Over the past decade there
might not have has not been a better show on TV than “Friday Night Lights.”
I watched every single episode of that show as it aired and during that time, I swear I lived and died with the highs and lows of Coach Eric Taylor and the Dillon Panthers, and later the East Dillon Lions.
I just never knew what was going to happen next. Would they win state? Would Jason Street every fully recover from his injury? Would Coach and Tammy Taylor survive as a couple after creepy Glen stole a kiss from Tammy?
I just never knew, so I my emotions were constantly in flux. But of course, that’s what made it a great show.
“Friday Night Lights” is still my go-to when everything else on Netflix turns up “Spanglish.” I won’t hesitate to dive into some random season and catch up with Tim and Billy Riggins or Matt Saracen.
But it’s different now. I know the outcome, I know the final score of the multiple state title games and I know the future for jerk-face J.D. McCoy.
It’s still enjoyable, but there’s no worrying or fretting left to do because I know the final score.
Two years ago around this time of year I visited a church on what they called, “Holy Hilarity Sunday.” Their whole service was nutty that day. I’m talking Hawaiian shirts, people blowing bubbles during the services, and rubber chickens popping up nutty.
Their preacher explained to me that the whole idea of the day was to celebrate how hilarious it was for Satan to think Jesus would stay dead.
There wasn’t a sermon, but there definitely was a message — scoreboard.
Jesus 1, death 0. No take backs. No re-match.
I thought, and still think, that’s a fabulous perspective to maintain.
To be honest, there are a lot times when my life feels like I’m living in the three quarter and down three touchdowns. Maybe a couple field goals sometimes too.
There are a lot of times I look at my situation and forget, I’ve already seen how this whole deal shakes out. I already know about the fourth-quarter rally and the killer after-party that’s being organized as we speak.
I won’t lie, this week’s had a few of those moments, and not just for me, but also for a lot of people around me.
Not even a week removed from celebrating Jesus’ empty tomb, I’ve already somehow let the final score slip from my mind. Perhaps I’m not alone.
That’s ignorant of me to do.
I mean, I should be living it up like young Biff Tannen and that book of sport scores in “Back to the Future II,” right? I know the winner, and the loser, so I should be planning accordingly.
Granted, it’s not always easy to see past the third quarter of life. Heck, sometimes it’s not easy to see past one awful play.
But no matter how much my life feels we’re down in the third, we should find peace in knowing the game’s already been won.