The next day, Coach shows up at Vince's apartment building, and Vince is of course immediately suspicious. Coach is undeterred and asks Vince if he wants to be QB. Because QB comes with a lot of responsibility. Decisions and leadership and what not. "A quarterback have got to be clear on what's got to be done," he says. "You've got to make a decision." Ahh, so we've taken a detour into metaphor, then, have we? Vince gets defensive and asks Coach why he seems to care so much. Isn't Vince just another interchangeable part in Coach's football machine? Would he even come by if Vince got hurt and couldn't play anymore. Jason Street could probably answer that question, but it's a fair one anyway. "This is my life," Vince says. He's lived here 10 years and seen three of his friends killed. "When I leave your practice, I'm the one looking over my shoulder hoping I don't get jumped, robbed, killed." Is this all a little boilerplate Boyz N the Hood? Sure. But a) truth is truth, and b) the way Michael B. Jordan delivers this, with a mix personal horror and fucked-up pride is really interesting. Nobody wants to bury three best friends. But at least it gives him a trump card with Coach. Eric stands his ground, though, and plays a trump of his own: One more run-in with the cops and he's going to Juvie. "Who puts food on the table then? Who pays the bills? Who's gonna take care of that if you're locked up." Vince looks down. That is some expert paying forward of maternal guilt, Coach Taylor. "I'm offering you everything I've got," Coach tells him. "This is not just about football." Vince walks away without giving an answer, and Coach begs him to think about what he just said.
West Dillon. Glenn is in the auditorium, testing the audio and practicing for the Academic Smackdown. Tami shows up and asks him how things are going. He tries to avoid even looking at her. Which is unnecessary -- the mere lack of effusive praise for her (admittedly awesome) hair is enough to telegraph that he's uncomfortable. "How are you feeling today?" Tami asks, a bit more pointedly. Glenn starts apologizing profusely, saying he feels like the world's biggest idiot. Tami says it's okay, but Glenn stresses that it is not. He goes on to say that he practically RAPED her with his MOUTH, which is both gross and hilarious, and Tammy seems to think so too. Glenn's having a crisis, though. How could he -- "Mister Liberal" (which: OF COURSE) -- do something so "Neanderthal, unevolved, caveman"? Tami tells him to take it easy on himself -- he planned such a nice evening for everyone, and they all had such a good time. "That last part...can't ever happen again, that's all." Seriously, does she have a handbook? "5001 Perfect Approaches to Interpersonal Conflict: Gesture and Tone Edition"?