Guess what -- Bill still sucks at sports. I don't know why Coach "Biff" Fredricks even bothers to look frustrated by that fact. You'd think he would have come to terms with it long ago. Martin Starr does some excellent physical comedy with Bill's basketball playing. At least, I hope it's acting. No one could actually be as uncoordinated as Bill, could they?
Over in the lunchroom, the freaks are rhapsodizing about The Who. Nick says that seeing them in concert blew his "mind." Ken can't wait to hit their concert in Detroit. He says he hopes his ears start bleeding. Well, I'd be happy to lend him my red-hot knitting needles if he wants to poke out his own eardrums at the concert. I certainly won't be needing them, since it's not like I'd be caught dead anywhere near the show. Nick hopes that Lindsay will be allowed to attend, though, since he wants to sing her a song he wrote to tell her about his feelings. Good God, Nick, is that really necessary? Now I'm having flashbacks to that painful "Lady" incident. Ken points out that Nick doesn't know how to play the guitar. Nick proves him wrong by showcasing the two chords he does know in a spirited rendition of "Michael, Row the Boat Ashore." He must be a little more confused (okay, stoned) than usual, because he claims this is a song he wrote for Daniel and Ken. He doesn't get very far into it, though, because Mr. Kowchevski walks up and says, "Hey, hey, Coco, this isn't the cafeteria from Fame. Uncle, uncle." In case you don't remember who Coco was, let Daniel refresh your memory: "She's the hot chick who took her shirt off in the movie." Okay, thanks for the info, Daniel.
Over at the Haverchuck abode, Bill is picking out slices of individually wrapped processed cheese food from the fridge. I'm happy to report that he doesn't just chow down on them, but makes a grilled cheese sandwich instead. He eats his lonely snack in front of the TV, watching a young Garry Shandling doing some stand-up. Shandling makes him laugh pretty hard, which is unfortunate, since it allows us to see far too much of the half-chewed dinner residing in Bill's mouth. His mom, Gloria, comes home from a bad day at her waitressing job, moaning about how little she made in tips. This causes Bill to worry that she might go back to "dancing," but she says that no one would want to see "an old broad" like her dance, anyway. Bill is embarrassed by that. It gets worse, though. Gloria tells him that they will be having a dinner guest. Bill hopefully asks whether it will be his father. Poor Bill's pathetic eagerness is heartbreaking, as is his disapproval of his mother's "friends." This is one of the best scenes on the show, ever -- and, believe me, that's saying something. Gloria tells Bill that her new friend is someone he knows. Bill asks if the friend is Neal's dad, the notorious philanderer. Gloria sounds like a twelve-year-old as she giggles and calls Mr. Schweiber "gross." It turns out that Gloria's friend is none other than Coach Fredricks, which is probably about the worst news Bill could receive. Gloria makes an effort to sell Biff as a great guy, but Bill's not buying it. When he finds out that Gloria thinks the relationship is serious, he insists that she must dump Biff. There's a knock at the front door. Golly, I sure do wonder who that could be.