So, Matt is basically throwing the football like a boob and the coaches are yelling at him. He's waiting way too long to release the ball, and he's throwing interceptions directly at linebackers he says he doesn't see, even though, as the assistant coach screams in his face, "He's bigger'n my front door!" Through all this Coach Taylor has his Man Sunglasses on again, and lordy lordy, is it really happening? So, now I'm saying I actually like a man in Oakleys (or whatever you call 'em)? Okay, so now I'm, what? A Hee-Hawing, cross-dressing, Applebee's-going mix-up? Mmmm, Applebee's. No, totally kidding. Chili's is way better.
Coach Taylor is rapid-firing plays at Matt, all "something something get the gun, got that" and Matt -- what do they say in Texas, "Bless his heart?" -- reaches back to last week and murmurs, "Okay I gotta work on readin' the coverage," before Taylor interrupts him and tells him to "Hit 'em on the breaks! Hit 'em! On! The breaks!" Hut! Matt fumbles the snap and Coach calls him back over. Kyle Chandler is doing some awesome jaw-clenching in this scene, like he called up my mom and got some coaching on how to deliver lines when you are so fed up with the kid you're talking to, you're lucky you aren't levitating above the earth on the wings of your anger. He tells Saracen that he needs to work harder, that he needs to learn the plays, that he needs to know them so well that his children will know them in their DNA. Cut to a wide-angle shot of Kyle Chandler in man-shorts (hee!) (sorry, something about men in shorts, wearing sneakers and socks makes me titter) (hee!) (sorry, the word "titter" makes me titter, too) and Matt against the spectacular green field and blue sky.
Later that evening -- still light out, the days still long in (presumably) August -- Coach Taylor sits in a recliner, drained and sweaty. This seems to me to be a totally different family room set for the Taylor clan. Tami calls out from outside the frame, "Okay, I'm goin'!" and then we widen the shot to see Tami looking damn hot in a frilly teal top and snug jeans. Julie's on the couch in braids and tries once more to advise her mother against going to the book club meeting, "They're going to turn you into a pod." Tami knows it's going to suck but says she'll just go once, show them her "literary prowess" -- and on saying this makes really cute strongman arms -- and then slips a book in her big-ass leather purse. Then, the one-second pause allows me to see that her book is titled "Letters to Cornelius," which leads me on a crazy-making Google journey where I find out that this obviously fabricated book is a reference to either Pliny the Younger or Albert Einstein, and now I need to lie down because, though I may be working on my doctorate, shit if I can make heads or tails of that prop's bizarro reference. ["Sounds like a dig at Mitch Albom, but I couldn't swear to that." -- Sars]