Title: The End Zone 1/X

Author: Romantique

Email:

Classification: Taylor Family Drama/Angst

Rating: T for some language.

Summary: WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH. This is but one scenario I have always seen as a possible ending to this wonderful television series. (Of course, there are many others ... and maybe I'll write some of those, too.) This fan fiction takes place after Season 5 but was written before Season 5, Episode 4 aired on either Direct TV or NBC.

Disclaimer:

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.

end zone:

A 10-yard section stretching the width of the field at both ends of the playing field.

Julie Taylor sat in the front row of her family's church, vacantly staring straight ahead, vaguely aware of the random coughs and foot scuffing coming from various members of the congregation and guests. Within her field of vision, one particular floral arrangement, placed next to the pulpit, caught her eye. She fixated on its crimson blooms, using it in an attempt to tether her thoughts, as they drifted to days gone by and places near and far ... to anywhere but the here and now.

She watched her young life in review, random pictures of places she had lived, schools she had attended. Images of friends she had made, and left behind, filtered through her thoughts. Past bedroom themes of dolphins, Kimberly the Pink Power Ranger, and pink ballerinas came to mind. And then, her thoughts rushed to Dillon, Texas. To when she first arrived with her family, and how she didn't want to be there. She clearly remembered how she hated the idea of living in the small, red-neck town that was void of culture. She remembered how she hated moving over and over again, because of her Dad's job.

After a time, a sudden, rising flurry of sounds filled the great room followed by a sudden, hush, and then, silence. Pastor Rick emerged front and center, donned in full robes, to take his place behind the lectern. His entrance abruptly brought Julie back to the here and now, back to Dillon, Texas, some seven years later. There was no way to put this off any longer.

Along with everyone else, Julie stood on cue and turned to face the back of the church. The arrival of the flower draped casket flanked by head pallbearers Brian "Smash" Williams and Matt Saracen stole her breath, as if she had been punched in the stomach. She swayed off balance and leaned into her quietly sobbing mother who stood beside her. Julie reached down and grabbed her mother's hand and held on tight. Their joined hands shook. Julie couldn't tell if it was her hand that was shaking, her mother's, or both.

Taken by how much older and bigger both Matt and Smash looked than Julie remembered, next, Tim Riggins and Landry Clark emerged through the door at the back of the church in the center casket positions. Vince Howard and Luke Cafferty were positioned at the foot, and Jason Street followed closely behind in his wheelchair, almost as the protective elder guard.

The young men slowly made their way towards the front of the church with a great dignity and reverence. The stoic look on their faces was noticeably forced. Not a single one of them ever believed in a million years they would be there that day, in this place, for this reason. It took every bit of their collective strength to hold it together, and yet, by the grace of God and out of respect for him, they did.

Directly behind Jason Street, the coaching staffs, past and present of both East Dillon and Dillon High Schools began to file into the church, followed by past and present team members of both the town's high schools. Each of the pallbearers, coaches, and team members wore a purple boutonnière on their lapel to symbolize the peaceful merging of the Panthers' Blue and Lions' Red colors on this most solemn occasion.

Mac Macgill and Coaches Crowley, Spivey, Traub, and Billy Riggins led the pack of players. The look on each of their faces mirrored the same lost, solemn look of the pall bearers. It was at that moment that Julie couldn't help but notice that everyone looked markedly older today.

The casket was carried down the aisle to the front of the church where it was carefully placed on its stand. A blanket of white roses covered the mahogany casket, surrounded by sprays of fragrant blossoms in every hue. Tami Taylor pulled out another tissue from the packet clenched tightly in her free hand, as tears streamed down her face. Julie squeezed her mother's hand even tighter, her eyes following the coaches and pallbearers as they took their respective seats in 'Reserved' rows of pews. She paid particular interest to Matt Saracen. He stoically sat down on the other side of the aisle next to his grandmother and his mother, Shelby Saracen. His eyes appeared hollow; his face was pained and ashen. Grandma Saracen sobbed, beside herself in grief. Her beloved grandson, Matt, was unable, emotionally unavailable to comfort her. It was all he could do to hold himself together. Picking up on her son's demeanor, Shelby, who sat on the other side of Matt's grandmother, put her arm around her former mother-in-law and tried to quietly console her.

Once all the men found their way to their seats, the rest of the congregation began to be seated.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Eric Taylor, and to lay our brother to rest as he makes the journey to his final resting place, on earth and in Heaven," Pastor Rick's soothing and familiar voice echoed throughout the church that was filled beyond capacity, leaving standing room only, outside the doors.

Julie noticed that Mayor Lucy Rodelle was there, as well as school district officials and administrators, referees, and Pop Warner coaches and players. TMU Coach Boyd, Coach Deeks, Sammy Meade, some off duty members of the press, members of the County Sheriff's Department, teachers, as well as Texas State Football Commission officials and opponent high school coaches Eric had played against over the years from throughout the Great State of Texas. They all came to pay their respects.

"A loving and devoted husband and partner to his wife Tami, loving and adoring father to his daughters Julie and Grace, beloved and respected coach to more young men than most of us would ever have the opportunity to meet much less really get to know. Eric was an honorable man, a good man, a strong man ... a caring teacher, exemplary colleague, loyal friend, a giving and generous member of our community and this congregation. He was an example to be emulated in every walk of life. Never rich in money or its earthly trappings, Eric Taylor was rich in heart. He was one-of-a-kind, a needed blessing to the town of Dillon ... one of God's miracles. Tami Taylor shared with me that her husband was always a teacher first and a molder of men. He constantly wrestled with doing what was right, and what was right for his football team. And if he ever erred, he erred on the side of God and what was right. And when we err on the side of God and what is right, we can never be wrong."

All eyes were on the casket, on Pastor Rick.

He continued, "Notice how I used the word, 'his' football team? He personally took responsibility for each and every young man who ever played ball for him.

Eric wasn't a perfect man. He could be stubborn; he admitted to struggling with pride. He could become angry; he could yell at his students and football players; he could even get himself ejected from a game for losing his temper. Yet despite his few shortcomings, one harsh, disapproving glare from Eric Taylor could bore a hole into your soul. Being on the other side of that glare was so very uncomfortable, but never because of a fear of Eric. It was due to a fear of being a disappointment to this man. He walked in such big, tall shoes that it could be intimidating to come up short in his eyes. Yet when we would fall short in his eyes, he would always be the first one to encourage us to get back up on that horse and try it again, and again. And he would be the first one to cheer for us when we did try again. And when we didn't or couldn't get back up on that horse, he took it personal, really personal. He took it to be his failure, not ours."

Anyone who knew Eric could relate to what the pastor was saying. The essence of his sermon shot straight to the heart. Sniffling and soft sobbing could be heard from men and women alike behind Julie, as well as from her distraught mother beside her. Julie placed her free hand on top of her mom's while continuing to hold on tight with the other.

After a time, Julie reached for the program that was made for her father. It contained pictures of him, his family, and his teams. Some of his most inspirational coaching quotations were listed. It was very nicely done. She then glanced at the order of the service. Listed next in the program were the eulogies. Buddy Garrity had asked, or rather convinced, her mother to allow him to say a few words. Tami agreed because she knew Buddy had taken Eric's death extremely hard, and that the man truly adored her husband.

Pastor Rick concluded his opening remarks and led everyone in prayer. Next, the larger-than-life Booster approached the lectern and spoke into the microphone.

"Eric Taylor was my friend," Buddy began, his huge voice boomed through the church's acoustics. "At first, he really didn't want to become friends with me, and I knew that. I'm the one who pursued and cultivated the friendship much to his dismay, much to Tami's dismay ... because Eric was such a good, decent, and talented man. Just to be in his presence, in his light, was a privilege and a joy to me. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of his goodness and decency and talent would rub off on me.

As most of you know, I used to play football, and even though Eric was my friend, he never stopped being a coach. As a former player, I responded to that in him. Just as with his players, Eric always made me want to be a better man ... to be more like him."

Buddy looked down. "Look at me. I'm a sinner. I eat too much, I drink too much. I committed adultery and lost my family." Then, he looked up. "Eric was an example as a husband, a father, a citizen of this town who I could only aspire to be. He led by example. And he cared. He was always onto me, encouraging me to take better care of my family and of myself. That's why he took up playing golf with me, to get me out in the fresh air, walking on the course. Being a winning football coach, Eric surely didn't need the extra exercise; and being a busy family man, he really didn't have the time. But he did that ... for me." The large man became choked up with emotion. "I love Eric like a brother, and I will miss him ... so much." Buddy's voice cracked. "I'm sorry." He shook his head, as he simply could not go on. Red faced with emotion, he stepped down from the lectern and walked over to Tami, who stood and embraced the large broken man.

"I know," she whispered through her tears, clearly touched by Buddy's sincerity.

Buddy kissed Tami on the cheek and grabbed both of her hands and gave them a firm squeeze, while digging down deep to try and compose his self. Then, he bent down and hugged Julie. Julie, too, was touched by what he said about her father. For the very first time, she caught a glimpse of what her Dad had seen in this man.

As Buddy returned to his seat with the coaches and players, Jason Street pushed himself in his wheelchair and took his position near the casket. He placed his hand on the top of it, bowed his head, and said a silent prayer. Then, Pastor Rick handed Jason the microphone. To Julie, Jason also looked noticeably older than the last time she'd seen him.

"Coach Taylor and I have been on a long, long journey together. You could even say that we've been to hell and back. Along with my family and my wife Erin, Coach has been right there with me during the biggest challenges of my life. And while my parents can be my parents, and my wife can be my wife, and I value them very, very much ... Coach has been my reality check for anything I've wanted to do ... whether it was professional or personal. Just as with so many of you out there today, Coach told me I could do whatever I set my mind to. He believed in me so that I could believe in myself. I have so much respect for this man that I have to respect his belief in me. To not try and hone my God-given talents would be a sin. Coach taught me that.

I'm not ready to lose him. None of us ... are ready ... to lose him. God must have needed him bad right now to coach the biggest championship game ever, up in Heaven. Every person here today is better for having known him. This world is a much better place because he was here, and he left a piece of himself inside every single one of us. We can honor him by giving our best effort every day, and by giving the most of ourselves to our fellow man. Because that is what he did ... every single day of his life, here on earth."

Jason swallowed down the big lump in his throat, as he handed the microphone to Pastor Rick and wheeled his chair towards his coach's tear-stained wife. Tami stood, bent down, and hugged Jason, followed by Julie. For the first time since her father died, tears welled in Julie's eyes and spilled into tears. Thanks to Jason Street, it was the first time she was finally able to allow her feelings to show.

To be continued ...