drawlson gets nervous, but she excuses it because she's got underwear on and claims it's just like being in a swimsuit. She flirts with Drawlson. Drawlson says Lance is going to get better and that they (Gellaren't and Lance) love each other. Gellaren't says, "Things change," and asks if Drawlson is serious about Jules. Blah blah blah slutcakes. Why Gellaren't is trying to get into Drawlson's pants is beyond me, because Killjoy's got his balls in a jar in his office anyway. Drawlson drops her off at the party. He's not going to attend, because he feels it's wrong to party with Lance injured. Gellaren't has slipped into some little red dress. She gets out of the car and tells Drawlson, "You don't always have to do the right thing, Mox. We'll continue this anytime you want." If anybody here can point out where Drawlson has done the right thing even once so far in this movie, please let me know, because I'm not seeing it. Gellaren't joins the party, greeting Tweeder (finally!) as she walks in. A couple of deputies wander up to bother Tweeder and make sure nobody drinks and drives. Because they don't care if under-age kids just drink. Because it's Texas and all. Tweeder compliments the deputies on their "cute Mount-me hats." Deputy: "Mount me?" Tweeder: "Not right now, but maybe after a couple of drinks." First of all, that was an incredibly lame joke. Second of all, uh, how many drinks would it take? I'm just asking. Really, it's just for the recap. The deputy gets pissed, and Tweeder apologizes and says he's going to stop drinking and go home. He starts walking off. And then he steals the deputies' car and drives off, sirens blaring. Elsewhere, Drawlson is at a convenience store attempting to purchase a cool, refreshing, product-placed bottle of Coca-Cola. Instead, the shopkeeper puts the bottle aside and pulls a six-pack of beer up from under the counter. Okay, skanky American cola or skanky (and warm) American beer? That's a tough call. Me, I'm a Pepper, if there are any convenience-store clerks out there looking to reward me for all my hard work on this recap. Oh, and I'll take that bottle of tequila, too. Slow-on-the-uptake Drawlson asks how much the beer is, but the clerk says, "Your money's no good here." Much to my surprise, Drawlson accepts the gift and leaves with the beer. I half expected some sort of "you only like me because I'm the starting quarterback now" snit fit, but no. Not that I'm complaining. Drawlson wanders down the street, past storefronts covered with coyote logos and slogans painted on the windows, as he drinks a beer, all alone and looking sad, because nobody understands the little smarty-pants quarterback. Awwww. Here, have some fat-free frozen yogurt, because I care exactly that much. He sits on a curb and hides his beer as a police car, sirens blaring, roars down the street and stops right in front of him. It's Tweeder, of course, who declares through the car's loudspeaker, "Jonathon Moxon, you are under arrest for not being naked with some sophomore chick who wants to bathe you with her tongue." I think this is an actual law in Texas, part of a package of laws Dubya pushed through because they reminded him of his college days. Some of the other laws require you to drink yourself unconscious at least once each weekend and give atomic wedgies to any nerds, geeks, or foreign exchange students you come across. Tweeder is, indeed, naked in the car with three girls (also naked). Tweeder gets out of the car, using his cowboy hat to cover his goods. He tells Drawlson they've got handcuffs and all sorts of toys to play with, and to take off his clothes and get into the car. I don't want to jump ahead too quickly, but I can sense that you're about to vomit, claw your eyes out, take your own life, or something like that, so let me just say, HE DOESN'T TAKE HIS CLOTHES OFF. Thank you, Lord. And I mean that. Anyway, back to the scene at hand. Some bimbo leans out of the police car window and tells Drawlson, "Tweeder threw my clothes out the window. Will you come and keep me warm?" Drawlson declines, but walks over to give her his varsity jacket. How sweet. I bet Jules will be mightily pissed when she sees the girl wearing it to school on Monday. There's extended Caan ass-age in this scene, which almost makes it worthwhile. God, the boy's got a bod. Anyway, Tweeder drives off with the girls. Drawlson wanders over to the Harbor house and tosses pebbles at Jules's window. She opens it, and he asks her if he woke her up. She says, "No, I was laying in bed naming my unborn children." Uh, wha? Umm…okay, that is just not something you say to your high-school boyfriend, ever. They chat. She congratulates Drawlson for winning the game. He says he feels strange. She asks, "Strange to be a god now?" Yeah, having the bottom half of a goat really takes some getting used to. Blah blah blah…Drawlson stutters and mutters, subtly (not!) projecting the theme of Not Wanting To Be A Hero For Playing Football. I'm sure we'll be hearing this theme now till the end of the movie. I'm already sick of it. Drawlson says he's going home. Night passes. At some seedy bar, the sheriff or a deputy or whatever is complaining to some hick about Tweeder, who exposed himself to the ladies' auxiliary. Sheriff blames it on beer and painkillers. The sheriff says he might have to put a stop to this stuff. But then Killjoy, who has been sitting in a booth all this time, asks the sheriff if the "boys are too much trouble for [him]." The sheriff immediately turns into a great big wimp and backs down. Killjoy must have a water cooler full of testicles sitting in his office. So, it's another football night, this time against the Waynesboro Broncos. Drawlson runs the ball in for a touchdown. He gets his own cheer. After the game, he and Jules find a sign on his car that says "Mox is a Fox." I choose to believe that the sign means he should be hunted for sport. Hot For Teacher drives by in a nice convertible to congratulate Drawlson. A radio announcer comes by to ask Drawlson how he feels now that he's out of Lance's shadow. Drawlson is actually humble and praises Lance's skills, then ruins it all by thanking God for the win. (God responds, "I didn't want him to win, but the other team had been planting different types of crops in the same field, so what choice did I have? Read your Bible, folks!") Drawlson concludes by saying, "I mean, Jonathon Moxon is only one man. I'm just one man." Both Jules and the interviewer look at Drawlson like he's the biggest idiot ever. And you're not even one man, Troy Fakeman, until you get your balls back from Killjoy. Jules mocks him for his interview responses, as well she should. She leaves to go see Lance. Drawlson looks all smug. Shut up, Drawlson. Ugh. They're putting up a billboard for Drawlson in front of his house now. I'm surprised they didn't have to put a little blinking red light on the top of that giant head so planes wouldn't accidentally crash into it. We move along to another day of practice, where Drawlson is putting the guys through more foolishly risky plays. They're working on a play where they toss the ball to Bubba Billy Boo Bob. He keeps dropping the ball, because -- duh! -- he's not there to catch balls. Bobby Bo Bob Daddy falls down. Killjoy comes out to mock them. I'm on his side here. I don't even know all that much about football, but I know Drawlson's plays are stupid. Coach spits, "Stick to the basics," as he whacks his whistle (no, not like that) against Drawlson's helmet. "You only call what I tell you to call. You hear me in there? You are the damned dumbest smart kid I know." Oh, word! Word infinity. I don't care if you fill high-school jocks with drugs and chew up scenery. You're all right by me, Coach Kilmer. Kick his scrawny, snotty ass! Cut to Killjoy's trophy-filled office. He calls in Billy Bob and proceeds to chew him up, spit him out, and call in the dogs to feed on the entrails. He calls him fat and lazy and blames him for Lance's broken leg. Bobby Boy blames his head injury, but Killjoy doesn't care and tells him to "fix it." Then he kicks him out. Okay, so Gellaren't strides across the parking lot, wearing a mini-skirt that says "Beat 'em" on her left butt-cheek in a white patch shaped like a heart. I don't think I even need to make fun of that. Okay, she's a slut. Okay. I will accept that characterization. Now, could you please. Put. It. Away. So she strides up to Drawlson and asks him when he's coming over. He's confused. She says, "It's half-price night at the gun club. My parents never get home until twelve." Gun club? Are there any more Texas stereotypes we can toss in here? I haven't seen any oil pumps yet. Or line dancing. Or rodeos. Drawlson tries to bring up Lance, but Gellaren't won't hear of it. She tells him to come by any time after seven. Drawlson goes to some convenience store. He lies to himself, "Why be good? I'm always good. Where's my up side to being good?" You wouldn't know because you aren't, you whiny little bag of snob. He picks up a box of condoms and considers the possibility of boffing Gellaren't. Then he sees his little brother in the aisle. His little brother is in a little suit with a little bow tie and glasses. He's gone from Jesus Jr. to Farrakhan Jr. Yes, that's right, he's now in the Nation of Islam. This is so not funny. It will take seven million light years for the spaceship that this joke is on to reach the galaxy that is the home of Planet Funny. Drawlson asks Farrakhan Jr. if Allah would boff Gellaren't, given the opportunity. A fuel cell goes out on the spaceship. The trip will now take eight million years. Farrakhan Jr. scratches his head in thought; then we cut to the counter, where the boy is buying the condoms for Drawlson. The spaceship is sucked into a black hole and will never, ever reach Planet Funny. Drawlson shows up at the Gellaren't home. Blah blah blah flirtcakes. Gellaren't offers to make them sundaes. Drawlson agrees. She putters around in the kitchen while Drawlson looks at pictures of her and Lance in a display cupboard, to a zillion rifles. Then she comes out of the kitchen, naked, except for whipped cream over her breasts and crotch (and two strategically positioned cherries). All this does for me is make me wonder about all those horrible urban legends of nasty things that happen to women who put food in or near their naughty places. I wouldn't know the veracity of such stories, as Women's Naughty Parts is not a planet on the destination log for Spaceship Shack. She calls Drawlson over, and they start making out. Then Drawlson wimps out. He says he doesn't love her. She says it's not about love, it's about not ending up a manager at Wal-Mart. She's not looking for a meal ticket; she's looking for a bus ticket. Drawlson assures her that she'll get out on her own merits. I bet if she pulled this stunt on the highway, somebody would take her wherever she wanted to go. Anyway, that actually wasn't a bad scene there at the end. Okay, Drawlson did the right thing once. Don't worry, I'm not getting soft. School the day. Drawlson stops by Wendell's locker to tell him to meet him at the mini-mart tonight for some secret gathering, and inquires about Billy Bob's location. Wendell hasn't seen him, and says that Killjoy has been riding him hard. Then we pull into Wendell's tiny little subplot for this movie. He starts bitching about Killjoy being a racist. Apparently, Wendell rushes for more than 100 yards per game, but Killjoy pulls him when the team gets close to the goal and hands the ball off to white players. Wendell has only gotten three touchdowns all season. Okay, I need to make sure I word this rant carefully. First of all, as if! And that is directed not at Wendell, but at the hack writers for resorting to this utter lunacy in order to secure Kilmer as the villain. Because it's not enough that this coach is mean, bitter, and abusive. They have to make him racist, too, so there can be no question that he's a bad, bad man. And as if a coach could ever build a championship-winning team and still engage in racist practices like that. I won't deny that such behavior most definitely exists. When I was in high school, I recall another school with a reputation for widespread racism in the treatment of its black players. But you know what else it had a reputation for? Losing. And I'm not even trying to wade into that whole minefield of "are blacks better athletes?" What I'm saying is that don't even expect me to believe that a coach who is willing to do anything to win is going to let something like race play a role in who he puts where. ANYWAY, Warren's mom has to do recruiting for him, because Killjoy doesn't care. Drawlson looks bored during Wendell's entire rant, no doubt waiting to talk about himself and his dumb ideas. Drawlson promises to get Wendell in the end zone. No, not like that. Gellaren't meets Drawlson in the hallway. They affirm their friendship, and she kisses him. Jules sees this from down the hall and gets pissed. Yawn. Why are they adding more subplots this far into the movie? At practice, Tweeder praises the concept of drugging girls to get them in the sack. I'm guessing this is his advice to Drawlson? This joke is so unfunny that its spaceship explodes on the launch pad. Drawlson asks Tweeder if he thinks he's going to enjoy prison (Ka-boom.), then books after telling Tweeder about the secret mini-mart meeting. Tweeder inspects down inside his jock and asks himself, "What the fuck is that?" (Ka-boom.) Perhaps he's the first to discover that Killjoy took his balls. Night falls, and Drawslon goes to one of those walk-up-window fast-food places where Jules works. Jules busts him for the kiss and dismisses him, saying, "I don't date football players." Drawlson says he's always been a football player. Jules responds, "No. You were something different. At least I thought you were." Yeah, he was a self-absorbed, pseudo-intellectual coward who didn't have the balls to quit a game he had no interest in participating in. And now he's the star quarterback. It's, like, irony, but only if you're Alanis Morissette. She tells him to leave, but he won't. So she gets on the speaker and tells everybody the Coyote star quarterback is at her window. He gets mobbed and has to leave. Hee -- you're not getting Jules's spine, Drawlson. Oh, here's the big secret meeting. Drawlson gets them all into a strip club and set up with booze. Bleah. Breasts as far as the eye can see. Billy Bo Budd jumps up on the stage, strips off his shirt (AIEEEEEEEE!), and starts dancing. The bouncer drags him off. Meanwhile, Lance thanks Drawlson for visiting him in the hospital and tells him he's a good friend. Drawlson asks, "You're not going to hug me now, are you?" I'm telling you, Lance is a stoner. Oh look, it's Hot For Teacher. She's a stripper. She's, ummm…actually stripping to the song "Hot For Teacher." And, no, I didn't know that when I gave her that nickname. She is of course mortified to see the boys, but she keeps on stripping and has a drink with them afterwards. Tweeder flirts with her. Morning comes, and the guys are still at the bar. They've sown a few too many wild oats, and stupidly as well, because they have a game tonight. Way to go, Drawlson. You're definitely living up to your reputation as the smart one. Not. Anyway, they play a crappy game, underscored by AC/DC's "Thunderstruck." They lose, 20 to 3. I'm just waiting to see how they're going to make Killjoy the bad guy here, considering it was the boys who are entirely responsible for this. Back in the locker room, Killjoy rips on Drawlson and the other guys for their stupid escapade. He punches over a small ice cooler, which is played like it's some intense, terrifying moment. These people must lead sheltered lives. My fights with my dad are scarier to witness than this. Oh, here we go, here's how we make Killjoy the villain. He calls Drawlson's dad "a no-talent pussy." He mocks Sugar Bob, who has started crying. He blames him for Lance's injury again, and then tosses him out of the locker room. And that's it. Okay, I was in marching band, and some of our dressing-down sessions were nastier than this. I am not at all sympathetic to these guys. At all. If they don't want to be on the football team, then quit! If they don't want to take painkillers to stay in the game, then don't! How mature was it to ruin the game for the other guys? Are we expected to assume they all hate Killjoy? Back at home, Daddy Drawlson rags on him some more. Time to bring on Beek's Oscar Clip. Oh, ha ha ha ha. I kill me. Anyway, this is his rant at Daddy, who is trying to convince him that football is the opportunity of his life: "Playing football at West Canaan is not the opportunity of my lifetime. Playing football at West Canaan may have been the opportunity of your lifetime. But. I. Don't. Want. Your. Life." Okay, a better actor could have made this point while not giving the suggestion that there's something wrong with Daddy Drawlson's life. But Beek's pronouncement is pure judgement -- "Your life sucks, and I don't want anything to do with it." As if the direction Drawlson is heading is something to be proud of. They still have done absolutely nothing in this entire movie that suggests that Drawlson is even a single IQ point smarter than anybody else around him. In the middle of this little snit fit, Drawlson's younger brother (looking completely normal) escorts Bacon in. Sugar Bob dropped the pig off with the boy, telling him that Drawlson will know how to take care of it. Drawlson drives off to the practice field, where Billy Budd is getting drunk and destroying all his football trophies with a rifle. The sound of gunshots attracts no attention from the authorities, of course, because this is Texas. The neighbors probably think they're cleaning bats out of the gymnasium. Billy Bob tosses out some trophy he got when they were nine. Drawlson said they had fun back then, but Billy Bob says he never had fun, even then. He was always being yelled at for being too fat or too slow. Ron Lester does a good job with this scene -- projecting a real mix of sorrow, guilt, and frustration. I think it's partially because there's something tangible to connect Billy Bob to the abuse heaped upon him (his weight issues) as opposed to the very vague, ill-explored desire for independence among the other boys. Now I'm wishing they had done this whole movie from his perspective instead. Hell, I'd rather see it from anybody else's perspective at this point. Anyway, Bob Bob Billy Boo says his days of playing football are over, causing Drawlson to launch into another hissyfit and tell him not to let Killjoy get to him. Bubba Bo Billy Bo Bob asks Drawlson what he should do. Drawlson tells him to quit. Wait, didn't he just tell him seconds ago not to quit? Or were we talking about a different kind of "quitting" before, what with the rifle and abandoning the pig and all? Drawlson tells Billy Bob that he should just forget about Killjoy, and that he doesn't care about his 23rd district championship. Billy Bob responds, "I do! I do! That coach loved me like a son. Treated me like a son, too. He told me to protect Lance and I didn't." Drawlson responds, "Kilmer fucked up and everybody on that team knows it." Billy Bob: "That's where you're wrong, Mox. That's where you're wrong." How much better would this movie had been if it were told from the perspective of somebody who worshipped Kilmer before finding out how horrible he is? I would say a zillion times better than this movie, told from the perspective of somebody who never liked him, or football, or pretty much anything, and who snots his way through the whole flick. Anyway, Drawlson tells Billy Bob that he needs him on the team. "Who the hell is gonna protect my ass?" he asks. Because, you know, being there for Drawlson is as good a reason as any to not kill one's self, and also to put up with a verbally abusive coach. Excuse me while I go collect my eyeballs, which have rolled behind the refrigerator. Anyway, there's some more dialogue, which I'm going to skip because it involves both Drawlson and Billy Bob complimenting Drawlson's ass. You're welcome. Billy hands over the rifle. Drawlson takes the rifle and shoots the face off a poster of Killjoy, hanging under the scoreboard. Okay, that's disturbing behavior, not heroic. Dude. Seek. Professional. Help. Both of you. The day, a couple of men are confronting Drawlson's dad to make sure that the boy's gonna be up for the game. Oh good god -- the younger boy is wearing white robes with weird symbols and has some other boys in tow. Mom asks if he's started a cult. Koresh Jr. says yes. Planet Funny has launched warp-speed missiles to destroy the world that these jokes are originating from, to prevent them from ever landing on its surface. Drawlson wanders in. His dad hands him a letter from Brown University. He's been accepted. His father rains on his parade by saying he's happy Drawlson got in, but he wants to talk to him about this week's football game. Okay, I will allow Drawlson this one pissy moment, because Dad very much deserves it. Drawlson tells him, "Tell me who wins," and stalks off. School. Billy Bob runs up to tell Drawlson that he got a head scan and that he's okay to play again. That's good, because The Big Book Of Sports Movie Clichés tells me that all the wronged players will have to work together to (spoiler!) pull off the big victory at the end of the film. They head to class, where Hot For Teacher asks them not to say anything about her being a stripper. Billy Bubba Bo Bobby asks her to go to the prom with him. Dude, get another head scan. Football practice. Drawlson is there, despite telling his dad he was quitting, because he has no balls. Killjoy pulls Drawlson aside after practice and gives him a very reasonable explanation as to why he prefers a running game to a passing game. Gah, he's a menace! Blow his head off, Drawlson! Drawlson looks at Killjoy like he's dog crap stuck to the bottom of his cleats. Because he knows so much more about football, what with all his championships and the field time he's had. Oh, actually, he doesn't know a damned thing. God, I wish Killjoy was one of those coaches who uses corporal punishment. Of course, since Killjoy is being normal here, it's time to drift over into crazyland so we'll all come back to Drawlson's side. Killjoy threatens to screw with Drawlson's transcripts and ruin his scholarship if he doesn't follow orders. Drawlson glares (sans nostril-flaring, fortunately) and stalks off. Drawlson goes to Jules's house and apologizes. He tells her he got into Brown, and she congratulates him. He tells her about Killjoy's threat. Jules, being all reasonable, points out that it's just a football game. Obviously she has not been picking up on any of the non-subtext about masculinity and independence that the movie's been hurling at us, causing horrible flashbacks to elementary-school dodgeball games. Maybe that's just me. Drawlson says, "If it was just football, I'd play. I love football -- when it's pure. But this…this isn't pure." Oh, it's pure, all right. Pure nonsense. What the hell is pure football? Is that football with no coaches, where the quarterback just does whatever he feels like? Like tossing balls at people's heads? Dude, football is not a forum for personal expression. There are all sorts of problems with the way team sports are handled in this country, some of which are even addressed in this movie. But the fact that the players don't have whatever definition of freedom and independence Drawlson is bitching about is not one of them. If you want to express yourself, get a hobby. Learn to paint. Buy a damned loom. Macramé a ladder and use it to get over yourself. In other words, suck it up, Steve Largehead. GOD. Oh, but he's still talking: "If I play for Kilmer tomorrow and we win, he wins. Everyone in West Canaan will go on believing he's the best coach that ever lived. What about the team he coaches? And the one after that? What if my little brother ends up playing for him?" I'm sure your little brother will probably have killed himself in a mass ritual before that, so don't worry. "I would be buying into everything that's wrong with this town." Oh, take it down a notch, Howie Wrong. Yeah, I'm sure that if they stopped worshipping football, their economy would boom, a thriving fine-arts community would blossom, everybody would be given a free college education, and West Canaan would become the Austin. God, I don't even like football all that much, but Drawlson is turning me into Hank freakin' Hill. Jules says, "You want some cheese with that whine?" Oh, thank you, Jules. "Why don't you step up and play the hero?" Oh, I take that back. Don't encourage him! Game day. The team recites the Lord's Prayer in the locker room (sans references to faggots) as the crowd files in. Killjoy speechifies that this game is the one that matters -- for the rest of their lives. If they lose, no district championship or state title. The game starts. Drawlson uses Wendell to run the ball upfield. Wendell gets the ball to the within the ten-yard line, which triggers Killjoy's racism. He tells Drawlson to give the ball to a different runner. Wendell bitches, so Drawlson changes the play and gives the ball to Wendell, who successfully brings it in. One wrong righted. A few plays later, though, Wendell pulls a hamstring and goes down. Killjoy asks the trainer if he can fix him. They can, but only if Wendell "lets them," no doubt referring to an injection of something or other. The opposing team pulls ahead as they hit halftime. Cut to the locker room. The trainer and Killjoy have convinced Wendell to take a shot of whatever, but Drawlson interrupts them and tries to get Wendell to decline. Tweeder shows up, too. Killjoy tells them they don't know what they're talking about, but Lance limps in on crutches to tell Wendell that he knows what's going on and don't take the shot. Killjoy responds, "Are you going to listen to that from a gimp? Who's praying that we lose so he can say he was the missing link?" Oh, so now we're entering into cartoon-villain territory. And look at Drawlson's forehead. He's the only missing link around here. Billy Bob comes over and threatens to rip off Killjoy's arms and beat him to death with him if he tries to inject Wendell with drugs. I'm telling you, this movie would have been so much better from Billy Bob's point of view. I wish somebody would inject me with painkillers right now. Anyway, time for the big stand-off. Drawlson accuses the coach of caring more about the championship than the players, utterly ignoring the fact that football scholarships are probably the only way a lot of these boys are going to get into college, and that caring about winning a championship helps them. He threatens to quit if Killjoy injects Wendell. Killjoy threatens Drawlson back about Brown, but he doesn't care. Killjoy names Tweeder the quarterback, but Tweeder refuses. Sugar Bob quits too. Drawlson says, "The only way we're going back on that field is without you." Killjoy loses it and physically attacks Drawlson (finally!) and attempts to strangle him. The players pull him off. Killjoy tries to recover and orders the team out to the field, but everybody ignores him. The Guitar/Violin Duet Of The Pathetic Loser Coach plays as he attempts to get the team to follow him out the door, but they refuse. He ends up walking down the hallway alone. Drawlson gives a speech to the players, telling them to forget what the coach said earlier about the results of this game affecting the rest of their lives. He tells them to play for the now. He tells them, honestly, a lot of the same things that Killjoy does about not showing any fear. He concludes, "Let's go out and be heroes." They all cheer him. Whatever. I'm so tired. Do you want to be worshipped or not, you twit? So they run out for the second half, with Lance serving as coach. Oh look, Lance is calling that play that I said I wasn't going to bother to remember. Thank you, Big Book Of Sports Movie Clichés. And they switch to a no-huddle passing game with five receivers. Do you have to ask whether this works or not? Haven't you been paying attention? Of course it does. They get a touchdown. Wrongs righted: two, leaving Billy Bob's redemption still to go. The coyotes are still down by three with 38 seconds left. The opposing team is about to punt the ball, and Billy Bob wants to play defense and block it. So Lance puts him in. Do you think they'll block the punt? Because, you know, punts really aren't blocked all that often. Well, I bet you can answer that question. Of course they do. Daddy Bob clears a path to the kicker, and Tweeder blocks the punt. But the clock is still running. The camera lands on the opposing team's mascot, a cowboy on horseback. Can you guess what happens ? If you said, "He throws the ball at the cowboy's head," you're right (mostly -- he actually hits him in the back). Hey, you could write these movies. And of course, the guy doesn't come out and trample Drawlson to death with his horse. There is no justice. I bet you can guess what the play is going to be, too. It's their last play, and there's one wrong left for them to make right. Yes, that's right, they're going to run the play where the throw the ball to Billy Bob. Everybody cheers and prays. Now let's guess what the director is going to do. If you thought to yourself, "Show the play in slow motion, with John Williams's non-union equivalent scoring it all with some mawkish, string-heavy nonsense with a trumpet solo," then you, too, can be a hack director. I'm not even going to ask you if you thought the play would succeed, because I know you too well. Yes, it succeeds. Coyotes win. Drawlson is carried off the field. Jules greets him, and they mack. And then he turns all narrator again: "And for some of us, it ended without us knowing. Maybe these were the last days. I never played football again. But I'll never forget that day." Anyway, Lance goes on to become a football coach, Drawlson goes on to graduate from Brown University, Wendell got into some college I couldn't make out no matter how much I rewound, and Killjoy never coached again. Drawlson doesn't explain Billy Bob and Tweeder's long-term future. I'll extrapolate that Billy Bob died of heart failure, and that Tweeder was killed in an embarrassing drunken stunt involving a car battery, an adult diaper, and a gallon of olive oil, which got him a posthumous Darwin Award. Drawlson concludes, "The day was ours, and nobody can ever take it away." And nobody can take away the entire week I spent going over this film for this recap. No matter how many painkillers they offer, it will always haunt my dreams.