Becky's dad loads up his truck to head out on the road for a couple of weeks, and we got a lot more exposition about how her mom is out of town working on a casino boat (ha!) and for the time being, Becky has to stay at home with her step-mom and step-sister. Becky is not happy about this. The step-mom, Dorreen, comes out with a baby on her hip declaring "Packed you Lunchables, Red Bull, Nicorette." If that's not one of those Hemingway six-word stories, I don't know what is. They engage in some gross making out, and then Becky's dad comes right over to her and kisses her on the cheek with that same nasty step-mom trench mouth. Becky practically shudders and her father drives off.
Billy pitches himself to Coach, he's played the game a long time, it's in his blood. Coach points out that there's a big difference between playing and coaching and Billy leans forward and tells him that this isn't about the money, though that will help, but about how he respects Coach, that Coach is a "molder of men" (as Tami once put it), and how, now that he's a father, Billy thinks it'd be really good to be around someone like Coach right now. Damn, Coach Taylor, what an exhausting job. Cleaning up after other men's poor fathering. But Coach does the right thing (as always) and gives Billy a shot.
Crucifictorious! One last practice in Landry's garage. Devin is there, being super cute still, Jimmy the drummer is "being a little flashy" (as Landry calls it), trying to spin his drumsticks. We learn that they've got a big show ("The Last Waltz") on for Thursday night, the night before Landry leaves for college. Devin and Jimmy seem a little reluctant, seemingly only to give Landry the chance to be overly enthusiastic about how this is going to be a historic rock show for Dillon, one that their grandchildren will talk about. "Shit, Jimmy, you might even get laid."
Buddy and Coach lurk around the basketball courts of East Dillon. Buddy tells Coach that Vince is a great quarterback, but he needs someone to throw to. He points Coach's attention to a kid who's dominating on the court, driving the ball and dunking and shit. "It's the white kid," Buddy notes, which makes me chuckle. The kid's name is Hastings Ruckle. Coach: "Ruckle? What the hell kind of name is that?" Buddy: "It's Welsh." Cut to Buddy and Coach alone with Hastings, grilling him on his basketball stats. Hastings gives them a talking-to about football. He doesn't like it, with its "bunch of 'roided-out freaks trying to hit me. Football's stupid." And here we wish Coach wasn't wearing his hat, because you KNOW his hair would get all "Oh, ho, ho, ho, hold up now." Hastings continues "Football celebrates the worst instincts in American culture. Rushing, violence..." and Coach can't take it anymore, "Naw, naw, what football celebrates is teamwork and character." But Hastings still isn't convinced. He doesn't like all the equipment, the pads and cups-- Coach guffaws, "We don't wear cups in football." Coach gets to the heart of the matter, "Where are you from anyway?" and Hastings tells him, from all over. His family has moved a lot for work. And here's the rub. What's been the problem with why this show hasn't ever had the audience it deserves. People don't know how to access the Texas in them. And let me tell you, if you DON'T have Texas in you (I sure as hell do, NYC-living be damned, I was born in Houston, holla!), well we are sorry for you. Coach informs Hastings, "Well, you live in Texas now. You love football, you just don't know it yet." Damn straight, Coach Taylor!