Taylor house. Tami is in the kitchen, Coach is standing up with the clicker in his hand. I love that he's doing that. The time I spend standing in front of the TV, all "I'm not actually watching unless I'm sitting" would rival the amount of time Tim spends putting blush on in the mornings all "I'm not putting blush on, I'm just hiding the pallor of my alcohol abuse." Julie comes in morosely. Coach gives her a falsely bright greeting and then fake whines back at his whiney daughter. He tells her to sit down, and she sighs and does a dramatic full-body eye roll. Coach tells her "Don't, don't roll your eyes," and then tells her that she is going to get punished more once he and Tami figure out what that punishment is going to be.
Julie pretty much blows enough air out of her lungs to fill the Astrodome and then peels herself off the couch while telling her father that she'll be in her bedroom once they figure it out. She tries to walk by her father, but he insists, "Don't be flippant with me. Don't be flippant with me," and then demands that his little delayed teenager look him in the eyes. Though it takes a Herculean effort, she does so, and Coach pleads with her: "Please don't do this. Don't break our trust, don't take our trust from us." Pause. "Please." Father of the year! He has broken her spirit like she's a rebellious Appaloosa. She sort of mucklemouths, "Sorrytodaybeenjustareallycrappyday," and you can see Tami softening from Angry Mama to Poor Baby!Mama. As she disappears down the hallway to her room, Julie mutters about Matt yelling at her all day "about stupid quarterback stuff." Kyle Chandler literally does a "zoinks!" doubletake. Blink! Blink! "Matt Saracen's got you at quarterback?" then tosses the clicker down and runs down the hallway saying "Wait, hunny!" Tami just smiles to herself, and I'm looking about my lonely house wondering where my own family is. This show is going to engender it's own miniature baby boom come a year from now.
Tim walks into the Alamo Freeze where the African-American sonic forcefield is in full effect. Smash says "What up, Dutch Boy?" which is an utterance of considerable beautiful hilariousness and then asks "You get a new hat?" Tim responds with considerably less verbal acumen, "That a new hat?" You need to go to trash talkin' school, Whitey. Tim says he's been thinking and that all the friction is not helping the team with State coming up. Smash agrees, but when Tim suggests that "you talk to your boys and settle 'em down so we can focus on the game," Smash calls bullshit. Smash tells Tim he's got a lot of nerve, since he's the same guy who shows up drunk to workouts, walks off practice, and tosses beer bottles at other people's heads. Smash says that "they ain't even my boys," and then suggests that Tim talk to hisboys, and clarifies in case you didn't get it: "This football done brought us together but on the real? We ain't even cool like that." Nice contrast between how easy it is to be "cool" with another individual (Matt) but so difficult to make it cool between groups.