Welcome to the series premiere of One Tree Hill. I'll ask that your seat backs are fully upright, and that the snack comes complete with heaping tablespoons of sarcasm. Let's hope this is like riding a bicycle; it's been a while since I cracked my knuckles and wrote a recap.
One Tree Hill begins. We hear a basketball bouncing on pavement, its familiar echo hollow against the black screen. The music starts up and we see Chad Michael Murray, a.k.a. Lucas Scott, bouncing his basketball across an old, small-town bridge. He's wearing a grey hoodie. He looks like a cross between Eminem and Rocky. We'll call this look The Reminem. Cut to Hilarie Burton, a.k.a. Peyton Sawyer, driving her vintage car with its spicy red steering wheel on the back roads of said small town. It's dark. She's listening to loud music and bobbing her head up and down. Whatever, Peyton, we know you don't really like punk music, so don't even try to fake it.
Cut to The Whitey Durham Field House. There are lots of kids milling about in a high school gym. The varsity b-ball team warms up with some practice shots. It's all net from where I'm sitting. Well, apart from "he's got game," that about exhausted my sports commentary.
Cut back to Lucas still bouncing, still brooding, and still wearing his hoodie with the hood up.
Inside the gym, James Lafferty, a.k.a. Nathan Scott, attempts a three-pointer. From the bleachers, his father, Dan Scott, says, "Nathan. Remember, twenty shots, no less." My guess is that basketball dads are Tree Hill's version of the Canadian hockey dad. The rare breed of man who lives vicariously through his son, putting pressure on him to become the next Wayne Gretzky, never missing a game and almost coming to blows with the notoriously bad calls the local ref is sure to make. Games consist of screaming at their kids from the cold arena benches, berating them for making the wrong pass or missing the chance to score, and essentially teaching their kids that life is all about winning and not just playing the game. From that one sentence, I'm poised to make a judgment call about Dan Scott -- he's over-involved in his kid's life when it comes to this sport. As Nathan makes his practice shot, Coach Durham walks by and says, "Quit yanking and warm up." Nathan smiles. Coach gives a knowing look to Dan, and they share one hefty moment of past glory. Right -- not only is Dan Scott obsessed with his son's basketball career, but he's also a former player on the varsity team himself. Now, he's a car salesman -- how's that for broken dreams?