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Coach Taylor advises his daughter, "If you think a boy is thinking about you, he's not. He's thinking about sex or he's hungry." And this advice is generally borne out as: Tim beds, or more accurately, "walls" Tyra; a Rally girl confesses to Tami that she's expected to take part in "a three way" with a football player; and Matt Saracen tries to learn how to make girls want what he wants them to want. So Smash isn't the only one high on testosterone. Jason channels his rage at Lyla and Tim into a Murderball scrimmage, but then gets tired of "channeling" and just punches Tim out. Billy and Tim, in a perfect storm of bootcut jeans, plaid shirts, and daddy issues, duke it out all over the Playgirl Ranch because Tim continues to refuse to brush his hair. Okay, maybe those two aren't quite as butch as the rest of them. And I'm not exactly sure what to say about Smash except that he's yet another in a long line of men who make the difficult decision to forego steroids only to have a bunch of church ladies convince him otherwise. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Tim and Billy troll the aisles of the supermarket. Billy's on the phone having some sort of boring work-related crisis. Tim is on the HOT having some sort of hot-related hotness. Ahem. More specifically, Tim is reeling around grabbing things off of shelves, out of the meat case, et cetera, and throwing them into the shopping cart while Billy -- the father figure, get it? -- keeps trying to get him to stop. Billy finally gets off the phone, with a defeated "yes, sir" to whoever he's talking to, and Tim looks at his brother like he just knifed a baby in the street: "You're kidding me, right?" Apparently Billy has put a bag of frozen peas in the shopping cart, and Tim doesn't eat vegetables. Billy suggests to Tim that he start eating better to try and capitalize on his newfound college-level ball talents. First no beer and now peas? Tim's heart is going to explode with all the healthy blood getting pumped through it.
At the checkout counter, we find out that food costs money. This show and its sociological realism! The total comes to $96.50, and Billy starts giving items back to bring the total down a bit. He shaves about ten bucks off the total. But when Tim mindlessly slaps down a magazine (Glamour? Marie Claire? Can't quite make it out), Billy starts to lose it: "We don't have money for that!" Tyra saunters up and tells the boys to calm down, she'll buy the magazine. Tim and Tyra lock eyes, and before Tim even tells his brother to go ahead without him, you know those two'll be getting down in the rotten lettuce out back before long. Which we of course get the good fortune of seeing, Tyra's bare mini-skirted leg hitched up by Tim's groping hands, her cowboy boot dangling, guitars amped up on the soundtrack. And, if I am not mistaken, they are pressed up against the side of truck, just under the words "Ranch Meat." Tasty.
Over at the Depressingly Realistic Rehab Facility, Lyla plays a game of Manage Your Guilt by kissing Jason on various places on his chest and neck and asking him if he feels it. Jason interrupts this heartchilling moment to ask her if something happened between her and Tim. She jerks her head back and exclaims "What?! No!!" a bit too quickly before slowing down and reassuring him that she loves him. Jason takes his cue from the soundtrack that now is the time for tender crying not for angry shouting and he pulls Lyla back toward him and apologizes to her for even asking. She gets all smoochy on him again, but as she finally rests her head on his chest we see each of them looking off into their separate distances, obviously still troubled.
Uninspiring Credits. Weight room. But this time it isn't one filled with fresh-faced boys but one filled with a scary body-building lady. I should be able to handle the body-building ladies given my commitment to radical feminism but...I...just sort of...can't. Anyhow, this show gives me good reason to continue on in my looks-ist ways as this particular body-building lady is...also a VILLAIN! A villain who also won the "Strongest Woman" contest as a shot of a human interest story in local newspaper shows us. She's telling Smash that he was advised incorrectly on his steroid regimen; she talks real quick about various oxy-this methyl-that. Smash follows her out to her car, asking about how this will affect his "love life" and she tells him that he needs to get his priorities straight. Hmm. When she then tells him it'll be three hundred dollars, he gulps, "A month?" "Try a week" she retorts, and then inexplicably tells him he can get her the money later: "Yer good fer it."
Cut over to Smash trying to milk $1200 out of his poor mama. He lies that it's for an SAT prep course. She has another suggestion: "Quit chasing around those fast-tail girls and get your ass upstairs and read. How's that for your SAT prep course?" Smash keeps at it, giving a rich pitch about all the extra preparation he would get by taking one of these courses. I used to teach those courses. And, as far as I could tell, the only results they got are ulcers for the kids who were already on their way to getting ulcers. Smash keeps pleading with his mother, and it's heartbreaking because you can see her getting convinced. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be charming.
Out on the field, Taylor presides over practice in his man shorts and mouth full of gum. You know how Brad Pitt's performance in Ocean's Eleven is all about the way he endearingly snacks on snack foods, popping beer nuts into his mouth with bemusement, sipping tea with confusion, licking an ice cream cone to connote a certain silliness beneath his Sexiest Man Alive exterior? I think Kyle Chandler must have noticed this as well. Billy Riggins has come to the field in his Jeans Suit (jean jacket and jeans) to nervously ask Coach if there's anything he should be doing to take advantage of Tim's suddenly awesome football playing. Is this really how it works? One decent game when you're a senior and you can start dreaming about South Bend? In any case, Billy is quite sweet in his nervousness and secret commitment to making sure his brother has a future.
I notice as the credits roll across the screen that this episode was written by Bridget Carpenter, who also wrote for the brief-lived Luscious Man Hair fest that was Head Cases. Now I get why Billy is written to be so mad at Tim for not taking better care of his tresses! Anyone who's written for Chris O'Donnell's hair before must certainly be in a rage over how Taylor Kitsch manages his locks.
We cut over to Tami's office where she is counseling a young girl who is positively radiating crisis. Tami doesn't quite see it yet though as she natters on about getting the girl registered for the PSAT. When she finally asks the girl if she is okay, it all comes spilling out: "My Panther wants me to do a threeway." Connie Britton does a great cartoonish, gulping "Oh!" and gets up to close the door. Random Sexually-Threatened Girl continues, telling Tami that a lot of Rally girls do it, and that she really likes the boy, who has apparently told her that if she does it with him, she'll be his girlfriend. Cut from the scene holding on Tami's brightly lit, totally confused face.
Cut over to the Alamo Freeze (unfortunately, our local greasy spoon comes woefully lacking in Joe E. Tata). What's-His-Face, er, Landry is perched on the counter lecturing Matt -- again -- on the ways that he is dropping the ball in the girl court. He tells Matt that he needs to approach girls like a geometry problem, "You gotta solve for X. Solve for X." Matt corrects him: "Uh, that's actually algebra," and the snark wafts off the screen. Landry counters, "Uh, that's actually not the point," as the camera peers over his shoulder to the Taylors pulling up their car outside.
We transition into the car where Tami asks her daughter if she'd like her to help; Julie teens back to her, "No thanks. I'd like my social status to stay intact." Landry sounds the alarm inside that Julie is coming in, and there is some adorable muttering about Matt needing to fix his stupid hat. Julie comes in and Aimee Teagarden does that delivery of hers, the sort of over-enunciated, a bit too loud, awkward delivery that just seems very honestly adolescent to me. She orders burgers and fries and shakes for the family, and I would wonder how everyone in that family stays in such good shape while eating hamburgers all the time, except that, after living with the Chaos in Louisiana, skinny people with a penchant for hamburgers just seem like a Southern institution.
Matt and Julie continue making stuffed puppies fly out of my ass. As Julie hands over the money, Matt looks down and asks her if she's thought any more about what he asked her. Julie has the too-bright tone as she chirps back that she has thought about it and that she's considering it. They talk over each other and can't meet one another's eyes and now I'm having a hard time typing because the whole roster of tiny, fluffy animals from Cute Overload! has piled into my lap and is trying to kill me with preciosity.
Just in time, we cut back outside to the Adult Swim portion of the scene, where Tami is telling her husband about the girl who came to see her in her office. She has an accusing tone as she makes the connection between the culture of football and the culture of coerced sex. Coach just rubs his face tiredly. Then: "Girl's a sophomore" Tami says pointedly. Coach looks at her blankly until she gestures toward the Freeze, "Our daughter's a sophomore!" Coach Taylor doesn't take too kindly to this suggestion, telling his wife that their daughter reads Melville, and that she hates football players. I love the idea of Melville as abstinence education. Guess Coach Taylor hasn't read the "Squeezing the Sperm" chapter from Moby-Dick in a while.
Smash and his little sister walk into the Alamo Freeze. Smash jokes around a bit, but then has a brainstorm and asks Matt about his job there and then asks if Matt can get him an application.
Lyla walks up to the Riggins Playgirl Ranch. She was sure to put on her four-inch high espadrilles of emotional crisis. Tim peeks out the window and then saunters outside, taking about ten minutes to put his shirt on and never quite finishing the job. No complaints here. Lyla babywhines to Tim about how Jason "knows," but she doesn't know how he knows. Tim tells her "that's it. We're done. You called it off. As far as I'm concerned, you're J's girl and always have been." But then we see Tim start processing the information in real time; immediately after declaring that all they have to do is "move on," he realizes how useless his own advice is, and pleads "how?" Right then Tyra opens up the door and leans out, greeting Lyla. Lyla covers pretty well, stuttering that she just came over to invite Tim to a scrimmage at the rehab facility. Tyra keeps looking between Tim and Lyla, and even though she's being polite, asking about Jason and thanking Lyla for coming by, you can tell she suspects them, too. And her parting words to Lyla, "Real nice 'a ya' to come by," have a brutal continuity to them; recalling that very first time we saw what a magnificent bitch she can be when she mimics Lyla's goody-two-shoes act.
Depressingly Realistic Rehab Facility: XTREME ZONE. Apparently only Xtreme Sportz jocks get paralyzed in Dillon. Also, what are these guys all doing in the rehab facility? They're all totally healthy other than being in wheelchairs. About ten murderball dudes sit around a table shooting the shit, making their irreverant "midget" and "stumpy" jokes when Jason makes them all go quiet by asking Herc if he's informed the rest of the fellas that Jason'll be participating in the scrimmage on Thursday. The camera shows us Gay Phil's editorial eye-rolling as he sits off to the side, presumably making sure no one starts popping ollies off the card table. Phil blurts out that Jason isn't ready for the game. Jason asks him "What's the worse that can happen? Fall out of my wheelchair, break my neck...oh, wait, that already happened." This gets big laughs from the Paralyzed Peanut Gallery.
Phil presents a number of scenarios to remind Jason that he isn't Captain Wheelchair: he could tear his rotator cuff, get a concussion, or, worst of all, could damage his "fusion" -- basically break the little bits of bone that are starting to fuse around his spinal injury, which would result in his losing his ability to use his hands and fingers, an ability he's lucky to have already. Remember what I said about hating to think about spines? Fusion?. Shudder. While Gay Phil is giving his speech, the camera pans around the table to show us that these Mountain Dew guys have grown rather long in the face. They much prefer talking about Dog Town. So when Phil ends his speech, Stumpy and Herc jostle them back up: "C'mon Phil, don't you know we're cripples? Don't kick a guy when he's down! Cap'n Bringdown!" and the boyz follow suit, hooting and teasing until Gay Phil gets up and leaves the room.
Outside school, Tami runs to catch up with Lyla and the two woman walk breastly -- um, I mean, "briskly" -- along the path. Tami just wants to ask Lyla to give a message to her mother when Lyla turns to her and bursts into tears. We cut to the two women sitting underneath the soaring concrete football stadium. Lyla's told Tami about her fling with Riggins. Tami asks her if it is totally over, and Lyla swears it is. And I believe her, because their dalliance was a narrative dead end. Tami asks her if she can offer some advice (excellent counseling move number one) and then continues to tell Lyla that Jason Street has been hurt as bad as he can be right now and that Lyla should not hurt him any more. "Do not tell him, Lyla." Really good advice, I think. It seems Tami sees that Lyla really needs to detach from her host body if she ever wants to have a fulfilling life. As a parasitic worm? I don't know where that metaphor was going.
Taylor household, the Wholesome Threesome are getting dinner on the table. Coach asks Julie what her week looks like and she chirps along about a girlfriend's birthday and cupcakes before "Aaaand Matt Saracen asked me out on a date." Her parents go slackjawed. Coach Taylor manages to stutter out a question about what she said to him. Julie demurs, "I'm considering it."
The Peach Pit, er, Alamo Freeze. Matt is trying to teach Smash how to work, but it isn't really working. Smash looks at himself in the reflection of an aluminum tub while Matt natters on about consistency in the product. An old lady-looking "hottie" comes in, and Smash oozes toward her as she orders a scoop of mocha ice cream. He tells her, "Nah, that's not what you want," and then tells her she wants a chocolate-covered something or other instead. She breaks into a wide smile: "Well, alright, if you say so!" I don't buy it for a second. Being convinced by a smooth talker into having sex is one thing; being convinced to order a different ice cream treat than you were jonesing for is another.
Smash continues Barry White-ing all over this girl, leaning close and telling her in a quiet voice, "It's on me," after instructing Matt to get the lady her treat. She giggles off to wait for her Girls With Low Self Esteem Sundae. Smash goes over to Matt and says "See, that's what you do," to which Matt responds, "No, that's what you do." Smash "Take Back the Night...For Rapists!" Williams declares, "You don't ask them what they want. You tell them what they want." Matt watches Smash go over to talk to Oldy McBoob, and we fade out. Please note, the African American Sonic Forcefield is in full effect due to Smash's presence at Da Freeze.
Tami walks into Julie's room pretending to bring her some clean clothes. Julie's on the bed, and her room is refreshingly not pink, but reds and yellows. Cuteness. Tami asks her how Faulkner is, and Julie responds, "Good." I wish she had said, "a drunk genius obsessed with bloodlines." Tami lies down to her daughter, and hot damn I hope to be such a sexy mama should the time come. Julie sees right through her mom's "innocent" questions about the possibly-impending date: "You're freaking out." Tami swears she isn't and tells her daughter that she just knows what goes on at that school, and just wants to make sure...Julie interrupts her, "I haven't even said yes yet," and Tami kneejerks, "Good!" before second guessing that parental tactic. "I mean, 'oh,'" and then she looks off into the distance, totally at a loss.
At the Alamo Snooze, Matt counts the till in the back while Smash tells him his football nickname should be "the accountant." Matt is upset that he keeps coming up a dollar ten short. Smash chuckles at his zealous accounting, but then pauses to peer greedily at all the money Matt has in his hands. Cut outside to Smash getting in his car, popping some 'roids in his mouth and then narrowing his eyes...in slow motion. Love it. So cheesy.
Depressingly Realistic Rehab Facility: Xtreme Zone. Jason and Herc race around the hallways, Herc right on Jason's tail. They're heading up a zig-zag of ramps until they reach a pair of doors at the top. Jason, breathing heavily, tells Herc not to feel bad, that he was all-conference last year. Herc segues into discussing whether or not Jason should play on Thursday. He mentions that everybody is against it: him, Phil, the doctor, "even your cute little cheater." Ouch. Jason's jaw tightens and he insists that she didn't cheat. He tries to wheel himself back down the ramp, but Herc maneuvers his own chair in front of him at every turn. Herc lectures, "She is messin' with you, and you are lettin' her!" Jason wonders why Herc wants him to break up with Lyla so badly. Herc, Wheelchair Philosopher, hits the nail on the head, "You think as long as you hold on to that girlfriend you had when you could walk, you can avoid the reality of being one of us." Jason chipmunks at Herc with his curled-in upper lip and then tries to bully past him, but ends up ramming into him and tossing them both out of their wheelchairs onto the ground. They're both out of breath as they lay stomach down on the cold, institutional floor. Jason confesses to Herc that Lyla is all he's got; Herc responds, "Just cuz we're crippled, doesn't mean we have to take the crumbs." Or the secondhand private parts, either, I guess. Since Herc consistently gives such good advice, Jason asks him what the secret is to getting back into their wheelchairs. Herc, dryly: "Call Phil." The two of them chuckle and roll onto their backs, screaming for Phil to come help them back up.
At the Riggins Playgirl Ranch, Billy is having another vague business-related fight on the phone. This time, he ends by telling the guy on the other end of the line to go to hell and hangs up; Tim: "Fired again, huh?" He then suggests his brother try selling weed again. Billy grabs the sandwich out of Tim's hand and throws it onto the plate, reminding him they've got dinner in fifteen minutes. He says he's tired of being the man around the house, and then proves that he's also the woman of the house by instructing his little brother to "comb your hair, wash your hands, put on a clean shirt and for god's sake, run a comb through your hair for once in your life!" week on Friday Night Lights: Billy teaches Timmy how to ease the pain of those time-of-the-month cramps.
At the Taylors', Tami is clanging around in the kitchen when Coach comes home. "I hope you remembered the ice cream" she says, and he responds, "That's what you sent me out for. How could I forget it?" He can tell she's wound up about something else and finally gets it out of her that she's worried over Julie and Matt Saracen. She says "We both know how these football players like to use these girls and throw them away." Coach tells her to stop lumping all the football players together like that, but when she turns to him and says she knows she can't do anything about how the boys are, but that it would make her feel good if he would promise to have a talk with their daughter. He agrees, the doorbell rings, and as they both walk toward the door, Tami trilling toward Julie's room "Julie get off the phooone!" he punctuates with a manly "Now!" and then asks his wife, "How was that?" Heh.
Tami opens the door to the Riggins boys. Billy comes in and hands her a hostess gift of a set of jenky knives in a flimsy cardboard and plastic box. Oh for the love of Martha Stewart, boy.
Alamo Snooze. Smash lounges behind the counter while Matt works. A girl walks in and Smash tells Matt that it's his turn. Matt stutters and asks Smash to "do it one more time," but Smash makes him take the girl's order. When she orders a hamburger and root beer, Matt stutters some more, "Naw, I...I don't...think you...really want that." He's the John Wayne Gacy to Smash's Smooth Criminal. She looks at him quizzically and plays right into his hands, "I don't? Then what do you want me to have?" I'm frankly a little confused with how in stride these girls in Dillon take having their fast food orders challenged. Cute Overload Mode as Matt stutters to the girl that he actually doesn't know what he wants her to want. But he thinks fast, just like on the football field, "Well you said you like root beer, and I make a mean rootbeer float!" He feels he's really hit upon a logical solution to his serious flirtation problem and starts beaming at her, as she coos and hmmms in the background. Through a huge, toothy grin, Matt manages to say, "Or a sundae. With jimmies!" She reveals herself to be a huge meanie as she responds, "Tempting! But I'm going to stick with the burger and plain root beer." Are we still talking about lunch here, or is the topic something both a little more and a little less alimentary?
Matt turns to Smash to judge his performance. Smash tells him he did okay, "No shame in your game," and then awkwardly segues, "Look on the bright side, at least it's payday." Matt breaks it to him that he probably won't get paid until the end of the month what with payroll and paperwork and all. Smash freaks out; Matt tries to placate him.
At the Taylors', Billy holds dinner conversation court, telling a suspenseful story about a game he played in high school, running the ball to the end zone to the roar of the crowd, only to realize that he was running to the wrong end zone. Tim sips his water with boredom. Julie tries to make eye contact with her peer, but he isn't interested in girls who aren't interested in doing it up against crates of rotten lettuce. Billy takes a sip of wine and says, "Mm, this is nice." The camera swings around, and I think it's pretty clear that there's a bottle of Two Buck Chuck on the table. Billy breaches the main subject, "Coach, you think he's got a shot at college ball?" Taylor says he does if he keeps playing the way he did the other night.
Tami asks if their parents live in Dillon, and Billy exposits that their father is in Corpus Christi working on a driving range. Because they don't have golf in Dillon? Tim interjects, "He's a real hard worker" and Billy retorts, "Yeah, shagging golf balls for a living, it's a...real important work." Tim naively clarifies, "What I meant was, he sends checks." Billy is at his wit's end with this boy and his untucked shirts, "That'd be twice. Two checks in six years." Awkward silence. Coach asks what Billy is up to these days and Billy blabs on about how he's looking into real estate. In the midst of the blabbing, Tim reaches across the table and knocks over a glass. Billy jumps up and hollers "Damn it, Tim!" and then pats his bouffant and adjusts his cat eye glasses. Cool down, there, grandma.
In the Depressingly Realistic Rehab Facility: Xtreme Zone, Coach Taylor sits in a wheelchair to Jason in the middle of a big fieldhouse. They shoot the breeze, Coach telling him about having the Riggins boys over for dinner last night. Taylor remarks that their parents did a number on them, but Jason doesn't have any sympathy: "Yeah, well, everyone's got a sad story." Explosions in the Sky starts up on the soundtrack as Jason instructs Coach Taylor to try to get past him in his wheelchair and then skillfully rams his wheelchair into Coach's at every turn. Coach chuckles and keeps trying; Jason starts talking about how nobody thinks he's ready to play this game on Thursday. Coach asks him what he thinks, and Jason goes into some mumbo jumbo about wanting to be able to compete in something again. He second-guesses himself, we get a long shot of the two men in their chairs in the midst of the court. Taylor takes his cue from the crescendo on the soundtrack to get inspirational. He tells Jason that he wasn't ready to be a father sixteen years ago. That you can't prepare for some things. He says "No seventeen-year-old should have to go through what you are going through. You're dealing with it. You're doing what you're supposed to do. You're being a man about it. Go with your heart." Kyle Chandler, you are confusing me. I don't know whether I want to make out with you, or have you take me to the Father-Daughter Dance. This is not okay.
Smash punches his time card for the night when he notices the till set out on the desk in the back. He goes over and starts rifling through it when Matt comes into the back. Smash quickly pretends that he was just counting the money -- "It's all there" -- and runs out to the parking lot. Matt follows him and tells Smash that he vouched for him, and that if he took any money, Matt'll lose his job, too. Matt says he thought Smash was his friend. Aw. (Dork). Smash pauses and then blurts that he had a bad game, he had a bad week. Matt's like "so what?" and asks what Smash needs the money for anyway. Smash tells Matt that he thought he needed the money, but now he sees things more clearly he realizes he doesn't. Gaius Charles is playing this straight; he does such a good job switching between Smash the Persona and Smash the Person.
Over at the Taylor household, Julie and Coach play ping pong in the garage. Another perfectly art-directed set. This show is spoiling my eyes. Julie is in a super-cute 3/4 sleeve sweat shirt and non-matching pajama pants. Taylor asks his daughter about her dating situation. She demurs. He says aloud he figures she doesn't think it's any of his business. She demurs again, knocking the ping pong ball up on top of the raised garage door roof, and the sound of that ping pong ball bouncing across the raised door and then falling on the driveway pavement recalls a hundred summer nights for me. Taylor grabs the ball and leans forward on the table: "Alright, listen. I'm supposed to give you some fatherly and wise advice in this time of your life. Listen up. If you're wondering if a boy's thinking about you, he's not. He's thinking about sex or he's hungry." Julie giggles and asks her dad if he's trying to be funny, but Taylor keeps plowing through, going on to tell her boys will lie, they will leave her waiting around for their calls, they will be cruel, and they will be misleading. Julie, meanwhile, has sort of lowered her eyes in knowing disobedience. I wonder if Taylor will ever find out just how often sixteen-year-old girls think about sex. Selective memory: A parent's best friend.
When Julie, her mouth set in an attitude of defensive bemusement, asks her father if they are done with their talk, Coach Taylor looks directly at her and says, "You are beautiful, you are sensitive, and you are sweet, and I just don't want to see you get hurt." Tears! But really, Kyle Chandler, pick one. Be my boyfriend or be my daddy, please stop trying to be both.
Playgirl Ranch. Midday. Billy swigs beer, Tim comes home and dumps his duffel bag on the floor. Billy yells at him to dump it in his own room and so the manly plaid-shirted sniping begins. Billy low-blows Tim about the possibility of not graduating high school, about not having anyone to support him. He suggests to Tim that maybe Tyra can support him. Because, of course, a female breadwinner would certainly be unacceptable. Tim low-blows back at Billy about how his brother is trying to get "second helpings from [his] girl." Billy moves on to reminding Tim that he's "banging his cripple best friend's girl," and Tim doesn't really have a comeback with nearly as much heft. "How's that real estate license coming?" just doesn't have the same soap operatic quality. Billy tells his brother all he sees in Tim's future is "another forty pounds and delinquent child support. Remind you of anyone?" Tim wants to know what Billy's problem with their father is. Billy snaps and gets in his brother's face, asks him when was the last time he heard from either their mom or dad, shouts that he's the one who pays the bills and goes to Tim's games, because nobody else wants him. Tim, towering over his older brother, darts his eyes around in mute distress before tackling his brother. They roll around, break shit, spill popcorn, all while a life-size cut-out of some blonde model in a bikini smiles behind them. It's quite visually weird. Billy gets Tim up against the wall, while Tim spits at him, "You were never a good football player." Billy spits that he knows this, that Tim has so much more talent than he ever had, and that's why he can't take standing by and watching him throw it all away. Tim shoves Billy to the ground -- he takes the TV smashing to the ground with him -- and walks out, "You're not my father. I'd be better off alone."
Depressingly Realistic Rehab Facility: Xtreme Zone. Murderball scrimmage. Lots of wheeling around and speeding around and tossing and crashing and "oomphing." Lyla and Tim watch from the bleachers. Hooting and hollering until Jason eats floor after a hard hit. Everyone goes silent, but Jason gets set upright by some nurses and the game resumes. More crashing and wheeling and speeding and tossing and "oomphing." Jason starts playing well, everyone is happy, including me, because this is far easier to recap than all that talking they do throughout the rest of the episode.
Taylor household. One might wonder why Coach Taylor wasn't at the dangerous game he advised his severely hurt mentee to play in. Tami relaxes on the couch in front of the TV, asks her husband if he spoke to Julie. Taylor responds, "Contrary to popular opinion, I am very good at communicating with the womenfolk." Tami doesn't buy it, "Sweetheart, that is ridiculous." Taylor assures her that Julie got his message just as his daughter walks in and announces to them both that she is going to go on a date with Matt Saracen. She walks out of the room, Tami looks at her husband askance while Coach just rubs his head, his hair being speechless for once.
Bible study over at the African American church. Smash sits to his mother, vaguely mouthing along to "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." The pastor starts out with some special prayers, one of which is for "a young leader in our community." Smash's face goes slack. The pastor continues, asking his parishioners to support this young man who hopes to be "a scholar-athlete" and then asks them to contribute money to help him do so. Smash's mother glances at her son with a thankful smile on her face and a tear falling down her face. Smash looks like he's just stolen money from the offering plate. Which, uh, he has.
Jason gets kudos from his fellow Xtreme Wheelchairz dudez. Tim and Lyla walk up all innocent-like, Tim smiling, "That is the Six I know. Man, I'm telling you, those hits? I gotta take some notes." He kneels down in front of his friend when Jason just hauls off and punches him in the face. Lyla tries to intervene, but Jason tells her to back off. Tim walks off as Jason yells after him, "You can steal a cripple's girl but you can't fight a cripple? You're a coward Riggins! Always have been!" Tim breaks into a trot to get away from the paralyzed soothsayer. Lyla approaches Jason, who just looks at her, his chipmunk upper lip really curled in and feral, and tells her to leave. She turns and runs off too, and this show really moves at a nice clip, huh? Nine episodes in and we've already broken off the central, sappy romance. Only took Dawson's Creek a few years to see this arc to its conclusion.
Playgirl Ranch. The house is still a huge mess. Tim walks in, Billy at the stove. Billy looks at his brother and sees he has a black eye. When Tim tells Billy that Jason did it to him, Billy takes the high road, hands his brother the hated pack of frozen peas, and then gives him half of the grilled cheese sandwich he made for himself. Meanwhile, Iron and Wine has decided to participate in this show's evil Pavlovian musical-dramatic experiments. They are successful.
Smash, enabled by his church-going ways, walks into the gym and hands the scary lady a wad of cash. They go into a back room and she closes the door to our sight. Now this is some solid evidence I could have used when I was a teen trying to get out of going to church on Sundays. Mom, Dad! Church makes you a 'roid head!