A review of the penultimate “Friday Night Lights” of season four (finale airing next Wednesday at 9 on DirecTV’s 101 Network) coming up just as soon as I drive 50 miles to deliver this blog post… “I am not playing on a fair field here.” -Coach “That makes two of us, hon.” -Mrs. Coach On one level, “Laboring” is a table-setting episode, preparing us for the season-climaxing showdown between East and West Dillon, for a reckoning between Tami and the school board, for whatever’s to come between Vince and Kennard, and between the Riggins boys and the cops. But, like season one’s penultimate hour, “Best Laid Plans” (with trouble swirling around the Panthers on the eve of the state championship), “Laboring” was a table-setter that brought a lot to the table on its own: great moments for half the cast and some huge developments in their own right, regardless of how things play out in the finale. There’s a real sense of despair to a lot of what happens, particularly with the Taylors. Eric knows he doesn’t have much of a prayer of beating the Panthers(*) under optimal conditions, and those conditions are now far, far from optimal. Luke is out of the game, which limits his offensive weapons to, basically Vince, and takes away most of the gadget plays that were working so well earlier in the season. And because the Panthers had to use a bazooka as a fly-swatter to respond to Landry’s toothpick prank, the Panthers get to play the game on their cushy home field, with the Lions and their fledgling fan base forced to feel like pathetic outsiders in a game that should have been theirs. (*) And, it occurs to me, if he were to win that game, the people in town would only grow to hate him more . Panther pride runs a little too deep for people to applaud the plucky underdog school across town for an unlikely victory, if that victory also keeps the beloved Panthers out of the playoffs. And Eric has to deal with this - and the idiot radio calls(**) and defacing of his car and the rest - at the same time Tami has developed her own hate squad thanks to the abortion controversy. “FNL” in general, and Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton in particular, often offer up a ray of hope and idealism in the middle of potentially grim circumstances, but here our most hopeful characters were at their most hopeless. Tami doesn’t want to write that letter of apology(***), but can she put her ideals ahead of her family’s livelihood? (**) I thought it was a nice touch that Slammin’ Sammy, usually just as much a pig-headed yahoo as his listeners, tried to shut down that one caller’s attempt to paint East Dillon as a ghetto hellhole she wouldn’t take her family to. Sammy be an ignoramus and an agitator in many ways, but that doesn’t automatically make him a bigot. (***) And would the apology letter even work? Given how dug-in the opposition seems to be, wouldn’t Tami apologizing (for something she didn’t do) only make matters worse? I don’t know small town politics very well, but isn’t the wiser course for Tami to argue that at no point did she tell Becky to get an abortion? Which has the benefit of being true? While the Taylors are trapped in bleak circumstance, it’s up to the Riggins boys to provide some hope and happiness - for a little while. After some comic relief from Billy failing to be calm about the birth, we get this perfect moment with the two brothers at home, staring down at the baby, and Tim (wonderfully played by Taylor Kitsch) getting to appreciate the site of a Riggins man being a good daddy for once. Of course, a Riggins man’s happiness can never last very long. So after Tim got to enjoy being an uncle, and showing his new ranch property to Becky, he winds up going to jail, along with Billy, for the chop shop operation. (The large wad of cash Tim gave the realtor surely didn’t help.) And will little baby Stephen Hannibal suddenly have to go years without seeing his daddy? With Taylor Kitsch not being a regular after this season, I could see a circumstance in which Tim and Billy do go away for a while, and if we see Tim at all in season five, it’ll be with Coach talking to him through prison glass. Meanwhile, Vince was busy burying the man (boy, really) responsible for drawing the Riggins boys (back) into a life of crime, and then being sucked into Kennard’s plan for revenge at any cost. And Jess, realizing what her ex is about to risk, fights to stop him from doing just that, even if she has to ditch Landry in the process. As with most “FNL” stories related to the criminal world, Vince’s plot was the part of the episode that most bordered on cliche. But every time it threatened to get silly or caricatured, Michael B. Jordan and Jurnee Smollett dragged it back into something real and painful, as exemplified by the scene where Jess shows up at Vince’s apartment to tell him, “I know that good guy that’s inside of you!” To which Vince (desperate to keep Jess away from him as he goes on a mission that could land him in jail or the morgue) replies, “I am a monster! That’s what I am! I am that guy!” That dialogue could be terribly corny, bu these two superb young actors made me ignore the words being spoken and focus on the pain, hurt and love behind them. Thanks to Jess, Vince makes the right decision in the end, but he does it in a way that puts him in the sights of Kennard (who feels like Vince owes him this killing for the rehab loan). And it occurs to me that, because Kennard was the mastermind behind the whole car theft ring, we could see a finale in which Tim

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Friday Night Lights, "Laboring": Toothpicking against the spread