musesandlyrics | 3.13. Friday Night Lights quote
3.13. "Every man at somepoint in his life is going to loose a battle. He's going to fight and he's going to loose. But what makes him a man, is that in the midst of that battle, he does not loose himself."
Friday Night Lights
"Did Billy Riggins adopt you when I wasn't looking?"
It was only when the voice broke through his mess of thoughts that Jason realised he was no longer sitting at the table in the bar alone. He did a slight double take when he found Coach Taylor sitting beside him, a red cap resting on the table in front of him. It was weird seeing Coach in red. Jason didn't think he would ever get used to it. "Hey, Coach," he said flatly, blinking a couple of times as he tried to replay Coach's comment in his mind and figure out what he was implying. Jason's head wasn't exactly the best functioning organ right now, though. In fact, as a quad and without his head working, there was very little of him left he could label as working soundly. He looked at the almost-spent beer bottle in front of him with a straw stuck in it, and it was a fair observation on Coach's part. "Uh... no. Just hanging out too much with Tim, I guess."
Coach's lips formed a thin line in thought as he analysed his ex-star Quarterback for a few moments. He made a small non-committal noise in response, using the pause to try and figure out how best to tackle this conversation. "I could really use a good assistant coach to help me pull these boys in line, Jason. Are you up for the challenge?" If going straight to the point didn't work, he would find another tactic. He and Tami had quite the discussion about Jason Street and Tim Riggins over breakfast this morning and before Coach realised, he was agreeing with his wife that he should try and talk to both boys. ASAP. The car accident involving the MacKenzie and Jameson girls had been big news in Dillon at the time, but once the chaos and shock died down, people went back to normal, not realising how much debris of the devastation was still left, even months after the fact.
"No," was Jason's reply without hesitation. He didn't hold Coach's gaze, instead looking down at the table in front of him. "Maybe Saracen could help you out. Give up the pizza delivery," he added as an afterthought. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Coach in some way, he just didn't have the energy to think about football. He didn't want anything to do with it, in fact. Jury was still out whether he even wanted anything to do with Dillon, it was only a matter of if not Dillon, then what?
It wasn't like Jason Street to just passively refuse an offer like that. In the past, even if he didn't like something, he would usually watch you for a few moments to process it and try to tactically offer a response that would at least not let it look like a flat out refusal. Or if he really didn't like something, he told you outright to piss off and stick it. Coach stifled a sigh, remembering his promise to Tami to at least try to stop Jason turning into the third Riggins brother at the bottom of a beer bottle. She mentioned that the last few times she had spoken to Jason, he'd been drunk. "Son," he began, scratching at the back of his head while he waited for Jason to look up and meet his gaze. Jason did. Reactionary, probably, to being mentored by Coach for so long. "There ain't a thing in the world I could think of as worse than losing a child. And I ain't got first-hand experience with that, thank the Lord, but I am a father, and I know being a father is the best thing in your life you will ever do. It ain't mattering whether the child was born to this world yet or not. It's still a love that matches no other. I can only imagine it tore your heart out when you lost that child. But this is not what the path you want for yourself, son. It's not. You and I both know that. You've taken some hard knocks for a kid your age, but each and every time you've gotten back up with a determination not to let it destroy you. This ain't the end. But you need to not get yourself to the point of no return so you can't try again."
A Coach Speech. It had been awhile since Jason had been on the receiving end of one of those, and he really wanted it to be comforting. But no immediate soothing came from it, and no passion to get back up this time gnawed in his gut. "With all due respect, Coach," he began quietly, "no, you haven't lost a child. And you haven't had the love of your life walk out on you without even giving you the chance to say goodbye. You're not a quadriplegic, you can walk. You aren't unemployed, even if you're maybe not completely happy with the way your career has turned recently. You don't have any reason to wonder day in, day out, why at twenty one years old, you can't think of one single thing in your life to be happy or hopeful about. You ain't had every dream you've harboured ripped away from you. So just... thanks for trying, I know you're real busy right now, but I'm legal to drink now and I'm just gonna," he ended with a shrug, his tone flat and tired.
"Twenty one," Coach mused, unable to stop a faint smile flickering on his lips. "Still remember when you were running 'round that field at eight years old. I knew back then you were something special, Jason, and I ain't just meaning on the football field. Did your Dad take you out for your first legal drink on your birthday?"
Jason's eyes dropped back to the table and he shook his head silently. He hadn't done anything for his birthday. None of his friends seemed to remember it and he made no effort to remind them. He told his parents he wasn't feeling well the night before, and on the actual day, so he didn't have to do anything. He spent the day in bed at his parents' home with his Mom bringing him glasses of lemonade because she thought he was ill. Just hungover. Jason's first legal drink was puked into a toilet at around 3am. Alone. Nothing to log into the memory banks, by any means. The last thing he had felt like doing was celebrating. It was just another reminder that he had reached twenty one years old with absolutely nothing to show for his life. "I was sick on my birthday."
Coach merely raised his eyebrows a little, but didn't push. "Oh, well, it wasn't all that long ago. Still time to celebrate. You only turn twenty-one once, son. Make the most of it." He stopped talking again, wondering when it got so hard to read these kids he had about known their whole lives. He looked over Jason's face, finding drained tiredness there and dark circles under his eyes. It was likely that he wasn't sleeping the best, or enough. Or if it was booze-induced, it likely wouldn't be restful anyway. "You should go after her, son. I saw the way that girl looked at you those few months she was here. Julie said Miss MacKenzie had a crush on you for a long time. Why ain't you in New York trying to remind her that neither of you are alone in this? There's a fine line between grieving and wallowing, son. You ain't ever been the sort for the latter."
Jason put his elbows on the table in front of him and then rested his head down on his hands. He was quiet for a long time, lost in his thoughts, until eventually, "Coach?"
"Yeah, son?" Coach responded with a small frown, having watched the young ex-football star in the slumped position.
"Can you shut up, please? Just... the company is nice, but can you do it silently?" Jason requested quietly. "I'm listening, I promise. You just ain't telling me nothing I haven't already thought about at some point. So, I'm just going to sit here with my beer and not think about it right now. Okay?"
Coach was pretty sure this was nothing how Tami intended his 'talk' with Jason to eventuate. In fact, she probably assumed he could waltz right in and rescue Jason from his depression. The thing about that was Jason had to want it, and right now, Coach just couldn't read the lad. At all. It was unnerving, much like he had been in the hospital after his accident. No one had been sure what was running through Jason's head. Coach gave a slight nod, even if he was still watching Jason in concern. Instead of getting up and leaving, though, he just stayed seated silently beside the lad he had nurtured into a star from a boy, losing track of time and how long he sat there. And not once did he give a second though to doing so, either.
All muses referenced with permission
Word Count | 1,530
Friday Night Lights
"Did Billy Riggins adopt you when I wasn't looking?"
It was only when the voice broke through his mess of thoughts that Jason realised he was no longer sitting at the table in the bar alone. He did a slight double take when he found Coach Taylor sitting beside him, a red cap resting on the table in front of him. It was weird seeing Coach in red. Jason didn't think he would ever get used to it. "Hey, Coach," he said flatly, blinking a couple of times as he tried to replay Coach's comment in his mind and figure out what he was implying. Jason's head wasn't exactly the best functioning organ right now, though. In fact, as a quad and without his head working, there was very little of him left he could label as working soundly. He looked at the almost-spent beer bottle in front of him with a straw stuck in it, and it was a fair observation on Coach's part. "Uh... no. Just hanging out too much with Tim, I guess."
Coach's lips formed a thin line in thought as he analysed his ex-star Quarterback for a few moments. He made a small non-committal noise in response, using the pause to try and figure out how best to tackle this conversation. "I could really use a good assistant coach to help me pull these boys in line, Jason. Are you up for the challenge?" If going straight to the point didn't work, he would find another tactic. He and Tami had quite the discussion about Jason Street and Tim Riggins over breakfast this morning and before Coach realised, he was agreeing with his wife that he should try and talk to both boys. ASAP. The car accident involving the MacKenzie and Jameson girls had been big news in Dillon at the time, but once the chaos and shock died down, people went back to normal, not realising how much debris of the devastation was still left, even months after the fact.
"No," was Jason's reply without hesitation. He didn't hold Coach's gaze, instead looking down at the table in front of him. "Maybe Saracen could help you out. Give up the pizza delivery," he added as an afterthought. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Coach in some way, he just didn't have the energy to think about football. He didn't want anything to do with it, in fact. Jury was still out whether he even wanted anything to do with Dillon, it was only a matter of if not Dillon, then what?
It wasn't like Jason Street to just passively refuse an offer like that. In the past, even if he didn't like something, he would usually watch you for a few moments to process it and try to tactically offer a response that would at least not let it look like a flat out refusal. Or if he really didn't like something, he told you outright to piss off and stick it. Coach stifled a sigh, remembering his promise to Tami to at least try to stop Jason turning into the third Riggins brother at the bottom of a beer bottle. She mentioned that the last few times she had spoken to Jason, he'd been drunk. "Son," he began, scratching at the back of his head while he waited for Jason to look up and meet his gaze. Jason did. Reactionary, probably, to being mentored by Coach for so long. "There ain't a thing in the world I could think of as worse than losing a child. And I ain't got first-hand experience with that, thank the Lord, but I am a father, and I know being a father is the best thing in your life you will ever do. It ain't mattering whether the child was born to this world yet or not. It's still a love that matches no other. I can only imagine it tore your heart out when you lost that child. But this is not what the path you want for yourself, son. It's not. You and I both know that. You've taken some hard knocks for a kid your age, but each and every time you've gotten back up with a determination not to let it destroy you. This ain't the end. But you need to not get yourself to the point of no return so you can't try again."
A Coach Speech. It had been awhile since Jason had been on the receiving end of one of those, and he really wanted it to be comforting. But no immediate soothing came from it, and no passion to get back up this time gnawed in his gut. "With all due respect, Coach," he began quietly, "no, you haven't lost a child. And you haven't had the love of your life walk out on you without even giving you the chance to say goodbye. You're not a quadriplegic, you can walk. You aren't unemployed, even if you're maybe not completely happy with the way your career has turned recently. You don't have any reason to wonder day in, day out, why at twenty one years old, you can't think of one single thing in your life to be happy or hopeful about. You ain't had every dream you've harboured ripped away from you. So just... thanks for trying, I know you're real busy right now, but I'm legal to drink now and I'm just gonna," he ended with a shrug, his tone flat and tired.
"Twenty one," Coach mused, unable to stop a faint smile flickering on his lips. "Still remember when you were running 'round that field at eight years old. I knew back then you were something special, Jason, and I ain't just meaning on the football field. Did your Dad take you out for your first legal drink on your birthday?"
Jason's eyes dropped back to the table and he shook his head silently. He hadn't done anything for his birthday. None of his friends seemed to remember it and he made no effort to remind them. He told his parents he wasn't feeling well the night before, and on the actual day, so he didn't have to do anything. He spent the day in bed at his parents' home with his Mom bringing him glasses of lemonade because she thought he was ill. Just hungover. Jason's first legal drink was puked into a toilet at around 3am. Alone. Nothing to log into the memory banks, by any means. The last thing he had felt like doing was celebrating. It was just another reminder that he had reached twenty one years old with absolutely nothing to show for his life. "I was sick on my birthday."
Coach merely raised his eyebrows a little, but didn't push. "Oh, well, it wasn't all that long ago. Still time to celebrate. You only turn twenty-one once, son. Make the most of it." He stopped talking again, wondering when it got so hard to read these kids he had about known their whole lives. He looked over Jason's face, finding drained tiredness there and dark circles under his eyes. It was likely that he wasn't sleeping the best, or enough. Or if it was booze-induced, it likely wouldn't be restful anyway. "You should go after her, son. I saw the way that girl looked at you those few months she was here. Julie said Miss MacKenzie had a crush on you for a long time. Why ain't you in New York trying to remind her that neither of you are alone in this? There's a fine line between grieving and wallowing, son. You ain't ever been the sort for the latter."
Jason put his elbows on the table in front of him and then rested his head down on his hands. He was quiet for a long time, lost in his thoughts, until eventually, "Coach?"
"Yeah, son?" Coach responded with a small frown, having watched the young ex-football star in the slumped position.
"Can you shut up, please? Just... the company is nice, but can you do it silently?" Jason requested quietly. "I'm listening, I promise. You just ain't telling me nothing I haven't already thought about at some point. So, I'm just going to sit here with my beer and not think about it right now. Okay?"
Coach was pretty sure this was nothing how Tami intended his 'talk' with Jason to eventuate. In fact, she probably assumed he could waltz right in and rescue Jason from his depression. The thing about that was Jason had to want it, and right now, Coach just couldn't read the lad. At all. It was unnerving, much like he had been in the hospital after his accident. No one had been sure what was running through Jason's head. Coach gave a slight nod, even if he was still watching Jason in concern. Instead of getting up and leaving, though, he just stayed seated silently beside the lad he had nurtured into a star from a boy, losing track of time and how long he sat there. And not once did he give a second though to doing so, either.
All muses referenced with permission
Word Count | 1,530