Taylor calls the boys in to a huddle to talk about Friday's game. "Twang twang twang, man in motion, twang, run and shoot, twang twang." Taylor tells the boys they need to do more than just contain the other team's offense, he expects them to shut it down. He's about to let them go for the day when Smash asks him to hold up: "Hey, Hall and Oates, let see if you got any magic left." Nice follow-up there, kid, sniffing out the joke that needs to be made.
Lucas, accompanied by some bad bar band guitars, strips down to a wife beater and starts throwing the ball. He connects every time to the sounds of the kids oohing and ahhing. Finally, it's Smash's turn, and he wonders whether Lucas can get it done without his theme music. He goes deep and Lucas does get it done, but only with a little help from Smash as he seems to have overthrown a tad. Mac and Shady Grady look on; the latter mutters something about Smash's good hands, and Mac decides to make a bid for Grossest Man in Dillon by responding, "Soft as a Tijuana hooker's."
Beautiful shot of a desolate spot outside town. The wind blows dust this way and that. Tyra asks Billy what he thinks about the spot. I wish while she were at it she'd ask him how he feels about how much shorter he is than her. Billy thinks it's too far out in the middle of nowhere and that nobody will come. Tyra thinks it being in the middle of nowhere makes it perfect for their party and then adds that she just talked to her sister who confirmed that she and her associates will be at the party. Tyra explains, "Every good party needs a hostess. We got ten of 'em. Ten strippers to be exact." Tyra's leaning back on the hood of her pick-up truck, and damn is she hot. Billy loosens up a bit, "I think they prefer the term 'exotic dancers'."
Just in case you were grinning and enjoying the white trashy hotness of it all, we cut to a close-up shot of a hand with some sort of brace through which a plastic fork has been hooked. Suddenly Spa-tastic No More. Back to Depressingly Realistic, and even I'm wondering why they can't get the kid a metal fork for his lunch. Anyhow, Street is having lunch with his parents. He tells them that Coach suggested he come to the game. His dad is immediately and aggressively pro this option; his mother tells him that it seems too soon (and here lets slip a detail that makes no sense continuity-wise; that it's supposedly been two months since he broke his spine). The Streets start arguing in front of a tremendously hamster-cheeked Scott Porter. Mrs. Street isn't sure about the whole "trotting him out in front of 15,000 people" part, which, coming out of her mouth, sounds a bit like she is embarrassed about her disabled son. Jason tells them to stop fighting, that he'll decide himself.