Smash (to Grady): Look, no disrespect, sir. I just want to say flat out. If you got a list, I don't just want to be on it. I want to be number one.
Grady: Well I hope you can play as good as you talk. Now's your time, son. Show me what you got.
Smash: Thank You. (shakes Grady's hand)
Coach Taylor (to the team): All right, listen up! Listen, now. Y'all ought to be real proud of yourselves. That was a hell of an effort tonight. That was a hell of a game. I don't know how in the hell, he did or where he came from to do, or what have you, but I know who this game ball goes to. (cheering) (hands the football to Tim) That was one hell of a game. All of y'all, that was one hell of a game!
'Billy: Here. (tosses a beer can to Tim)
Tim: I'm good. (tosses the beer can back to Billy)
Billy: Dude, night cap, Sportscenter.
Tim: I quit.
Billy: You quit? (scoffs) Since when?
Tim: Since now
Billy: (laughing) Sure you did.
Tim: Waste of friggin' time, huh?
Lyla: Look, I know you hate me right now, and I understand
Tim: I don't hate you, Lyla. It'd be a lot easier if I did.
Lyla: I don't know how to talk to you when you're like this. I mean, God it's not even 7 o'clock and you can barely stand. You can blame me if you want, Tim. You can blame the whole world for all I care, but if you think being drunk all the time is gonna make this any easier, you're wrong. It's not cool or charming. It's just pathetic and gross and I feel sorry for you. I really do.
Tim: Lyla.

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