Coach Eric Taylor continues to struggle to win over his new team.

For Buddy Garritty, the love affair ended. For Eric Taylor, the truth blindsided him.

Just another week in Dillon, Texas.

Taylor knew the odds were stacked against him. Taking over at a new school with no funding, no support and no talent, he knew he was a million miles away from his days atop the heap as head coach of the Dillon Panthers.

Still, he saw it as just another challenge that his confidence, no, his arrogance would help him meet. But it was his arrogance that left him staggered when his new principal finally told him the truth.

“You weren’t even supposed to take this job,” East Dillon Principal Burnwell told Taylor. “You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re the only one who didn’t get the joke.”

Ouch.

To have your life’s work dismissed so bluntly and learn it was all a joke, a joke that you alone were not in on is as harsh as it gets.

So where do you go from there? Well, if you’re Taylor, you swallow your pride and ask others for help, you write checks that you know you can’t cover and you spend nights lying awake.

In “In the Skin of a Lion” Taylor is only getting out from the hole he dug by forfeiting his team’s first game. Now he’s faced with needing new uniforms after he led his team in burning the old unis in a show of solidarity. Taylor resorts to gimmicks – the team pushes a car down a city street while seeking donations – to begging for help from a boss who cuts to the chase by saying “let’s see if we can finish the games before we start writing checks.”

Buddy, meanwhile, continues to question his love of the Dillon Panthers. He arrives late to the Panthers’ booster meeting where Evil Joe McCoy delights in East Dillon’s opening game forfeit. McCoy asks Buddy if he’s the one who caused the Panthers to lose Luke Cafferty to East Dillon. Buddy denies the charge and points out that he was a Panther before anyone else at the table. McCoy, meanwhile, moves on to a bigger challenge, namely the scouting of a local 13-year-old quarterback.

What’s not surprising is the booster club’s interest in a 13-year-old. What’s surprising is that they waited until he was that old before scouting him.

Matt, meanwhile, struggles with Richard Sherman, the local artist whose work, according to a review read by Julie, is “brilliant, visceral and ultimately ethereal.” Matt doesn’t see it. All he sees is an angry, abusive idiot. Matt chauffeurs Richard on a 400-mile round trip to pick up crap that Richard believes can be turned into art crap. Richard tells Matt that the most important tool an artist can have is selfishness. He explains that artists have to put aside love, God and life to survive.

“Screw everyone else, and maybe you have a chance,” Richard tells his protégée, a philosophy, I believe, was borrowed from Yoda.

Eric meets with the Under Armor salesman, who knocks two grand off his bill, leaving Eric to write a personal check for $3,000. Tami notices the missing check and asks her husband, who lies and said he spent $45 on dry cleaning.

After a night spent seeking athletic donations ended with an extended stay at a local bar, Eric arrives home drunk and honest, which is an awfully bad combination. The moral of the story is don’t write a check you can’t cover, then don’t lie to your spouse about it. Finally, and most importantly, if you do the previous two, don’t get toasted, grow a conscious and then yell at your spouse.

Who needs a marriage counselor when you have me, your humble blogger, dispensing invaluable advice?

Though he considers himself “a hands man,” Landry tackles punting, with frightening results. When a 10-year-old tells you “Um, the ball is supposed to go straight,” well, you need help. The help, surprisingly, comes in the form of Zen-like instructions from Jess, which immediately reap impressive results.

Taylor visits Cafferty on the family ranch, where his new running back tells him he will do anything to escape Dillon. Taylor promises he will do all he can to help him achieve his dream if Cafferty will take on a leadership role on the team.

Buddy goes to a party at Evil Joe’s, where boosters talk about McCoy getting back at Tami for her role in Caffertygate. Disgusted, Buddy announces that he is done with the Dillon Panthers and admits he told Taylor about the mailbox, which he himself put in 12 years ago. Before leaving he gets in one last shot at the Panthers — “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.”

Yo, go, Buddy!

Riggins acts as a matchmaker between Becky and Luke. Who knew that Cupid would have long hair, be an extremely slow talker, be perpetually hung over and have a propensity to throw college textbooks out of speeding pickup trucks?

With no new uniforms, the Lions are resigned to wearing practice uniforms in their second game when they find brand-spanking new unis and helmets in their locker room. The cherry red unis are sweet, as are the white helmets, although the numbers on the helmets are a little too Crimson Tide-ish.

The Lions shake off the forfeit by actually making it nearly through a whole game, though they still trail 27-0 with 30 seconds remaining.

As much as I like Lights and praise it’s authenticity when it comes to football scenes, sometimes it stretches credibility. It does so here with the opposing team throwing the ball with a four-touchdown lead with less than a minute remaining instead of simply running out the clock.

That said, it does make for a compelling ending when Cafferty has a chance at returning an interception for a score, only to not receive a crucial block by Vince. Desperate to gain a small victory by scoring points, any points, Taylor sends in Landry, who does his best Garo Yepremian, although this time the pass goes to the right team, and Vince scores on the last play of the game, leaving even Principal Burnwell cheering.

At home, Tami tells her husband that he should sleep well tonight, knowing his team showed a little heart in their second game. Makes sense in theory, but when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders in the form of a bad football team and — to borrow from the Boss, debts that no honest man can pay – sleep is as elusive as victory.