Title: Illegal Procedure (4/X)
Author: Romantique
Email:
Classification: Eric/Tami Drama/Angst
Rating: T for some language.
Summary: SPOILERS from Season 4. Coach Taylor was exiled to East Dillon because he refused to play ball with Joe McCoy. The power struggle continues.
Disclaimer: SPOILERS from Season 4. This fan fiction was written before Season 4 Episode 3 airs.
Legal: These characters do not belong to me. I'm just a fan and have not made a dime. Please email me to obtain permission to post.
The following day at 1:00 p.m. …
Once again, all parties were assembled in the courtroom when the Bailiff called "All rise." Only this time, Joe McCoy was without his battery of Houston attorneys.
The Honorable Jeffrey Anderson presided over the proceedings and quickly took care of the introductory requirements of trial. Turning his attention to the District Attorney, he instructed Mr. Atwater to proceed.
As soon as Mr. Atwater began addressing the Court, Mr. Elroy objected. "Your Honor, we must strongly raise an objection, as the District Attorney has not met the threshold to charge my client with a Third Degree Felony Assault. What we are talking about here is a long standing argument between a high school football coach and a parent because my client and his wife were mandated by law to report an incident of child abuse involving the now disgruntled parent, Joseph McCoy. Retaliation for that incident … That is what is going on here, and that is what needs to be addressed. To make it anything more is a direct assault on my client's civil rights."
Judge Anderson peered over his reader glasses and looked directly at the D.A. "After reading the briefs, I'm wondering the same thing, Mr. Atwater. Do you have credible evidence, today, that will show Mr. Taylor "deliberately and with knowledge prevented a public servant or a government contractor from carrying out official duties?" I'm not aware that Mr. McCoy is either a public servant or a government contractor. According to my records, he is the Owner/CEO of a beer distributorship and a pain in the ass to the Dillon Boosters. Or do you need to enlighten me otherwise?"
There was mild chuckling inside the courtroom.
"Your Honor, we would like to amend and to diminish the charge at this time to a single misdemeanor count of assault," the D.A. requested with some embarrassment.
"To which Mr. Taylor still pleads not guilty." Mr. Elroy stood up and interjected. "And again, we'd like to object. In order for there to be a charge of assault, there has to be injury. The only person who has sustained injury is Mr. Taylor."
Judge Anderson looked over at Eric. "Yes, I can see Mr. Taylor's injuries which, even today, appear to be substantial. I've also seen the photographs and the medical notes related to his injuries. Now, where is Mr. McCoy? Would you stand please, sir?"
Joe McCoy stood before the Judge.
"You are claiming injuries?" the Judge glared down at him.
"Yes, your Honor," Joe McCoy answered, staring back at the Judge. "I sustained dental injuries that will require some $15,000.00 worth of dental work to repair. All done at the hands of Coach Eric Taylor."
Judge Anderson continued to stare down Joe McCoy. "And do you have some kind of medical or dental substantiation to back up your claim? Let the record show that unlike Mr. Taylor's face, Mr. McCoy's face looks to be just fine to this Judge … as is also evidenced in the video tape of this proceeding."
"I do," Joe smugly answered and passed paperwork to the Bailiff.
The Judge quickly glanced at the papers and then asked that they be passed over to Mr. Elroy. "Mr. Elroy, have you seen these before today?"
Looking at the paperwork, he responded, "No, I have not."
For the first time in the proceedings, Eric began to become concerned. There was no telling what Joe McCoy was up to.
"Didn't think so," snapped the Judge. "Dental implants, huh? From a Houston dentist," the Judge scoffed. "Now, did this happen before or after you smashed the defendant's hand with the heel of your boot?"
Gasps came from all over the courtroom.
Before Joe McCoy could utter a response, the Judge barked, "You may be seated Mr. McCoy."
"Mr. Atwater, are you sure you want to entertain this Court's time with a case that is about as personal and below the belt as I've seen in some time?" the Judge sneered. "Because if you are … Let's go."
"No sir, your Honor," the D.A. answered.
"Wait just a minute!" Joe McCoy uttered extemporaneously to the D.A. "What about the mailbox and the unscrupulous practices …"
Mr. Atwater cut Joe off and continued to address the Court. "Let the record show that I have been unable to find any other witness other than Mr. McCoy to substantiate his own claims. My office has found no one who will testify that they saw Mr. Taylor strike Mr. McCoy, much less to strike him in such a way as to cause the dental damages he suddenly seeks. There is nothing in the Police Report regarding dental injury. And in a room of more than 20 witnesses to have no one back up his version, that is disturbing to my Office. We would like to drop all charges against Mr. Taylor and entertain filing charges against Mr. McCoy."
"So granted," the Judge nodded. "Mr. Taylor, all charges are dropped. You are free to go, sir," the Judge said, as he slammed his gavel down.
Eric smiled a half smile he could manage and reached over to hug his relieved wife. Then, he shook his attorney's hand with his good, left hand to thank him.
Mr. Elroy offered, "I don't think you'll see a civil suit filed against you in this Courthouse after this. Word has it that the Houston legal team Mr. McCoy hired quit yesterday, after seeing your injured face in Court yesterday."
"Oh, that's such a relief," Tami smiled.
"But we still have the District matter to have dropped. That will happen in the next few days to a week,' Mr. Elroy explained.
"Any chance of getting my suspension lifted before the game against Dillon High on Friday?" Eric asked with some hope in his voice.
Mr. Elroy smiled. "I can't promise anything, but I'd love to see it happen. I'll see what I can do. I want some good seats to see your East Dillon Lions play the Panthers. I'll be in touch with you soon."
Joe McCoy slipped out of the Courtroom while the Taylors were engaged in conversation with Mr. Elroy.
Tami took Eric by the arm and led him out of the courtroom where they met up with Buddy and some of the other Boosters in the back of the hallway.
"Did you notice?" Buddy asked in a low voice.
"Notice what?" Eric's mood seemed a lot lighter than in days past.
"Judge Anderson is the grandfather of Buzz Anderson," Buddy grinned.
"Of course," Eric was astounded. "I didn't catch it before but the resemblance is uncanny." Eric turned to Tami. "Buzz was on the championship team I coached two years ago. He was a senior and graduated that year with a championship ring."
Tami smiled and gave her husband another hug, so thrilled he had been vindicated.
"Ya'll feel like going out with some of us and strategizing on how you're going to kick J.D. McCoy's scrawny little ass on Friday?" Buddy proposed with a laugh.
"I have to get back to the school, but Honey, you can go. It'd be good for you," Tami smiled. "Buddy, do you promise to get him home to me before too late tonight and not hung over?"
"You bet I can," Buddy laughed.
"Bye, Honey," Tami said and gave her husband a kiss on his good side.
Unbeknownst to both Tami … and Eric, Buddy and some of the guys put Eric in the car and headed for the Landing Strip.
An hour later …
"You are just hell bent on gettin' me in trouble," Eric complained from the passenger seat of Buddy's SUV. "Every time I listen to you, I jump from the fire and into the frying pan. I'm serious!"
"Now, that's not true," Buddy argued. "Didn't I tell you Dave Elroy would do you right? And that the Panthers would look out for you?"
"Yeah, but Buddy … I don't party at places like the Landin' Strip. Seriously, I won't go in there," Eric crossed his arms in defiance, careful of his injured hand.
"Eric, we go to the Landing Strip because we can talk there. There's a room in the back where we can talk without having to worry about who is listening to us," Buddy explains.
"Well, why can't you go in there and then, tell me all about it later so that I don't get into trouble?" Eric said, thinking his suggestion is a good one. "And I'll call someone to come pick me up."
"Ah, c'mon, Eric," Buddy begged.
"No," Eric was firm. "I'm a Coach and a teacher, and I have no business bein' in a place like this. Not to mention I'm a very happily married man and would never disrespect Tami." He looked very stern. "I won't go in there, Buddy."
"Well, what are we going to tell the guys?" Buddy asked as if he was sixteen years old.
"Why don't we pick up some drinks and some snacks and head over to your place?" Eric suggested. "And talk some football where we can hear ourselves talk?"
"Well, yeah. I guess we could do that," Buddy thought.
"You know, tell everyone to stop at the store and BYOB and meet at your place in an hour," Eric suggested again. "Please, blame it on me," Eric said, looking at the Landing Strip's sign.
"Okay," Buddy acquiesced. And he went and talked to the several cars that had followed him.
Another hour later …
Most of the Booster group that was at the courthouse made it to Buddy's house. While Eric was grateful for the help he received, he was distrustful of what had happened to him and his family over the past six months at the hands of many of these men.
"Here you go, Eric," Buddy poured his friend some Scotch in a glass.
And after the ten men all had something to drink in their hand, Buddy raised his glass. "This is to Coach Eric Taylor … For standing up to Joe McCoy and for surviving his retaliation. You've got some cajones, my friend. Cheers!"
"Cheers," they all toasted their former coach.
"And I want to thank you for tellin' the truth and doin' the right thing. Really, thank y'all," Eric toasted them back.
"Now, let's talk about how you're going beat J.D. McCoy," Buddy sneered.
Eric allowed Buddy to refill his drink. "Gentlemen, I really don't understand something. You are Dillon Panther Boosters, and J.D. McCoy is your quarterback for your team that you need to go to State. Explain to me why I would believe that you all want me and my East Dillon Lions to beat your Panthers? Enlighten me, please."
Larry Moffett explained. "The Panthers we have today are not our Panthers. Our Panthers were split in two. The team members that remain at Dillon High are being coached and molded by Joe McCoy through his little bitch, Wade Aikman."
"Oh, Wade's not that bad. He knows what he's doin' from a coachin' standpoint," Eric countered.
"Wrong, Eric," Buddy interjected. "He does exactly what Joe McCoy tells him to do, whether it's good for the team or not. And he only cares about what is good for J.D. He's a hired gun for Joe McCoy. Screw the rest of the players, screw the Boosters … screw the Dillon Panthers."
"Ya'll knew it was gonna be like this when you all sat there with your mouths shut at the Board meetin' last summer and the decision was made to replace me with Wade. Not a single one of you opened your mouths to stop it from happenin'," Eric spoke the truth. He had nothing to lose.
Seth Moody piped in. "We made a mistake, Coach. There was no way we could have known this would happen. Joe McCoy came into town romancing every one of us. It's true; we were succumbed by the money. But we were wrong. And we're big enough men to admit that we were wrong."
"Yeah," others joined in.
Eric took a hard drink of his Scotch. The pain in his face was beginning to subside a little. "The damage has been done. I can't go back and coach at Dillon High. What do you want me to do?"
"We want your Lions to kick the Panthers' asses on Friday night," Buddy said.
"Why?" Eric still couldn't believe what he was hearing. "To get back at Joe or take it out on J.D.? J.D. is just a kid! He's a kid who may very well be destined to go into the Pros one day."
Sam Phelps answered, "You haven't been around J.D. lately. He's turned into a jerk, just like his father. For the good of the rest of the players on the team, he needs to be knocked down a peg or two."
"J.D. is predictably a jerk because his father is one. He either emulates his father to survive, or he gets roughed up at home," Eric tried to explain.
"But he still needs to be knocked down a peg or two on the field, Eric," Buddy echoed the sentiments of the others. "Otherwise, there is no team. There's only the 'J.D. McCoy Show.' This is a hundred times worse than when Smash was so full of himself."
Sam continued, "You're one of us, Eric … a State Championship ring holder. You owe it to us to help us. And we owe it to you to help you. We'll start supporting your Lions. Half of our Panthers are your Lions."
"You see, Eric, it's recently dawned on us that the Panthers are not a team or a school. They are a state of mind and state of heart." Buddy painted him a picture. "Joe McCoy, Wade Aikman, and J.D. do not embody the qualities of our beloved Panthers. You do. And nothing would give them a better wakeup call then to lose to your underdog Lions."
"I can't promise you my team can win Friday," Eric explained. "I can't even promise you I will be allowed to coach on Friday."
"We brought you some game tapes, Eric," Seth said and handed Eric over a bag of tapes, "especially of Panther QB1."
"You can't tell me it wouldn't do your heart and your team's heart good for your Lions to beat your old school," Buddy smiled. "We know you can't promise, but you could promise you'll try. Our offer for future support of the East Dillon Lions remains."
Eric looked into the bag of tapes and slowly nodded his head. "Alright," he said. "I'll review these and see what we can do."