So last year I caught the leaked pilot of Friday Night Lights before it aired. I instantly fell head-over-heels in love with it, and not just because I’m from Texas and the show’s set in the fictional West Texas town of Dillon.

When all the shows took their Christmas hiatus, NBC shamefully decided to shift FNL to a different time slot. I didn’t have TiVo then, and I was already watching something else. I always said I’d catch up on the remaining 12 episodes of the season online, but I never did.

Then NBC, against all odds and showing that they sometimes have some common sense, reupped FNL for a second season. I got excited but I hadn’t made plans to watch because I still haven’t seen the rest of Season 1 and I haven’t gotten the DVDs.

Well, I watched the season finale online this afternoon, and it was spectacular. This show is SO realistic. Look, as I said in my first FNL blog, high school football is a bit of a religion here. I don’t always understand it, but you can’t help but get caught up in the adrenaline of it all. And I’ll definitely be the first to say I’m not a fan of the Dallas Cowboys because adorable Tony Romo or no, Jerry Jones is a ginormous ASSHAT and I still haven’t forgiven him for firing Tom Landry. (I’d like to think that the character of Landry is a little bit of a tribute, but I’m sure I’m just making that up.)

Still, I got chills as I watched the fictional Dillon Panthers ride up to Texas Stadium, home of the Cowboys, for their state championship game, and I got a little teary-eyed as I watched Smash and Matt Saracen and Riggins gaze almost in wonder at their names printed above their lockers.

It brought back memories of my senior year in high school. Our team was actually good that year and made it all the way to the state semifinals. My group of friends and I went to every away game — my mom drove us in her suburban every weekend. Looking back at that, I realize what she did was a sacrifice, because we played the music we wanted to play, we had our own little conversations, and we always sat in the student section while she sat by herself. (And now I’ve just started getting choked up. Am I going through freaking MENOPAUSE?)

The state semifinal was played in the Astrodome in Houston, and so it was like deja vu when they showed that first shot of the field underneath the massive dome at Texas Stadium. I felt like I was walking into the Astrodome all over again.

Anyway. But let me echo again that Friday Night Lights is not a sports show. The only resemblance it bears to the movie of the same name is its title. The characters really resonate. They’re real. They make you connect with them.

And now that I’ve seen a bit more of last season, I can vigorously agree with all critics and fans with, you know, a brain that Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton were seriously screwed over at the stupid, fraktastically irrelevant Emmys. They are why I watch this show.

So I’m tuning into the Season 2 premiere tonight, and I encourage you to do the same. Even if you haven’t seen a single episode. (Although I would encourage you to check out the pilot, online for free at NBC.com, because it is one of the best TV pilots I have *ever* seen.)

In closing, I’ll leave you with Matt Roush’s column from today. He says things so much better than I do, which obviously didn’t stop me from rambling. Sorry.

It’s Friday. Keep the Lights On
(Taken from Matt Roush’s Roush Dispatch.)

What more can its devoted critics say about NBC’s Friday Night Lights except to celebrate the fact that it’s back for a second season, which means it has already beaten the odds, at least for now. Not that the odds aren’t still incredibly steep for this eternal underdog in its new Friday time period: 9 pm/ET, when many of those who might savor this wonderful drama’s small-town football backdrop are out enjoying their own high school football matches this time of year. No matter how you watch it — in real time, in your own time via recording or online viewing — you really don’t want to miss it.

Friday Night Lights is powerfully entertaining drama, and returning to Dillon, Texas, is like going home again. The characters are instantly familiar as they recapture your heart, especially the Taylors. That would be Coach Eric and wife Tami, unhappily maintaining a long-distance relationship as he adjusts to a new college job while Tami copes with a new baby and their increasingly difficult teenage daughter Julie, who has begun to feel trapped in her relationship with nice-guy quarterback Matt Saracen.

As Eric and Tami, Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton nail every scene, establishing the most adult and perfectly imperfect married relationship TV has seen in ages. Their love is unquestioned, but they are exhausted, stressed, worried and confused about how to fix what circumstances have broken. When Eric is called back to work earlier than expected after he comes home to help with the new baby, his regret is mirrored in his wife’s silent anguish. As Tami tries (and ultimately fails) to keep her composure in the face of this disappointment, Britton’s performance is achingly real. As is Chandler’s, when he finally gets some quality face time with his angry daughter, Julie (a superb Aimee Teegarden), and assures her that no matter how many mistakes she makes and whatever she decides regarding Matt, and no matter how far away his job takes him, she is still loved.

Once again, Zach Gilford as Matt Saracen is heartbreakingly fine, whether coping with his romantic setbacks, tending to his mentally addled granny or acting as a reluctant mentor for his nerdy pal Landry (the hilarious Jesse Plemons, coming into his own as a leading character this season), who’s nervously wooing the bombshell Tyra (Adrienne Palicki) while protecting her from an insistent, scary stalker. Spoiler alert The dark place to which this storyline takes this unlikely couple has already rattled many fans and critics with its melodramatic excess, but the actors pull it off with raw conviction. If you’re not rooting for Landry and Tyra to survive this unfortunate subplot, you’re not human.

Being a realist, I’m not entirely thrown by the notion that once in a while even a show as authentic as Friday Night Lights is going to need to succumb to a contrived only-on-TV cliff-hanger storyline. After all, this isn’t a documentary, and I’ve often worried that in all the raves we give this show, we might make it sound too much like it’s good for you, like it’s medicine. Which it isn’t. Friday Night Lights is also great entertainment: sudsy, sexy and funny while also working one’s tear ducts into overflow.

I was actually more put off by the subplot that finds pouty princess Lila (Minka Kelly) literally immersed in religion to ease the disappointments of last season (her ex-boyfriend Jason’s crippling injury, her parents’ split). I don’t object to her embracing Jesus and joining a super-church — in fact, it makes perfect sense and is the sort of life choice you too rarely find in prime-time TV — but a scene in which she lectures her mom and new boyfriend midprayer feels overwritten in a way that’s rare for a show that typically traffics in subtle understatement.

What I’m getting at here is an admission that Friday Night Lights isn’t perfect. But it is sublime. No show moves or impresses me more from episode to episode, and I cherish the fact that for at least one hour a week, network TV is shining a light on ordinary people made extraordinary by the level of acting, writing and piercingly intimate direction. If one of the subplots this season borders on film noir cheese, it’s not cheaply tossed off, as subsequent episodes dramatize the emotional consequences of good characters making a stupefying decision in the heat of a crisis.

And for those who actually like the football part of the show? That’s also terrific this season, as a bull-headed new coach alienates most of the team in order to glorify the hot-dogging Smash (Gaius Charles). How this conflict explodes on the field in the third episode is riveting, and it sets the stage for more pivotal life-changing moments in the lives of some of TV’s most beloved characters.

Regardless of how the new night and the subsequent ratings play out, Friday Night Lights is a champ all the way, scoring one thrilling dramatic touchdown after another.

Watch it and weep. Miss it and we’ll weep for you.