VICE Sports will be recapping the new reality television series Very Cavallari to specifically highlight the goings on of former NFL quarterback Jay Cutler because above all else, we love and cherish Jay Cutler. Find all our coverage, which we hope to continue from now until the end of time, right here.
The big ticket on Jay Cutler’s agenda this week is whether or not Kristin will agree to move to a new house he found, way out in the country. Because I’ve never watched him in his profession I have no idea if he was this dogged as an athlete, but if he felt one ounce of the passion toward football as he does for realty, he surely would have been a sight. Cutler’s psychic determination really comes through in this ep, no doubt honed by years of watching as an oblong brown ball flew to and away from him. Will he win? Does Jay Cutler ever lose?
Jay emerges from the Tuscan villa he’s grown bored of to find his front lawn and walkway covered in frolicking goats of all ages. His brow is not visible under the brim of his brown hat but it’s safe to say it’s furrowed as he asks in the monotonous deadpan of someone lusting after the truth, “Why do we have goats?”
Kristin has brought in the goats because goat poop is an effective lawn fertilizer and Jay loves lawns, we learn. What a pleasure to dive deeper into the cenote depths of Jay’s psyche every week.
Jay warms to the goats, eventually picking up a spirited, patchy one and holding it like a baby. Our guy senses an opportunity.
“You want some goats now?”
“Yeah, I love them,” Kristin says.
“You gotta go look at this house,” Jay says, nuzzling the goat in his arms. “Then you can have as many goats as your little heart desires.”
Would this work as a bartering method for you or I? Unlikely. But Kristin agrees. Victorious, Jay’s face does something like a smile, “I’ll start looking for goats.”
Mr. Fourth Quarter and Kristin make the trip out to the house Jay wants to buy. It’s a long drive and on the way there Jay pulls over unannounced to grab his binoculars from the backseat and check out some turkeys he spots at the side of the road. Jay has, Kristin reports, dressed for the occasion, in a felt cowboy/Coachella hat and fleece vest over a jean utility jacket.
After eons, they arrive. Kristin feigns frustration over Jay being right, and the house being nice. It is nice. It’s a palatial ranch house with a luxury chicken coop and goat enclosure, both bigger than most apartments. Kristin has reservations about the commute—45 minutes to Nashville—and Jay, a pragmatist in all things, assures her that she “can listen to some songs, can make some phone calls.”
Back at the current house, Jay is once again seated at the kitchen counter, lording over a stack of iPads. Kristin asks if he’d like a margarita. “Yeah, I mean I’ll booze,” he says, which is Jay for “yes, please.” He takes one sip and has a coughing fit. Once he settles down she asks what he thinks of the house.
Jay, having been ready for this, says “Been. Ready.”
Kristin continues and says so long as this is their forever home, she’s game. She says she doesn’t want him, in five years, to say, “I found this other house,” which leads us to believe that maybe Jay’s penchant for realty is slightly impulsive?
“Naaah, I’m not gonna move again,” he says to the iPads.
“So, should we do it?” Kristin asks.
Jay shrugs, “I’m in, you’re the one that’s been on the fence, so it’s up to you.”
“Alright what?” Jay needs absolute clarity on this.
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ll call them today,” Cutler says, excitement level hovering around calling either the plumber or someone who has wronged you.
Kristin is preparing to head to an employee’s housewarming party and getting ready in her large bathroom. Now that the big hurdle of agreeing to move to a new house has been cleared, Jay reverts to his usual at-home personality of a Sir Arthur Conan Doyle character always on the case. He enters the room and suddenly stops, “What’s going on here?”
When Kristin tells him where she’s headed, he responds glumly, “I’ve never had a housewarming party. I’ve bought a lot of houses.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Kristin asks.
Jay sits on a chaise. “Quite positive.” Jay is not done, something has intrigued him, “I don’t really feel like you invite your boss to your housewarming party.”
“I’m just going to stop by and bring him a bottle of wine,” Kristin says.
Jay nods emphatically, here is his point and he is ready for it. “That’s probably why. The only reason I would have a housewarming party is probably so people could bring me a bunch of booze.” His wheels are turning. “I gotta get rid of a bunch of white so we’re gonna go white—be different!” He calls after Kristin, who has left the gigantic bathroom and with it, Jay on the bathroom chaise, possibly contemplating all the retroactive housewarming parties he can have.
This article originally appeared on VICE Sports US.