Friday Night Lights: Leave No One Behind (Episode 214)

Oh, my God, y'all. There's only one more episode after this! I can't believe it. I don't want it to be over! I'm so upset I feel like skipping school and getting drunk. Oh, wait, I don't go to school anymore; my idea of playing hooky is staying up late to watch Las Vegas and pouring another glass of chardonnay. I'm a wreck this week, in case you couldn't tell. I watched the episode with a pen in one hand and a Kleenex in the other. Before we even got to the opening credits I was a snotty mess over Matt cutting up Grandma's toast just the way she likes it, and it only went downhill from there.

"IT'S NICE TO HAVE TEENAGE GIRLS ACTUALLY LISTEN TO ME FOR A CHANGE" -- The Dillon Panthers are on a winning streak, thanks to the strong leadership of Tyra 'Trouble' Collette…yeah, the football program's in a downward spiral, but the women's volleyball team keeps putting up 'W's. Coaching obviously agrees with "Mrs. T." It also seems like it's been really good for Trouble, who's finally found something she can do with that long body of hers while she's vertical. More bonding ensues, leading to, you guessed it, more discontent on the part of Julie. *facepalm* Even Eric notices; he tells Tami he thinks Julie's feeling pretty sensitive about the whole volleyball thing. Tami rightly rebuts that her daughter's pretty sensitive about everything, which is a nicer way to put it than I would have. Now, I'll give Julie a pass for the afternoon that Tami invites her winning girls over to her house for an ice cream sundae victory party, completely forgetting that she was supposed to take Julie to the DMV for her driving test. That had to suck. But Julie's OTT reaction kills most of my sympathy, and the one who comes out smelling like a rose is Tami, who drops everything, drives Julie down to the DMV and persuades the clerk to open up the office and give Julie her test, even though it's the end of the day. Tami and Bug watch Julie drive off, and Tami has a 'my baby's growing up' moment that I imagine resonates with every mama watching the show. *sigh* She's so damn good.

"ARE YOU A FRIEND? OR ARE YOU COMPETITION?" - Maybe spiking that volleyball repeatedly has shaken something loose in Trouble; she seems to be seeing a lot of things more clearly now, including the fact that she had a great, smart, loving fish on the end of her line and she cut him loose. Of course, it's not until someone else snags him that she realizes that, but okay, I can roll with it. Jean, she of the mini-dreads and smart-girl glasses, comes up to Trouble, gazing up at her over about a foot difference in height, and declares her intentions with regard to Landry. She likes him, she wants him, and she wants Trouble's permission to go for it. See, I told you she was smart; she figured that out right quick, didn't she? So when Jean does a full-court press on Landry, bringing out the big guns of MST 3000 on YouTube, he goes happily along, quite willing to try to romance Jean with Jaws at the Alamo Draft House. But Trouble has a change of heart. She talks to both Tami and Double about the situation, looking for advice on whether she should compete with another girl for a guy. She approaches Landry and Jean in the parking lot of the Draft House while they're on their date and asks to speak to Landry alone. She tells him she likes him, and she wants to "give it a shot." Oh, brother. Landry, being the good guy that he is (we're just pretending the whole Massive Fuckup never happened; hey, if the show can do it, so can I!), reminds her that he's on a date, and that, well, he's on a date. As Trouble goes back to her truck, Jean comes up to Landry and just lays one on him. "There you go," said My Ever-Patient Mister. "Claim your territory."

Try as she will, perfect though she may be for Landry, Jean's not Trouble, and in the end, that's who Landry wants. Some small part of me can't help but note that Jean, cute as she is, isn't exactly a "living goddess" like Trouble, and I hope Landry's not doing to Jean what Trouble did to him. Landry breaks up with Jean in the parking lot of the diner without even getting out of his SUV. That's a little cold, dude. She says tearfully, "You're making a mistake." I'm all ready to hate on Landry for breaking poor Jean's heart, but then he drives out to Trouble's house and when she opens the door, *wham* he kisses her, and oh! Oh! The look on her face, y'all, and the look on his face. *sigh*They've grown a lot, these two, since the Massive Fuckup. I want them to be good for each other; I want them to be happy. I feel bad for Jean (and I feel bad for everybody once Coppa Clarke finds out his edict has been revoked), but it's hard to feel bad for Landry or Trouble when you see their hearts shining right out there on their faces. "She's the love of his life!" says My Hopelessly Romantic Mister.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? YOU LOOK LIKE HELL" -- Oh, Matt, baby, sweetheart. You poor thing. My friend JaC calls a week like this being "nibbled to death by ducks." Only in Matty's case, it's more like being gnawed by piranhas down to the bone. Everything's gone wrong: Smash has been suspended, effectively killing the Panthers' chance to get to the playoffs; Carlotta screwed him and then screwed him, leaving him and Grandma in a lurch. To add insult to injury, the car he bought on Lauren's recommendation dies on him, leaving him stranded in the middle of nowhere. Add into that some lingering resentment over Julie dumping his ass earlier in the season and his dad still being gone, and it all turns into a steaming shitpile of misery for our favorite QB1. How does he take it, by withdrawing to a corner to lick his wounds? By stoically continuing as he always has? Nope. He loses his shit. Bigtime. He skips practice, which doesn't please Coach T, since the team's already lost Smash to the suspsension and "Lance" to Jesse Plemons' real life knee injury. Even worse, Matt mouths off to his art teacher, sniping at the futility of drawing stupid vases with stupid flowers, then calls her a bitch under his breath. You probably heard my shocked inhalation from coast to coast. When she says, "Excuse me?" he repeats it, louder, while I cover my mouth in horror.

From there, Matt cuts class to go look at a motorcycle (the side-of-the-road "dealership" has a life-size inflatable Panther player for decoration) and while he's straddling the out-of-his-league crotch rocket, who drives up? Tim Riggins, the poster child for Boys Gone Astray. In an episode like this we need a little comic relief, and somehow, in the midst of a not-really-very-funny storyline, Tim makes me grin like a loon. "QB1, skipping school again," he drawls. Matt mumbles that yesterday kind of turned into today and asks what Tim's doing. "I always skip Wednesdays," Tim says. Hee. Then he tells Matt he's thinking about hitting the museum, yoga, maybe the library for a little bit…or maybe just "the uszhe"…and invites Matt to go out for a beer. Cut to some bar somewhere, where Matt proceeds to get toasted off his cute little behind on pitchers of beer. Watching him, Tim asks Matt if he wants a funnel. You make that line up, Kitsch? You're good. When Tim asks if Matt's planning to come back to practice, Matt says no because he's "not done being dumped." He tells Tim that Carlotta left a note on his pillow like "the break-up fairy." Aww! And heee! Then he tells Tim he wants to be more like him because he gets all the girls and keeps an even keel, no matter what. Oh, no, Matty, that's not good. You know I love Tim Riggins like Tyler Hansbrough loves 360 dunks, but if Tim's your role model, you are one fucked-up kid.

It turns out the bar also has a restaurant, where Lyla and Christian come every day for lunch. Ah….the choice of watering holes suddenly becomes crystal clear. Wow, Timmy, way to be a dog with a bone on that Lyla thing. Tim approaches their table, wrangling an introduction to Christian. Tim tells him he's got "great hair" and basically makes an ass of himself. He tells Lyla she looks great, then that they both look great. He pauses, then says they look great…together. It's true. They do. Tim seems to come to the same realization. He leaves abruptly, tossing a "See you, Garrity" over his shoulder as he tells Matt they're going to practice. He shovels Matt toward the door, telling him to chug some water and eat Corn Nuts to cover the smell of alcohol on his breath. I'm sure Corn Nuts appreciates the plug.

If you think that was bad, wait until you see The Dynamic Duo at The Landing Strip, mixing lemon drops with beer and getting lapdances from Toil's friends. As an aside, I'll say it's nice to see the bit players still playing their bits; I love the continuity of having Double and Toil pop up now and then. Somehow, Tim, Matt, Toil and her scarlet-clad bosom buddy make The Strip seem relatively innocent. How did they do that? Tawdry, yes. Dangerous and unseemly? Well, frankly, not so much. They make it look like good clean fun, right up until Matt finally figures out that the vibration in his crotch is his cellphone, not an incipient boner, and we learn that Grandma fell getting out of bed. She hit her head, and is at the hospital. Bosom Buddy drives Matt to the hospital, which is the kind of thing FNL does that makes me cry like a baby and grin at the same time. I almost give Matt a bonus point for not driving while intoxicated, but then remember he doesn't have a car! He apparently passes out in the ER waiting room, because next thing we know, the EMTs have called Coach Taylor to come get both Grandma and Matt. Taylor keeps his cool while dealing with Grandma, who seems delighted, as always, to see him. As he gets her settled back at home, she offers to make him a sandwich, then, in a moment of lucidity, says, "I'm glad you came by, because I think Matthew needs your help." Dang it, I get choked up again just typing the words. I love you, Grandma!

Coach T takes Matt by the scruff of the neck, drags him bodily to the bathroom, throws him in the tub and turns the shower on, drenching him. He starts to lay into Matt about respect and the team and Grandma and everything else, but Matt's had it up to here and yells right back at him: "You left me for a better job! Your daughter left me for a better guy! Carlotta left me for Guatemala and my dad left for a war. Everybody leaves me!" he says, bawling. "What's wrong with me?" I'm crying, My Mister's choked up, and Coach Taylor looks like he got hit in the stomach. He looks down at Matt for a minute, then says quietly, "There's nothing wrong with you." Oh, Coach. Oh, Matt. Oh, my boys.

"IT'S ABOUT ADVERSITY, AND HOW WE STAND UP TO IT" -- Wow, you said it, Coach T. Things are about as bad for Smash as they are for Matt. The regular season suspension is bad, but the news from TMU is worse: in the wake of the incident and the board's suspension, TMU is revoking Smash's scholarship due to "questionable character." Smash takes it hard, as you can imagine. It's not just about him -- we've always known that Smash feels it's his family's future, too. Smashmama is her usual loving self when he comes and shows her the letter. She doesn't say, "I told you so." Instead, she says, "I love you. I believe in you."

This all happened because Smash chose to use his fists instead of the many, many words that always come out of his mouth; he made a dumb mistake. Mistake compounding on mistake, leading to an unfortunate response to provocation. And then his mouth ran away from him again, and again he made an impetuous response -- this time verbal -- and the punishment is astronomically out of proportion to the crime, in my opinion. But this is the same kid who, last season, took $1200 from the collection plate at church,  used it to buy steroids and basically got off scot-free. He's made errors in judgment before, but never had to pay this big a price. He's a kid, he's flawed, and he's living his life in a fishbowl. I feel for him.

On the day of the big game, Smash comes to the locker room in his street clothes. He seems to appreciate the team stepping up for him, begging Coach T to let him play, but Taylor rightly says he can't go against the board's decision. Smash gives them the pre-game peptalk, telling them, "This might be the last place I ever play." Then he encourages them to win, to just get to the playoffs, and then he can come back and lead them to State.

From the previews for next week's final pre-strike episode, it looks like some new storylines break, so this extended locker room scene feels like a love letter to the fans who've been there since the pilot. I'm getting lots of echoes -- from the quick cuts to our favorite players (including Santiago this time!) to Smash leading the team in a heartfelt "Clear eyes, full hearts" and the team responding, "Can't lose!" to the camera lingering on the 'P' above the door as player after player taps it on the way out to the field. On one hand, you can see a state championship ring. Of course, by this time, I'm a ball of rags, my pen shaking as I jot down things like "my boys have grown up!" and "I could NOT love them more!" When the team's gone and Smash is left standing alone in the empty locker room, and he finally allows himself to break down, I'm right there with him. It hits me -- hard -- that this could be it. We bought our second season with fannish devotion and critical love. What will the strike mean for a potential third season? What will cutting off the season before we get to the playoffs mean? I don't have any difficulty imagining life in Dillon going on; in my head if nowhere else. But I'd really love to be there with them watching it unfold. I hope we'll get that opportunity.

See you next week. I'll have my Kleenex box standing by.

PS: I promised Pretty Lily a Gratuitous Tim Pic:

Gratuitous Tim Pic (Muscle Shirt of *Thud* edition)