Title: Unnecessary Roughness (6/11)
Author: Romantique
Email:
Classification: Eric/Tami Pairing.
Rating: M for suggestive, non-explicit adult themes.
Summary: After accepting the District's offer of Head Coach of the East Dillon Lions, the new contract continues to test Coach Taylor's patience and his pride.
Disclaimer: Friday Night Lights fan fiction occurs at the end of Season 3 and is a Prequel to Season 4 which has yet to air.
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.
East Dillon High School
July 7th
7 a.m.
The Fourth of July had been different than the Fourths of years past. Julie had to work the entire three-day weekend. She didn't mind working the holiday because Tyra told her she'd make good tips. Gracie did not like the loud boom of the neighborhood kids shooting off fireworks. Normally, Eric enjoyed blowing up a few fireworks on the Fourth, but he was also very mindful of not watching their money go up in smoke.
Eric, Tami, and Gracie spent one very nice day out on their patio. The baby swam in her inflatable pool with her toys while Eric grilled some Porterhouse steaks Buddy had given him from the 2 sides of beef he bought as part of his "July 4th Auto Extravaganza" promotion. On that warm Texas summer afternoon, Eric and his wife relaxed outside on a warm Texas summer afternoon drinking Sangria and just enjoying the down time. He took the three days off from the Boosters, game films, and driving students. He and Tami were too exhausted to do anything special but spend some quality time with Gracie and catch up on their sleep on their extra day off.
Today was Eric's first day back to work after the holiday. After his morning driving classes, the office notified him that because he had a reduced number of students since enrollment, he would be absorbing some students from a driving teacher who was out on sick leave for the remainder of the week. If that wasn't good enough news to begin his week, he received bad news about the bleacher construction for the football field. Budget cuts struck once again.
East Dillon Practice Field
July 7th
2:30 p.m.
Eric announced to the team that they would be spending the next two weeks in 'special skills camp.' As a personal favor to their former coach, Matt Saracen and Tim Riggins offered to work with some of the squad at practices for the next two weeks.
This extra help enabled Eric to be able to concentrate on other staffing and budgetary issues. He never liked dealing with the bureaucratic red tape. It was always his least favorite part of his coaching job, but he also knew if he didn't take care of getting the team's equipment needs met or hiring a defensive coach, these things would bite the team later in their season.
Beads of sweat popped up on Eric's forehead. The poorly working air conditioning unit in his office reminded him this was a far cry from his office at Dillon High. He couldn't help but wonder if this was some kind of karmic payback for the disparity of treatment between the Men's and Women's Athletics Departments while he was at Dillon.
Transferred and put on hold no less than ten times, Eric was getting nowhere on the phone with the District Procurement Office, trying to get a straight answer as to why their purchase order for safety equipment was not approved. Finally, a bureaucratic accountant took his call and told him there was freeze on all equipment purchases until further notice. His newer players couldn't play without safety equipment; he would have to contact the league and come up with Plan B.
About that time Saracen and Riggins came through looking for him.
"Hey," Eric waved the two in. He turned to walk over to the refrigerator and grabbed an ice cold bottle of water. "Want one?" he asked.
After receiving a positive response, he tossed each of them a bottle, keeping one for himself. "So, how did it go?" he asked his two former players.
"I think you're right about your QB1, Coach," Saracen began. "Are we going to get a chance to work with the QB2?"
"Yeah," Eric answered as he held the icy bottle to his face in an attempt to cool off. "Zach is scheduled to be at tomorrow's practice. It's not ideal. We're workin' with him to get his driver's license so he can change his work schedule to nights and attend all practices."
"Déjà vu, Seven," Riggins smiled at Saracen. "Not only does he work most nights, he'll be a Junior this year, too, just like you were."
Matt Saracen scanned the scene around him. His former coach looked out of place at this school. "How's everything going?"
"Ahhhhh, there're so many obstacles to overcome, it's almost overwhelmin'," Eric answered. "For example, my obstacle of the day is that I don't have enough safety equipment for my new players. The students here are so poor that most of them can't afford to pay for the equipment. You know how it goes, if they're not properly suited, they can't play."
"Maybe you could get some of your old Panther players to donate theirs," Riggins said. "I know my stuff doesn't fit me anymore, and Billy sure as hell doesn't use his."
Coach looked at Riggins. He did look like he'd grown another inch or two in height in the past couple months.
"Uh, I won't be using my safety stuff either. You can have mine," Saracen offered. "The only thing I'd like to keep is my jersey."
"I can't donate my cup, though," Riggins smiled. "None of these pups would fit into my cup." And he laughed.
"We don't want your damn cup, Riggins" Eric couldn't help but smile. "But if you could get us some shoulder pads, gloves, and paddin', we sure would put them to good use here. Just be sure not to let the new Dillon regime or players on the current squad know about this … not even Clarke, Saracen."
"It's my equipment," Riggins said. "I don't see how anyone can tell me what to do with my stuff."
"I'm tryin' to fly under the radar," Eric said, taking a sip of the cold water. "The District gives us nothin' but grief. They find something wrong with everything we do when all we're tryin' to do is help ourselves, while they do nothin'."
Sensing his former coach's frustration, Saracen said, "Alright, we'll keep it real quiet."
"Hey Coach," Riggins changed he subject. "You might also want to keep an eye on your Kicker."
"Coronado?" Eric asked.
"I don't know his name," Riggins expounds, "but I know his face. I've seen him and his brother and their gang at The Roadhouse. He's in the Pythons. They deal Meth."
"Are you sure?" Eric asked. "You don't go around sayin' stuff like that unless you're damn sure."
Riggins looked his former coach in the eye. "I know what I've seen. Just keep an eye on him, Coach."
East Dillon Practice Field
July 9th
2:30 p.m.
Eric and Assistant Coach White put the team through their paces, breaking out specific players to take advantage of working with Saracen and Riggins. They practiced hard in the hot, Texas sun.
After practice, Saracen and Riggins met Eric on the sidelines.
"I worked with QB2 yesterday into the evenin', Coach," Saracen said. "He's got a great arm, really good instincts. We need to work on his speed, but he could definitely be QB1."
"Well good," Eric said from behind his dark glasses. "Would you do that? Work with him on his speed?"
"Sure, I can do that," Saracen said.
"I got a question for you," Riggins changed the subject. "You need Mac. Why can't you get him over here to help you, Coach?"
"This is just between us, right?" Eric prefaced. "I don't think you've heard, but the District is leanin' on Mac to retire."
The two younger men looked very surprised.
"I'd love to have Mac, but if the District can't afford to pay him, I sure don't have the funds in my budget to pay him," Eric explained. "Besides, I don't know if you've thought about this, but with Mac and I workin' with the Panther organization for a couple of season, the players that still remain … they know us. They know how we think, how we play, how we strategize, how we practice."
Eric looked down at the ground. "As much as I love Mac, in this situation over here, I need some totally new blood on offense and defense."
"You need a good defense," Saracen said. "Coach Aikman is only about the flashy passing plays and offensive runs."
"I hear you, Matt. Aikman has all his eggs in one basket. But I need both," Eric said. "Do you think this kid Baskov is gonna be able to lead a winning offense? Or do I need to keep lookin'?"
"Physically, his arm's good, his legs are slow. I don't know his heart," Matt answered without missing a beat. "QB1 … His legs are fast, his arm's not as good as QB2's. I don't know his heart, either."
Eric couldn't help but be pleased. On the field, Matt Saracen always listened to and did what Eric said. He respected Eric enough to remember what worked for him. "After two days, I agree with your assessment," Eric said. "You two work on QB2's speed. It's up to me to get to know these two young men, to see if I can get to know their hearts."
Zach Baskov's Home
East Dillon
July 9th
5:30 p.m.
It was Eric's night for the driving lesson. He decided to pick up Zach a little early and take advantage of their one on one time before picking up Mia. Over the past few weeks, Tami had been picking up Mia a little early to have some one on one time with her. Whereas Mia still made Eric very uncomfortable, Tami looked at the young woman as a challenge. Tami had already tapped into Mia's desire to design hair and clothing and was giving her real direction in those areas. Now it was Eric's turn to see if he could tap into Zach.
"Hey, Coach," Zach said as Eric pulled up and let his student take the driver's seat.
"How ya' doin'," Eric gave a little smile.
Once they were both belted in, Eric asked him to drive the interstate out to the Target parking lot. It was about five minutes from Mia's trailer park.
"How are your practices going with Matt Saracen?" Eric asked.
Zach shook his head. "He's putting me through the paces. I'm not fast enough."
"Every player has strengths and weaknesses. We've identified yours," Eric said. "Weaknesses can be overcome with a lot of work and desire. The question always is: How badly do you want it?"
Zach answered, "Oh, I want to do it. I just don't know if I can."
Eric glanced over at the young man. "Do you know what mind over matter, means?"
"I'm not sure," Zach answered.
"It means you can do anything if you put your mind to it," Eric answered his own question. "You have to know you can do it, see yourself doin' it. There can be no doubt. Because if there is doubt, you have a 50 percent chance of failure. When there is no doubt, there is a 100 percent chance of success."
There was a silence.
Eric looked in the side mirrors as they pulled to a stop in the Target parking lot. "Do you want to be QB1 for the East Dillon Lions?" Eric asked.
The young man looked tense.
"It's a fair question," Eric insisted. "You're a Junior. Before I invest any trainin' and effort in you, it's a fair question."
"Yeah, I want it," Zach finally answered. "But I'm not sure my father wants me spending my time playing ball."
"Tell me about your father," Eric said, keeping his eye on the clock. They had 20 minutes before they had to pick up Mia.
Zach sighed. "There's not much to tell. My father runs the dry cleaners at the mall. It's a 7 day a week business; it's a family business. My mother does the alterations with my sisters. My brother and I help my father with the steaming and pressing, the bagging and pricing, and the register." Zach turned to face his coach. "Any time playing football is time away from the family business. At least that's the way my father sees it."
"Does he have plans for you to go to college?" Eric asked.
"Yes, of course," Zach said is if he was stating the obvious. "He and my mother came to this country so that we could have opportunities."
"Does he want you to take over his business or do you have other plans? What do you want to do when you leave East Dillon?" Eric was on roll.
"No. He wants his children to have a better, easier life than he's had. He'd like me and my brother to go to law school," Zach admitted. "My sisters will marry."
Eric paused for a moment. "Are your father's wishes for you and your brother, are they realistic? Do you have the grades to get into law school? Is it what you want?"
"I want to make my father happy," Zach sounded sincere.
Eric let out a small sigh. "Studyin' law is a worthwhile goal, so long as it's what you want."
"Does that mean I'm out of the running for QB1?" Zack asked.
"Baskov," Eric paused. "If you truly want to practice law, what difference does it make which football position you play? Any position on any athletic team would look great on a law school application."
Eric continued, "It's my job to put together a team that wins football games. And that takes skill, desire, time, heart, and commitment on the part of the player and his family to the East Dillon Lions. The QB1 requires all of these things and even more because it's a leadership position. I asked you some tough questions tonight. From your answers, you're not a good fit for QB1. You don't want it bad enough. There's no shame in that."
After an awkward beat, Eric tried to close it up. "I've got players who want to play college ball and some want to go to the pros. These players want it bad. For those who have the talent and that kind of desire and heart, high school football is a natural fit for their career goals. It's not fair to give limited time and resources to someone who rightfully has another career choice. It's nothin' personal, Zach."
Other than taking direction in driving, Zach was very quiet for the rest of the evening.
To be continued ...