Title: Unnecessary Roughness (9/11)

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

Practice Field

July 11th

10:00 a.m.

After an out of body night with his beautiful wife, Eric woke up feeling renewed. Before heading off to do the Saturday morning field renovation work with the team, he cooked a breakfast of pancakes and eggs for Tami and the girls.

The latest project for the East Dillon Lions was repairing and painting the bleachers. The weather-rotted wood had to be replaced one bleacher at a time. It was a painstaking project, but they devised a strategy of replacing one section at a time, then following it up with new paint. Eric also secured the help of the JV squad in the field renovation project which added many more hands to the production. At this rate, Eric calculated that they would be finished before the end of the month. Then, they could move onto replacing the rotting fence.

At about 11 a.m., Buddy Garrity showed up with a peace offering of a tall cup of iced coffee for Eric. The two men went off to talk on the far side of the field, away from the ears of the team.

"Eric, I am so embarrassed about last night," Buddy began, actually looking embarrassed. "I apologize a thousand times for disrupting your night with your wife."

"Last night was the last straw," Eric took off his dark glasses to look Buddy in the eye. "Buddy, you can't just stop by the house unannounced anymore, understand? You can't be bangin' on our front door wakin' up the baby, okay? It's just wrong."

"I understand. But what if I told you it was an emergency?" Buddy asked. He was quite serious.

"Buddy, ask yourself this," Eric decided to draw him a picture. "You're in the throws of passion with a desirable woman, and it's been some time since the two of you could … come together. Now, you tell me, was what you had to tell me last night a life and death emergency? Or could it have waited until the next day, until after you were able to get some kind of relief from your pent-up physical needs?"

Buddy thought for a beat. "Well, that's a tough one. This was pretty important."

Eric let out a sigh of frustration. Talking with his hands, he said, "Let me give you a hint. If it's me we're talkin' about, whatever it is can definitely wait until the next day."

Buddy was about to explode with his news. "Yeah, alright," he tried to show some contrition. Then, he launched into, "Are you ready now? Joe McCoy is romancing Governor Rick Perry for tax incentives to build a bottling plant for his beer distributorship right here in East Dillon. He would instantly become the biggest employer in all of Dillon/East Dillon. He's already got Lucy Rodell in his hip pocket, buying political favor. Mark my words, Eric … Before we know it, that son-of-a-bitch will be buying himself a political office."

"And you know this, how?" Eric asked.

Now Buddy was talking with his hands. "McCoy was bragging about it at the Boosters meeting last night. I rushed right over to tell you."

Frankly, the news made Eric a little sick to his stomach. "I thank you for wantin' to keep me in the loop. But I still maintain the news could have waited until now."

Baffled, Buddy asked, "Aren't you worried about McCoy becoming too influential? Do you realize he could very well be employing the parents of your players?"

Eric had to choose his words carefully. "You know how I feel about McCoy. I'm not happy to hear this, but there's nothin' I can do to stop him from doin' whatever it is he's doin'. I need to concentrate on my task at hand. And that is gettin' this field in shape so that these players don't injure themselves playin' football."

Letting some of the wind out of Buddy's sails, Eric said, "I need to get back to the field maintenance. Thanks again for the heads up."

"Uh, yeah," said Buddy, confused by Eric's apparent lack of fire. "I need to get back to the dealership. You take care now."

Eric soon returned to hammering planks of cut wood into the bleacher frames. He wasn't about to let on to Buddy, but the latest news about Joe McCoy did not make him happy. After hearing about McCoy's plans to become the kingpin of the county, it felt good to physically pummel something. Eric couldn't help but wonder how long it would take to construct a bottling plant. He hoped it would take years.

East Dillon High

Practice Field

July 11th

2:00 p.m.

Zach Baskov arrived at the practice field ready to meet the next phase of his training. Matt Saracen worked with him, one on one, to time him on sprints. He also designed a weight training routine that he went over with the young man and then, had him throw pass patterns to him during the last part of the practice.

At the end of the team's workout, Tim Riggins arrived in his truck. He needed to talk to his former coach and found him in his office.

"Hey, Coach? Remember when I told you need to keep an eye on your Kicker?" Riggins asked Eric.

"Yeah," Eric looked up from doing paperwork and nodded.

"I saw Jesus Coronado last night, at the Roadhouse, along with the Cobras. They were doing meth," Riggins explained. Then, he took out his cell phone and began to scroll through the menu. "I'm going to show you something I got from last night to prove I'm not just spreading rumors. And then, I'm gonna lose what I show you because I don't want to get involved in anything having to do with the Cobras."

"And you think I do?" Eric was irritated.

"You tell me this is not Coronado," Riggins showed him the image on the screen of his phone, nodding his head knowingly. "I had to be very careful that he didn't see me there. So far, he doesn't act like he's ever seen me before, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Eric looked at the picture. It was Coronado smoking some kind of pipe with some other guys. "Look, I don't want to be involved either." After a beat, Eric asked, "Why are you hangin' around the Roadhouse? It's a biker bar, isn't it?"

"Billy's been bartending there at night on the weekends, just until the business gets more solid. I head over there after getting off at Riggins Riggs." The truth of the matter was, Tim went for the free beers, but he didn't want Coach Taylor to know. Somehow, it mattered what Coach Taylor thought of him. "You don't have to be involved, Coach. I just thought you should know what kind of a negative influence is around your team, you know, so you can protect yourself," Riggins said. "And I wanted you to know that I was telling you the truth."

"Understood," Eric said. "Now, let's move on because you and I never had this conversation." Eric gave young Riggins a look to show that he meant business.

East Dillon High

Practice Field

July 13th

2:30 p.m.

This year had been such a mixed bag, and the summer continued the trend. For every good thing that happened, there were two bad things, it seemed, to keep Eric on his toes. He might have taken it personally, but such was the same with most everyone he knew because of the recession. Eric wasn't one to pity himself, as he certainly didn't have it as bad as some. All he had to do was look around.

Such were his thoughts upon hearing about Joe McCoy and Jesus Coronado. He tried to shake off the negativity he had just heard and focus on the practice at hand. Soon, he saw Zach Baskov walking towards him and a young man who must have been his brother. Zach's father was right. The kid was big.

"Coach Taylor? This is my brother, Michael Baskov," Zach introduced his younger brother.

Extending his hand, Eric said, "It's nice to meet you, son. I hear you want to play football for the Lions?"

Shaking his hand, the younger man said, "Yes, sir. I would like to try out for the team."

"Do you have experience playin' ball?" Eric asked. He thought to himself that this kid was a solid moose.

"I know the rules of the game from watching my brother play. But no, I've never played," he admitted.

"I think he'd be a good offensive blocker," Zach said. "But maybe he would be good for defense, too.

"I tell you what, Michael," Eric addressed the young man.

"Hey, Riggins!" Eric yelled across the field. "C'mere," he motioned to this former player.

Michael Baskov knew of Tim Riggins from watching Panther football.

"Yeah, Coach," Riggins was a bit winded after his run across the field.

"Tim Riggins, this is Michael Baskov, Zach Baskov's younger brother," Eric made the introduction. "Michael would like to try out for the team. He's never played, but has the advantage of havin' an older brother who has. Why don't you take him out on the field, one-on-one, and let me know what position he should try out?"

"Sure thing, Coach," Tim said. "C'mon Baskov. Let's head over to the other side of the field and find out what ya' got."

While walking, Tim made an observation. "So, you're the younger brother of the guy Matt Saracen is working with?"

"Matt Saracen's working with Zach? Michael wanted to know, obviously impressed.

"Yeah, he is. And it looks like I'll be working with you," Riggins nodded. "So, how do you feel about your older brother? I mean, how do you two get along?"

"He's my brother. What more can I say?" Michael answered.

"I mean, as far a brothers go, is he the kind of brother you'd like to kick his ass, or the kind you'd take an ass beating for to protect?" Riggins asked, pulling no punches.

Riggins picked up on the uncertainty. "Let me give you a for instance. My older brother Billy, he can be jerk, telling me what to do all the time which is funny because he doesn't know shit about anything. But when it comes right down to it, I'd kick the ass of anyone who tried to mess with him," Riggins explained. "But that's me and Billy. How is it with you and Zack?"

"I guess we're sorta like you and your brother. I'd definitely protect my brother. Heck, he protected me growing up," Michael offered.

"Right. As older brothers, I guess they have protected us until we were big enough to protect ourselves," Riggins lamented, having reached the other side of the field. "Now, I'm bigger than my older brother, just like you. So, maybe it's natural for us to want to protect them when they can't."

Riggins picked up some orange cones and laid out an area on the field for them to get to work. "What I'm thinking is, you might do good defending your brother from an ass whooping from the other team's defense," he suggested.

Next, Riggins then handed him padding and showed him how to put it on and told him why it was important. Then, he tossed him a helmet.

"Tomorrow when you show up for practice, make sure you have a mouth guard, okay?" Riggins instructed in his best coaching voice.

He proceeded to go over the rules for blocking and had the kid repeat them back to make sure he got it. Riggins would continue drilling him on the rules for the remainder of the week. The two spent the remainder of the practice learning some blocks and how fall, and roll to prevent injury.

"You show up tomorrow with the mouth guard and I'll ask Saracen to let us practice with your brother,' Riggins shared his plan with a warning. "I'll be comin' after your brother, and it will be your job to keep me away from him."

Riggins was looking forward to some hard hitting. It had been awhile since he was able to let off some steam.

Taylor Home

July 11th

9:00 p.m.

Eric arrived home after giving a driving lesson to Mia and Zach. He and Tami were almost finished with this latest project.

"Hey, Hon," Tami greeted. She was curled up on the living room sofa doing some budgetary paperwork for the District.

"Hey," he said, leaning down to give his wife a kiss. "Did Gracie go down without much of a fuss?"

Tami looked up from her paperwork. "Yeah, but she had me read "Dewey the Cat" three times, complete with sound effects, before she finally nodded off. Who bought her that book, anyway?"

"I recall her big sister bought it," Eric unloaded by arms of his paperwork on the coffee table. "You know what?"

"No, what?" she looked up, trying to read the answer on his face.

"You are a miracle worker, Tami Taylor," Eric smiled and tapped her feet to make room for him on the sofa. He took a seat beside her. "I don't know what you did to Mia, but you wouldn't even know she's the same, troubled girl we found only six weeks ago. Now, she's friendly and confident and excited about the future."

"Like a lot of girls I see, she just needed to learn that she's worth a whole lot more than being taken advantage of by boys," Tami explained.

"Do you ever feel I take advantage of you?" Eric asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Tami gave a little smile. "Well," she drew the word out as a teaser. "No, Hon, you're usually very considerate of me."

"Thank you," he smiled. "I'm still very much in awe of the work you did with Mia in such a short amount of time."

"I gave her some hope that she can do better in life than her parents have been able to do," Tami explained herself.

Eric smiled at his wife. "You make it sound so easy, but I know for a fact that it's not. Truth is, you have a gift with these kids. You have insight into them that I just don't see. I'm very grateful and very proud of you." He leaned over and gave her a better kiss.

"How's Julie doing? It seems like I never see her anymore," he put his arm around his wife.

Tami settled into him, leaning against him. "I don't see her any more than you do. They've been laying off at Appleby's. To keep her job, she's bussing tables in addition to her server responsibilities. And she's socking as much money as she can into her savings so she can keep up with her car and insurance payments."

"I'm proud of her for takin' her car payment responsibilities seriously," Eric said, leaning his head against Tami's. "But I'm sorry to hear she has to take on extra responsibilities to make the same money."

"Just like everywhere else," Tami commented. "I'm trying to make do with less and less money at the high school. It's a joke. And look at you, refurbishing a field and bleachers because the District has no funds. Working more for less; it's a sign of the times."

Winding down for the night, Eric put his feet up on the coffee table. "Do you want to know what was so all fired important that Buddy came over last night?"

"I don't know, Hon. Do I want to know?" she braced herself by putting her arms around his waste.

"Booster rumor has it that Joe McCoy is in talks with the governor to obtain tax breaks so that he can build a bottlin' plant in job-starved East Dillon, but you never heard it from me. Evidently, the Stud of Suds' business is showin' big profits during this recession," Eric told her. As principal of JD's school, he figured she should know.

"Wow," Tami uttered. "Talk about someone who doesn't deserve to be profiting off the sorrow of others. You were right about a big divide in this town. It's going to be between the 'haves' and the 'have-nots,' and the gap between the two is growing wider and wider."

"If approved, I just hope that plant takes a long time to build," Eric sighed. He hugged his wife tight and buried his face in Tami's soft, fragrant hair. "We need time to recover, Tami. We need time."