And it's over. The best show that has ever been on television. The best one hour drama, anyway. There I said it. It is the best. I don't care about the fact that it's been on and off the air a gazillion times since its inception. I don't care that audiences haven't quite known what to make of this earnest but never sappy family affair. Is it about football? Is it about life? Both dummy. Figure it out. It's about football giving meaning to lives in Texas. It's about football as a metaphor. It's about giving everything and sometimes getting nothing back. It's about perfect moments that sometimes don't lead to perfect lives. It's about marriage and friendship and potential that doesn't always turn into progress or prosperity.
What a satisfying finale. Emotional, intelligent, wrapped up but not too neatly. Self referential - so many circles tied back to the first episode. But open and surprising at the same time. All of our beloved characters were back (except, notably, Lyla Garrity, who arguably, was the least liked character). Mattie, Riggins, Tyra, we even caught a glimpse of Landry - though not with Tyra - with Matt, one of the moments that suggested that some things never change. These two yahoos acting dumb and clueless in the garage.
I started out thinking, I'm not even emotional. Look at me, not even crying. Maybe I've gotten more stable in the last few months since I started watching this show. Hah. As soon as Matt asked Julie to marry him - stupid dumb ass teenagers - I wept. "Wept" is a misnomer for what I did. My face crinkled up, folded in on itself and I choked on my own sobs. Why? These two shouldn't get married! They're 18 and 19 for God's sake! But the sweetness of the belief in first love was more than I could bear. I want to believe too! After that I didn't stop crying. So basically I cried once. And it lasted the entire show. It escalated at critical moments, sometimes unexpectedly - when Coach tells Riggins he can ask him for anything, when Becca tells Riggins "I'm finally over my crush. Friends?" "Family," he replies. (I don't even like Becca.) Tyra and Tim dancing at Buddy's bar. Coach and Tami hugging outside the restaurant after she tells him, without hope that he might listen: "It's my turn." And, of course, later, when he concedes: "It's your turn. I want to go to Philadelphia. Will you take me to Philadelphia with you?" That killed me. He didn't say: "I'll go to Philadelphia." He said he wanted to. And he asked if she'd take him because he knew he'd fucked up. Gimme some of that man.
The Taylors are better than me. Better than me and my almost ex-husband. If we were half as good we wouldn't be soon to be exes. I got mad and resentful that I felt boxed in by his narrow and ever more restricting requirements. I showed no moderation or influence, as Tami does, in expressing my frustration. And he showed no remorse or willingness to compromise. And here we are. God, I love the Taylors. Tami - you are my hero. Eric - you are my soulmate. And yes - I am nuts.
This episode surpassed my former all time favorite finale - Six Feet Under. That one left me with a crying hangover for a week. I was exhausted from the truth of it all. This one leaves me wanting more. I want to know what happens next. These people feel like my friends. How will Vince do in college? Will he make it? I know the Taylors will fare well in Philadelphia. Will Tim and Tyra make maybe into yes one day? Her in local politics, him fixing cars and building houses always with a cold beer in his hand, always satisfied and always proud of his beautiful, driven wife who has loved him since she was 5 years old? What is going to happen? I get to remember them as young and beautiful and hopeful, not beaten down and angry and divorced. I love that. Though I long for just a little more time with the Dillon-ites, I recognize it ended at the perfect time. Everyone, with clear eyes and full hearts...and of course, we know that means, they can't lose. No matter what happens.
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