Coach knocks on a door, and a young African-American girl answers. Coach is looking for Dallas (Tinker, that is), and wonders if the girl, his sister, knows where he is. She doesn't but she tells Coach to check out Carroll Park, "he hangs there all the time."
Vince is in a shirt and tie filling out an application form at a diner. He gets to the "Have you ever been arrested?" question, leans back for a moment, and then screws up his mouth and checks "Yes."
Becky, voice shaking, is on the phone in a pink, pink bathroom. She says she's sure they get this a lot, but she's wondering how accurate their tests really are, "like they can be wrong, right?" Cut down to her hand gripping a pregnancy test. The customer service person apparently just tells her to take the test again, but then we cut to the counter where there are four other tests, all showing a positive "+" sign. Something about Becky using the 800 number they provide really makes me sad; like she's reaching out to whatever kind of authority she can, hoping someone more powerful than her will undo this.
Back at the diner, Vince gets the brush-off from the manager. She tells him that they're not ready to make a decision and will keep his application on file. Vince reminds her that she told him they'd have an interview, but she says there's nothing open right now, and she'll call him if something opens up. His face is hardened and he turns on his heel and leaves, obviously realizing why her attitude has changed.
Coach pulls up to Carroll Park at night. Rap plays (African-American Sonic Forcefield is in effect), the park is full of black kids hanging out, smoking, leaning, holding paper-bagged forties, playing dice. Coach goes up to three guys who look at him somewhat angrily and asks them if they might know where Dallas Tinker is. One of the guys busts out laughing, "Tinkerwho? Tinkerbell?!" Coach asks them to tell Tinker that his coach is looking for him, and one of the other guys looks Coach up and down, "What do we look like some damn messenger to you, Coach?" Before Coach gets a chance to answer, shots ring out and kids go running and screaming away. A cop car (apparently activated by the mere sound of gunshots) instantaneously comes siren-ing up to the scene, the policemen going over to a young kid lying on the asphalt holding his shoulder and grimacing. Coach watches. And, just, sigh. What to do about these kinds of scenes? I mentioned in the recaplet that Coach takes a wrong turn into The Blind Side, but this scene isn't nearly as egregious as that film is. It's just that it's unfortunate that popular media has to bring the viewer to these "ooo scary" places full of "oooo scary" black kids via a "universal" figure like Coach Taylor in order to open our eyes to injustice and all that jazz. I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes the worst racism is full of good intentions. Like, go ask Harriet Beecher Stowe about that.