In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close. Tonight was the night of a thousand subplots. We open on the Panthers losing the game they started last week, and launch right into a melodramatic tangle of temptation, heartbreak, seedy motel deals, parental interference, and it all culminates in a Sturm und Drang rainy downpour extended remix, the whole football team dragged out to a field at 3 AM in the rain and forced to run wind sprints by a had-it-up-to-here Coach Taylor. It's awesome.
Taylor is tempted to cross over to the dark side by Nasty Sweaty Buddy Garrity, who's located a Katrina "refugee" ringer quarterback to sneakily add to the Panther roster; Tyra and Riggs break up; Lyla's mom tries to get her daughter to stop hanging around the hospital all the time; Lyla won't listen to her mom's cynical yet ultimately right-minded advice until Street throws her out of his hospital room, unable to stand her chirpy denial any longer; Lyla goes ahead and stumbles right out of that hospital room and onto Riggs's lips. I know. That part wasn't so awesome. Except it sort of was, seeing Lyla hide her misdeed from Street the day. All a woman needs to make her a little bit interesting, it seems, is a secret, and now Lyla's got one. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
We open on the game that left a football hanging in the air last week. Cut to Jason Street watching the game from his hospital room, football awkwardly grasped between his wrists. His mother sits to him, and when the announcers on the television start talking about his injury, she asks if he's sure he wants to watch. He sort of snaps, "Leave it."
Out on the field, the Panthers are bathed in glossy game night light. Matt timidly calls a play in the huddle, and as the announcers blather on about how "tonight it's all about the ground game," Saracen takes the snap, fakes a hand-off to Smash, and peddles back for a pass. He lets the ball fly just before getting pounded by the opposing defense. The ball spirals through the air right into "Dolia's" arms, who takes it and runs as the score swells, and the crowd cheers and it seems real, real good, until....Dolia gets tackled, fumbles the ball, and the defense recovers it.
Cut to the locker room, where Coach Taylor rips into the boys. He's sweating and spitting and telling the kids they "oughta be beatin' these bums by forty points!" Aw. "Bums." Cut back out to the field where the Panthers continue to get drilled by the enormous-looking Rattlers. Cut back into the locker room, Taylor screams at Riggins, telling him he's getting his ass handed to him. Back out on the field, Smash loses yardage. Back in the locker room, Taylor screams at Smash, telling him to quit dancing out there unless he's going to the prom. When Smash tries to explain (or make excuses for himself, depending on how you see it), Taylor comes over and just spits all over the place, his neck veins popping and locking in fury. Back out on the field, fifteen seconds left, Nasty Sweaty Buddy Garrity yells from the stands, "C'mon, coach, run the football now!" The Panthers are third and goal, on the nine yard line. The announcers continue learning us viewers some football (thanks, guys!), expositing that the Panthers have just about self-destructed on the field. Matt takes the snap and drops back, then scrambles, running the ball toward the end zone. The score swells (again), the crowd cheers (again), and it looks real, real good (again) until...he gets tackled right at the goal line. A few seconds of suspense -- Coach Taylor stands pensive amidst the prematurely-celebrating players on the sidelines -- and the refs say Saracen came up short. No win.
Locker room. Taylor spits out a "Saracen!" and the boy looks up from the ground, blood dripping down his face to hear Taylor say "Good game." Taylor stalks around the room, "But not good enough. Not nearly good enough." And then we cut to Jason Street lying in his hospital bed. The camera pulls back, and we see that he can see the football field off in the distance from his hospital room. Oh. Now come ON.
Uninspiring credits. At the Shabby Swinging '70s Riggins Bachelor Ranch, Billy hits "golf" (really, ping pong) balls while laying into Riggs. He tells his brother that none of this football stuff is rocket science; all he has to do is "beat the living crap out of the other guys, then go get yourself some tail." Riggs reaches back to grab a beer off the console behind the couch. It appears there is a bong on that console to the beer, but don't quote me on it because NBC is doing some annoying flashing advertisement on the bottom of the screen that blocks it. Oh, and also because I wouldn't know what a bong looked like if I did see one (hi, mom!). Riggs is watchin' fishin' on the TV. I wonder if he ever feels conflicted when he wakes up. Like, "What should I do today? Work on my blush application? Or adjust my balls and watch BassMasters?"
A knock at the door. Billy must be telepathic (in addition to being an even worse guardian than Bessie Potter), because before he even glances out the window he says, "Speaking of pieces of tail..." and then after he peeks out the window, "Lyla Garrity." Riggs sits up anxiously and draws his hand across his neck in the universal symbol for "Not now, I don't have my 'face' on." Billy opens the door and exaggeratedly tells Lyla that Tim is not home. Tim sinks into the couch behind Billy. Lyla knows what's up, so she tells Billy to tell Tim that she's going to the hospital. She turns up the volume, making sure Tim can hear her from the couch, going on about how Jason has been asking for him, and reminding him that she goes to the hospital every day, and he can come whenever he wants.
Outside Matt Saracen's house, Matt kneels in front of his team sign, upon which "LOSER" has been scrawled in spray paint. Matt's trying to wash the spray-painted insult away, while Landry is pacing around, jabbering on about "theories." Matt tiredly asks his friend to help, because he doesn't want his grandmother to see the sign that way. But Landry keeps on, wondering aloud why Dillon lost to South Milbank last night when they hadn't lost to them in twenty years. Landry quickly assures Matt that the reason they lost wasn't because of him and says he thinks it's the supernatural, maybe an old lady witch. Matt looks at Landry and says, "You're retarded." Matt reminds Landry that half the time his grandmother can't even remember how to work the telephone. Grandma comes out the front door -- looking a bit more put together than usual in jeans and a flannel shirt -- and tells Matt to go out back to "water the children." Matt asks, "You mean the flowers?" and she's like, yeah that's what I said, moron. As she goes back inside, a beat up old Nissan accelerates past Matt's house, and a bunch of jabronis scream "Loser!" at Matt. Jabronis.
Coach Taylor and Julie walk into the fast food joint having an unbelievably lively conversation when it comes to dads and fifteen-year-old daughters. Julie is like a freaky little sprite, chirping about getting a dog and then calling out to the counter, "Onion rings! And a spicy chicken sandwich for Mom!" Julie sort of flumps over to a seat while her dad charms the counter girl with his ordering. A big old guy in an Hawaiian shirt and gross goatee asks Julie, "You're Eric Taylor's girl, right?" This isn't going to end well. Not with a Hawaiian shirt. A man in a Hawaiian shirt is a man who clearly just does not give a fuck. Julie answers in the affirmative and then Hawaii Five-O asks her if they've started packing yet. She shoots a glance at her dad, who walks over and leans in to ask the man if there's a problem. Hawaii Five-O tells him he was simply informing Julie of what happens when a coach pisses a season away with dumb-ass plays. Julie looks on with furrowed brows. You go girl! Furrowing like a Taylor! Kyle Chandler is, again, awesome in this scene. He's got neat dad jeans on, a green polo tucked neatly into them, and friendly hair that started the night just being all, "Hamburgers are on me!" -- so when he leans in and starts speaking through his teeth at this jerk, you know it's serious. He clenches that he's at this restaurant with his fifteen-year-old daughter, and so he's just going to walk away. Then he says to the jerk, "But that's real nice, I sure do appreciate it" and his sarcasm is right on point. He gathers his daughter and they leave, Taylor instructing his daughter, "do not listen to that," as Hawaii Five-O flashes his -- wait for it -- high school state championship ring at Taylor and tells him he'll never win one of those. Taylor gives him an open-palmed wave through the glass of the restaurant that turns into a little punch in the air as he walks out of the frame.
Commercials. On the football field, the boys are running relays as Coach Taylor yells about the big guys they'll be playing at the end of the week. He shouts that they have to be faster, because they are not bigger. Smash sort of slows down and doesn't complete his sprint, then saunters over to Taylor to instruct the coach that the boys have been talking and they all think they need to practice some hand-offs to give Matt some practice -- that Matt is the weak link, the problem. Taylor listens impassively until Smash's bravado peters out, then informs everyone that he was going to let them out early, but after Smash's speech, he thinks they should run five more. Smash protests, and Coach Taylor quickly ups it to ten, to which Smash protests even more only to have Taylor top him with, "How 'bout fifteen? Wanna see how high I can count? I can count real high!" Smash finally gives in and the boys start running more.
In the stands, Nasty Sweaty Buddy Garrity sits around sweating and nastying. The African American "coach" from the first episode shows up to him, and N.S.B.G. greets him as "Mr. Deets" and then starts talking about a football player from "Looz-iana," a "Katrina victim" who's in Texas now, name of "Ray Tatom." Mr. Deets asks, incredulously, "Voodoo Tatom?" and Nasty Sweaty asks if he knows him. Mr. Deets knows of him and when Nasty Sweaty buck-tooths a bit about he and Mr. Deets just sort of easing over to an old lot in Marlsboro to check him out -- like he's a horse up for sale -- Mr. Deets hesitates and responds, "Yes, sir." Sometimes I just can't believe the economy of gesture in this show; like how much is contained in that "sir."
Lyla's in her room fiddling with a necklace in front of her requisite Popular Girl High School Photo Collage. Her mom comes in, and Lyla worries that they have to get to the pancake supper, because "without anyone there to tell them what to do, the girls'll just fool around." Honey, it isn't cancer research you're heading up here. Her mom tells her to slow down and then asks what Lyla wants to do for her birthday tomorrow. Lyla tells her that she's having dinner with Jason at the hospital. Her mom sighs and tries to broach the subject gently, wondering if Lyla should be spending so much time at the hospital -- girlish youth and grim death and all that. Okay, maybe she doesn't point that out to her daughter, but still...Lyla counters to her mom, "Well you'd do it for dad, wouldn't you?" And I must pause for a moment to observe how subtly this family is drawn. Like, at first glance, they're not that bad, maybe a bit shallow, not big on education, definitely unthinkingly privileged, but not all that different from millions of families living on the upper class side of whatever community they live in. But then thinking back to that "sir" that Buddy Garrity commands, and I shudder at what truly rotten badness is at the core of this privilege.
Mrs. Garrity responds that "Well, he's my husband, Lyla" which Lyla sort of brightly counters with "Well, I'm marrying Jason some day!" Oh, lord. I can't think of too many things worse than when teenaged girls think of themselves in this prematurely aged fashion, all doodling "Mrs. Jason Street" on their notebooks. Do you know how much fun is in store for you in your twenties? Don't marry yourself off so early, honey. Lyla's mother suggests that she talk with someone about it. Lyla continues to omit her consonants, which I believe is becoming some sort of larger metaphor for the things in her life that she simply does not get.
Pancake supper. Mmmm. Not too many things better than breakfast for dinner, in my book. Willie Nelson plays; the restaurant is packed with young and old enjoying the delicious sweet/salty combination of maple syrup and bacon. Julie and a girlfriend are grossed out by how sloppily some of the boys eat. Julie suggests they "go get a turkey burger." Together with her earlier declaration that three hamburgers for her father would be "too much dead cow," she's got a Miniature Rebellion going on. If she lived on one of the coasts, she'd be a full-on vegan, but in this town, eschewing a hamburger once in a while is like burning a flag while watching Battleship Potemkin. As Julie leaves, she runs into Matt, who offers her his soy sausage. Yes, you read that correctly. She says no thanks and then offers him her pancakes. Kids these days. Sometimes you don't know what they're talking about with their "soy sausages" and "pancakes."
Lady Mayor chews pancakes, in addition to scenery, while she talks with Tami about her new job as a guidance counselor, making sure to mention that the last counselor killed herself with pills. Tami just double-takes, "I'm sorry?" Meanwhile, Nasty Sweaty Buddy Garrity says the same shit he always says to Coach Taylor, this time urging Taylor to "move on this Katrina kid." When Taylor interrupts to say "I just hope this thing is on the up and up," N.S.B.G. tells him he'll handle it, and that all he wants from Taylor is that he look at the tapes.
Tyra "I'm Not Some Piece of Trash" Collette, sashays through the pancake dinner wearing -- what else? -- an eight-inch long mini-skirt and backless sparkly top. She runs into Smash, who she's totally taller than, who tries to sweet-talk her a little bit. Palicki is giving great BitchFace in this scene. She asks where Tim is, and Smash tells her he's probably passed out cold somewhere.
Cut to Tim, who is merely on his way to passing out, downing cans of beer and then hitting the empties into a windswept gorge with a golf club. The grasses rustle, and the light is grey-blue. Tyra rolls up in her pick-up truck, parking to Tim's pick-up truck. Aw, kissing pick-up trucks! Tyra greets the "dumb ass" with a smile and wonders if he thinks she's just going to go away. Tim responds by saying, well, yes, exactly, "but you don't seem to want to get the message." Hurtful. Tyra's face falls, and she lashes out, telling Tim that he thinks he's such a tough guy, but he can't even go see Jason in the hospital. She tells him to grow a set. He takes a swig of beer, and she turns to get back in her truck. He calls after her, asking how Smash was. She can't meet his eyes when she tells him nothing really happened, but then it occurs to her that he's standing in a glass house himself. "Don't pretend like you haven't slept with half the rally girls." Tim responds by observing, "We sure do have something special here, Tyra." Ouch.
She gives as good as she gets, though, as she tells Tim that he's "just another mediocre football player who's going to grow up to drink himself to death." Ah, a clue! I do hope they're keeping an effed-up mom in their back pockets for this character, some floozy who'll come around and embarrass everyone by getting drunk at high society -- wait, that's another show. When Tyra threatens that if she gets in the truck, she'll never come back, Tim sort of just grunts in reply, and then clarifies with disgust, "I get it, Tyra." She can't believe that they're "breakin' up for real and that's all you say? That's great." (I love how inarticulate these teens are. "Breakin' up for real." Aww.) She pauses for a moment in her truck to compose herself, and then looks back at Tim with the look of a little wounded fox; he's just gone back to hitting beer cans like nothing ever happened.
Commercials. The coaches and coordinators are gathered, eating popcorn and watching the Voodoo tapes. It becomes clear that the assistant coach saw the tape already at Buddy's house during a barbecue. Taylor's like "I didn't know y'all were such good friends."
And we have contact, people! We're in an actual high school hallway! Though I suspect that somebody doesn't want us to realize this, as this scene is shot in way-overzealous handheld style. Tim's Rally Girl comes up to give him his paper on East of Eden, in which she made sure to misspell lots of words so it looked like he did it. Spell-check should make this joke obsolete, but alas, I am here to tell you that even students attending a school that costs six figures a year do not know how to use spell-check, so this is less inaccurate than you might hope. Rally Girl adds, "I heard you broke up with Tyra!" rather expectantly, and Tim grunts, "I guess that's true," before shouldering past the bland blonde only to get chased down by the bland brunette. Lyla -- re-ponytailed, and so de-sexualized according to Rule 46B -- runs to catch up with Tim to tell him about a prayer meeting they're having later for Jason. Tim shakes his head and asks, "What are we praying for, Lyla? A new spine for Jay?" She crumples in front of him, and he walks off. Lyla gathers herself together to call after him, "I know you don't do anything you don't want to do, and I guess that's fine. But don't insult me." He looks at her intently, and we can tell it's brewing. He can see past that ponytail, man, and what he sees is a proud, passionate woman looking to be let out. Rrawr!
Commercials. The Garritys sit in the kitchen and discuss Lyla's refusal to come to terms with Jason's injury. Lyla listens from the balcony upstairs. That's the problem with these rich folks homes. All that open space and open floor plan means you can't bad mouth your own daughter in privacy. Lyla's mom begs Buddy for some help, points out that he finds time to make an eighty-mile drive for the football team, but can't find time for his daughter. Lyla's mom continues, saying Lyla's living in a fantasy land -- cut to Lyla cringing at that -- that she isn't thinking about college or her own future, that she put her eggs in one basket and that they let her do it. Buddy tells his wife to chill out, that "she'll get bored, she'll move on." Ugh. That is one cynical reading of how your own flesh and blood will react to a tragedy. Get bored of dealing with it. DIE BUDDY GARRITY, DIE!
At the Taylor household, Tami sits being hot hot hot, and Julie watches TV. Taylor rummages around the kitchen for dinner, while Tami asks him about this Katrina quarterback stuff. Tami tells Taylor that Matt's really stressed out about all of it, and Taylor, hat pushed back off his forehead like "Sheesh, woman, I ain't got time for this," wonders whether he should go over Matt's house and make him some Ovaltine and read him a bedtime story. Julie gets up to go to her room, saying "Bye, Daddy!" and then mouthing something at her mom, like she knows this is going to be a fight. Tami asks her husband to not be so sarcastic, and Coach clenches -- this is the week of the clench, not the furrow -- "I think everyone in this damn town is telling me to do my job and I think the one thing these kids don't need is compassion and I think..." and so on. Tami just nods and "yeps" her husband like she's seen this before until the TV catches her eye. It's Smash, and he's on the news badmouthing Coach Taylor. Taylor picks up the phone and calls "Mac" -- who I now gather is Assistant Coach Dubby -- and tells him to get the team together and meet him at the fieldhouse in a half hour.
Yes! I love it when a plan comes together! Cut to a full-on awesome A-Team montage of the players getting the calls -- coming out of their bedrooms in their boxers (Matt, aw!), lifting weights (Riggs), eating hamburgers (some dude) -- and then finally Smash in his house commanding his little sister to answer a knock at the door, only to find Coach Taylor marching into his house, a mouth full of gum (that can only mean one thing: business!), and telling Smash to be ready in two minutes. The boys file onto a school bus to pensive music just as a huge thunderstorm opens up.
They pull the school bus up to a hill, in front of which is a stream bed full of water from the downpour, and Coach Taylor yells out, "Wind sprints! Up and down the hill! Let's go, let's go!" and the boys reluctantly start running through the rain. Taylor takes this opportunity -- in the rain and with a backing track of ponderous guitars -- to give one hell of a speech: "You think you're champions because you wear the Panther uniform, you're wrong! You think you're champions because they give you a piece of pie at the diner, you're wrong!" The boys run and slog, and Taylor keeps screaming about champions, telling them that champions don't complain or give up, that champions "give 200%!" Up from 110% earlier in the episode, and the soundtrack understands the import of this statistic as the ponderous guitars shift into full-on INSPIRATIONAL guitars at Taylor's 200% figure. Everybody is yelling at the boys, who are just scrambling and huffing, their physical performance not pretty or admirable. They file back around Coach Taylor; we cut to one kid vomiting into the stream around his ankles. Mac suggests to Taylor that the kids have had enough, but Taylor says that HE will say when they've had enough, and then we cut away to all the main boys' faces -- Matt, Riggs, Smash -- mouths open in exhaustion, and then to Taylor's face, his lips pressed so tightly together it looks like his jaw has imploded. Taylor stares at Smash and Smash stares at Taylor until the boy realizes that he has got to SACK UP, and it takes all his strength to overcome his own cockiness but he does it. Quietly at first: "Clear eyes, full hearts -- " and Matt Saracen is the only one who responds, hoarsely, "Can't lose." And then Smash, again, a little louder, and this time the team, weakly: "Can't lose." And then again, and again, and again, until the inspirational guitars tell the kids to go! go! go! and they take off up the hill again, bumping into Coach Taylor as they run. He nods almost imperceptibly in satisfaction. These boys, they need this coach. This scene is so unbelievably cheesy and great; I can't believe this show can do both the groundbreaking stuff -- exploring racism and disability with small, beautiful gestures -- and the majestically cheesy stuff like an inspirational team-building scene in the rain.
Commercials. In the grey, depressing hospital, Lyla packs up depressing tupperware while Jason asks her how depressing, exactly, she found her birthday. She swears it was exactly what she wanted, and that year, when he's better, they'll go to dinner. The problem with Lyla is that she can't get it through her head that, indeed, they could go to dinner year, but it wouldn't exactly be "when he's better." They'd go to dinner, and he'd be in a wheelchair, and that's the way it would be. Jason scoffs at her -- FINALLY -- "Huh. When I'm better." Lyla gets in Jason's face and tells him that all this is just a hiccup, that in one year he'll be back on track, he'll go to Notre Dame, blah blah blah, until Jason literally shouts at her: "STOP!" She looks like a dumb, hurt, puppy. Jason tells her his legs won't ever be better. She looks like a confused, dumb, hurt puppy. She starts talking about cases again. He tells her that those cases are not him, that he can't even use his hands right now, and then demands, "How can you not see that? What the hell is wrong with you?" The million dollar question, my friend. He tells her that every night he dreams he can walk, which means that every morning he has to accept his paralysis all over again, and when she comes visiting all happy and chirpy like nothing is wrong, it kills him. He says that it's all over, that they aren't getting married, and then he asks her to do something for him: "Get out." And then when she continues her dumb, confused, hurt, yelpy puppy dog thing, he shouts "GET OUT." Wow. She turns her back and proudly tells him that she'll be back tomorrow and then leaves.
Back out at Guantanamo, the players' spirits have been broken and they file docilely back onto the bus. U.S.A! U.S.A.! Coach Taylor stops Riggs and tells him in no uncertain terms that what happened to Jason was an accident. Riggs chokes up as he finally says what he's been thinking for three episodes, "I didn't even try --" and Coach reiterates, "It is not your fault. I want you to let yourself off the hook." Riggs says "Yes, sir" a few times and then heads toward the bus when Coach grabs his shirt and tells him that Riggs owes him a practice, so he can just walk home and they'll call it even. Heh. Riggs looks disbelievingly at Taylor as the latter gets on the bus, the rain still pouring down. Poor, wet puppy dog. I'll give you a good home. Woof! The bus pulls away and Pearl Jam starts up on the soundtrack and we transition...
To Lyla driving home in her fancy little mini-SUV and noticing Riggs walking along the side of the road. She pulls over and asks if he wants a ride. He responds by asking if it isn't past her bedtime and then continues walking along. She accelerates past him, puts the car in park and hops out, and perhaps if you were deaf you wouldn't know exactly what was about to happen, but if you aren't deaf and you can hear that Eddie Vedder angst on the soundtrack, then you know there are going to be some teens flailing and screaming and feeling misunderstood, so misunderstood that they just might fall accidentally onto one anothers lips. Or so my experiences with Eddie Vedder indicate is the likely outcome of Boy+Girl+90s Hangover Rock equation.
Lyla asks Riggs if he's drunk and Riggs heartbreakingly answers, "Soon enough, Lyla, soon enough." Lyla really starts letting it fly, furrowing her brow and yelling at Riggs, "You can walk! You can walk on your own two feet to go get another glass of beer if that's what you want!" The idea of Riggs pouring the beer from the tall boy into a glass is totally hilarious. This girl needs to go to Bad Boy School to learn the ways of the wily. Minka Kelly's Marlee Matlin speech patterns are even more bizarre as she is delivering all of these lines through clenched teeth. She breaks down and demands of Riggs, "What is wrong with you?" and then hauls off and slaps him across the face. Holy Alexis Morell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan! She continues hitting Riggs in the chest, and he backs up as she unloads, "Why won't you go see him? Why won't you help me?" Taylor Kitsch is nailing this scene, realizing that Lyla isn't quite the goody-two-shoes he thought she was, he finally grabs her arms and stops her flailing as she moans and rocks and cries out into the dark, dark Eddie Vedder night, "HE'S NEVER GONNA WALK AGAIN BOO HOO HOO HOO!" Riggs pulls her in close and they hug, nuzzling into one another's necks until Lyla starts moving her face across Riggs's face and, well, HOLD ON JUST A MINUTE -- her hair is in a ponytail! Make-out violation!
Eddie Vedder takes us over to the Taylors as Coach crawls into bed with his wife, and then into the day as the nurses dress and prepare Jason to leave the hospital. And again I have to remark about the fact that we are fully watching a teen drama that centers on a paralyzed eighteen-year-old body. Mrs. Street takes down Lyla's dumb banner and wonders where she is. I'm not sure. Perhaps sharing lipstick with Riggs? Jason is put into his wheelchair just as Lyla comes in somewhat sheepishly with -- ding, ding, ding, ding! -- hair down and sexy according to Rule 46B. She hugs the Streets hello and then leans down to greet Jason, who apologizes for yelling at her and asks her to pretend like none of it ever happened. She agrees and kisses him and then stands up and looks around, all secrets and lies. Jason gets wheeled out of the room, football clasped between his wrists once again, as he banters with the nurses, and pal, that golden boy shit just ain't gonna cut it now that Lyla's gotten a taste of the dark, dark, Eddie Vedder night.
Football field, an idyllic practice set to Explosions in the Sky, everyone giving 200%, the team a well-oiled machine. Mac remarks, "Never underestimate the power of a good spanking," and everyone is happy with the way things are in the House of I Hit You Because I Love You. That is, until Nasty Sweaty walks onto the field followed by Voodoo. The team stops to gawk, and Nasty Sweaty good ol' boys, "We got ourselves a quarterback, Coach!" Taylor pauses to do some "Fair is foul, foul is fair" reflection, before extending his hand in welcome and sending the kid off to get suited up. Matt Saracen looks on in trepidation and the camera does a swooping low pan across the field towards Voodoo -- who we know is an interesting guy if only for choosing Coach's inspirational speech over a new Escalade -- who looms and looks around him rather gloomily. Cut to black.