In the wee early days of CLSL I came on here and professed my mad crush on NBC’s Friday Night Lights. This time around, be prepared for a full on slobbery make-out session. Because the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences finally got their heads out of their self-absorbed and politically misguided asses and gave it some due.

Adopt me, please!

Coach and Mrs. Coach got Emmy noms today. That made today a good, good day in Dillon country.

For the record, I watch a LOT of TV. People ask me what shows I watch and I have to go by day of the week. And I still lose track. I like to use the fact I’m in the entertainment industry as an excuse, but really, I just love TV and I’m not ashamed. I love coming home with nothing to do, getting into jammies and snuggle up on the couch with a cocktail or glass of wine and the DVR busting at the seems. Although I love a lot of shows (Mad Men, Modern Family, Entourage to name a few…), I will only take a bullet for one show. Friday Night Lights.

I started watching this show after I first moved to Los Angeles at the urging of two of my guy friends. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Pre-football season that year, catching up on past seasons of FNL was my home away from home. This show IS Texas. It looks like it, it sounds like it…it even tastes like it. It had me wishing to tattoo TEXAS FOREVER on my rear end.

It specifically embodies high school football in Texas. It is a religion. When you’re in high school, on a Friday night in the fall, whether 100 degrees or snowing, you’re suiting up on the field, on the sidelines with pom poms, in the stands with a trumpet or wearing a drill team uniform, or your just there to watch. Regardless of why you’re there…you’re there. There is a joke in some towns that property values go up the closer you are to the high school football field.

But you don’t have to be a football fan of any shape or size to get this show. That is just how it’s Texasness sucked me in to begin with. Above all else, this show is…it’s REAL. I triple dog dare you to get where we’re currently at in the series without thinking that Connie Britton (Mrs. Coach) and Kyle Chandler (Coach) aren’t a real couple. In my brain, there is a cozy house in the middle of West Texas with “Welcome to the Taylors” written on the doorstep, home of a high school principal and a high school football coach. You can visibly SEE the chemistry between these two…and it’s gorgeous.

I dare the ladies not to the fall in love with Riggins, the guys not to fall for Lyla. I dare everyone not to get caught up in Julie and Matt’s aura of first love. Right now I dare everyone not to want to go out and buy a Dillon East Vince Howard jersey. I dare you not to sit down and have an anxiety attack before each show.

Most of all, I dare you not to find that its addictiveness and AWESOMENESS are palpable. I dare you not to believe clear eyes and full hearts can’t lose.

P.S. another good post about the nod, from one of my Twitter followers, here.

So both of my teams suck right now. It hurts bad. So bad. Please note that I know I’m spoiled. Luckily, the Stars had five days off (and beat beat those nasty birds down at The Pond last night, which is good because it was their first game within the division) and the Cowboys are on a much needed bye this weekend (and I will be on a much needed No Sports Bars on Sunday break). I do hope all players get rested, recovered, refreshed, laid, drunk, fixed…whatever it takes to get MY LIFE back on track. Because, after all, this is about me.

The schedule tells me the Giants and Eagles play this weekend. Whoever wins, I lose. Sigh.

Me and Cathalee

In the spirit of being optimistic and remembering the somewhat good times, I am finally posting pictures of the Cowboys/Bengals game I went to while in Dallas last month. My last game in Texas Stadium. And although it should’ve been a blowout (and wasn’t), was the second game where things started looking…off and I was exhausted as hell from two nights of drinking my way through my high school reunion, it was WONDERFUL. Remember the last TD where the ball went through my boyfriend’s Miles Austin’s hands right into Patrick Crayton’s in the end zone? That was our corner, I was right above it. It was AMAZING. The Bengals fan behind me goes “you’ve got to be f*cking kidding me.” I told my friend Eric this over text, to which he responds “turn around and go ‘you know this is Texas Stadium, right? The hole in the ceiling? So God can watch .’”

And so humble, too.

Thoughts about the Texas Stadium crowd: I didn’t know so much white trash was allowed to convene in one place; the best taunt goes to the dude in front of us who kept yelling out “a Bengal tiger is a gay tiger”; and the best pick-up line goes to the rather drunk fella (seriously, he was falling asleep sitting up, halfway through the 3rd quarter) sitting on the other side of my friend Cathalee, who told her her glasses were hot and made her look “specstual”. Can’t make that up, kids.

Cathalee’s camera pretty much rules, by the way. Some of these pictures look like I could reach out and slap Romo. Which, lately…

Anyway, enjoy. And P.S. I hate you NFL Network. Apparently you’re just too good for me and my cable. Bloody DirecTV, with its fancy NFL and NHL Networks and having the monopoly on Tim Riggins until January. Whatever.

P.P.S What is going on here? Greece is stealing basketball players (which reminds me, must follow basketball) and Russia is stealing hockey players? I’ve been trying to steal hockey players for years…glad someone figured it out.

..Continue reading..

Only one pain-inducing, long, long week to go.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhH8-ytao0Y]

Pajiba managed to sum up best how I feel about this show:

“What’s also remarkable about “Friday Night Lights” is its candid depiction of the South. It doesn’t glorify nor denigrate it; “FNL” just lays it out honestly, ass warts and all. Certainly, there is an abundance of racism, sexism, homophobia, alcoholism, backwards thinking, and narrow-minded religious zealotry. But Southerners are also loyal (always to a fault), generous, and infinitely kind-hearted. After all, beneath that red neck, most Southern men have the hearts of their Southern Momma, a woman that’d make a pie to feed the world if she had enough time. There’s so much to hate when you’re living in the South, but when you’re no longer there, there’s also just as much you miss. And on a weekly basis, “FNL” captures that conflicted spirit.”