At the end of last season, Ted Lasso (Jason Sudeikis) and AFC Richmond found themselves in an unexpected position as victors. With a critical assist from assistant coach Nate Shelley (Nick Mohammed), they were promoted back into the Premier League, an achievement no one besieged Ted believed would happen. When season three begins, the glow from that success has already worn off. Nate quit the team in a huff and accepted Rupert’s offer to be the coach of West Ham. Sports prognosticators have AFC Richmond finishing in last place. Ted, as always, is comfortable with people underestimating him and his team. He knows that predictions don’t win games, players do. However, there’s the feeling that the club over-performed. After doing the impossible, everyone is thinking, “Now what?”
The answer comes in the form of two simultaneous opportunities involving outsiders. The first is the sudden availability of international superstar player Zava (Maximilian Osinski). Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham), sees Zava as a sure bet to keep the team out of the basement, overrules her staff and makes a strong pitch to Zava, which he accepts to her astonishment. The second is a request from former reporter Trent Crimm (James Lance) to follow the club from the inside and write a book about them. Ted agrees to bring Trent inside the tent despite everyone being opposed to the idea.
This is the first time in the show that Rebecca and Ted made unilateral, gut-feeling decisions affecting the team, and the results speak to their respective leadership acumen. Rebecca, now intent on continuing the club’s success and beating her ex-husband’s team, is thinking purely short-term. Ted, however, thinks long-term and makes decisions based on his years of experience with people from all walks of life. By the end of the season, Ted’s hunch on Trent is proven correct and Zava’s addition to the team turns out to be a disaster.
Initially, the team wins games easily with Zava scoring at will. However, when the opposition starts to focus on isolating Zava, neither he nor the rest of the team is able to adjust. Zava quits after a lengthy losing streak and the team loses horribly to West Ham after an ill-advised motivational technique from Coaches Beard (Brendan Hunt) and Roy Kent (Brett Goldstein). Then, after losing a friendly match in Amsterdam, Ted decides to lift the team’s curfew for the night. That simple-yet-insightful decision to give everyone a mental break winds up paying huge dividends. Ted devises a new strategy, a task he once depended on Nate to provide. Even better, the team bonds while endlessly debating dinner and entertainment options. The lesson being that when things are not going well, momentarily putting aside your troubles is a good thing. (The series is filled with these little bits of wisdom.)
Implementing a complex playing strategy is no easy matter. The players not only need to buy in, but learn how to play it in the middle of the season. Leadership arrives in the unlikely form of Jamie Tartt (Phil Dunster), who is energized from the personal training from Roy. Will there be enough time for the team to turn things around and avoid another demotion? Given that Ted Lasso has always been about optimism and believing in one’s self, I give nothing away by saying that the team ultimately succeeds, just not in the way you expect.
In addition to the trials and tribulations of AFC Richmond, season three provides satisfying closure to the arc of all of its main characters. The reasons behind Nate’s decision to storm off and align himself with the detestable Rupert are examined. Roy figures out how to be an effective coach and mentor. Jamie realizes how he’s been holding himself back from achieving greatness. Rebecca recognizes and accepts her responsibility as a team owner. Trent figures out how to put his incisive reporting skills to better use. After experiencing some personal and professional setbacks, Keeley emerges as a more confident businesswoman. As far as Ted goes, his marriage situation archives a “final closure”, if that makes any sense.
Season two was defined by Ted’s struggle with panic attacks and how they impacted his ability to coach the team. Season three implies that through his candidness with the media and commitment to therapy, he became a source of inspiration to those around him. Several of the main characters undergo significant transformations in this final season from where they began. Unlike standard sitcom characters, those who populate Ted Lasso (gradually) recognize the behaviors and emotions that are holding them back from taking the next step in their lives. By the end of this season, they’ve managed to get out of their own way and become the best version of themselves.
Ted Lasso strived to be more than a typical sitcom. It gave all of the main characters their own journey of self-discovery, even those characters who had become annoying (hi Nate!). As a result, episode lengths expanded accordingly, leading some to complain about the show’s maximalist approach. Evidently, only movies are allowed to expand with little concern over “being too long”. (Avatar 2, ran 3:12 and went on to become the biggest movie worldwide from 2022.) I appreciated the show’s deliberate and intimate approach to storytelling because I was genuinely interested in understanding what made the characters behave the way they did, especially the annoying ones. The show’s lightly comedic tone has given way to dramedy, but that mirrors the evolution of the characters from having a sitcom-level of awareness into fully-realized individuals. Sure, the emotional introspection was messy at times, but in the world of Ted Lasso, that is what leads to growth. As Ted once explained to Rupert in season one, he strives to be curious and not judgemental. As such, I was curious how these characters would end up and was glad to be along for the journey, no matter how long it took. Recommended.
Analysis
One of the curses of streaming is how impossible it is to avoid reading other people’s critical reactions to a show, especially one as popular as Ted Lasso. Some were specific, such as in Episode 9, when the team reacts to Keely’s sexually explicit video being leaked. Or how the shot of Coach Beard’s wedding ceremony at an obviously CGI rendering of Stonehenge looked fake. Others criticisms were more general, that the episodes were running too long. Or that Keely’s relationship with investor Jack was so ill-advised you could see it ending as soon as it began. Rubbish.
I honestly wonder what type of series people believed they were watching. Did they really think that the show was a typical sitcom, where the audience would occasionally get insight into the characters, only for the next episode to hit the reset button? Or where the characters would be known more for their quips and idiosyncrasies, and not for acting like relatable human beings? (I say this as a huge fan of sitcoms like Taxi, Night Court, Three’s Company and many other sitcoms.) Ted Lasso was never intended to be a traditional sitcom. The show may have used that structure in the first season, but the signs were there if folks were paying attention.
Yes, those initial episodes had plenty of sitcom-level humor. It’s been a few years, but I remember Ted joking about having a single piece of cereal for breakfast. (It was a huge brick of shredded wheat.) Ted was the fish-out-of-water and the show got a lot of mileage out of that premise. I enjoyed how Ted’s running dialog with his friend Beard was filled with daft puns and witticisms. Then there were the members of AFC Richmond: the talented-and-egotistical Jamie Tartt, the aging star and team leader Roy Kent, Mexican ray of sunshine Rojas, Sam, the happy-go-lucky Nigerian, the hard-as-nails future captain Isaac, French-Canadian goalkeeper Thierry (a.k.a. the Van Damme) and the quiet, closeted Colin. The back-office included the towering, beautiful and brassy owner Rebecca, former fun-girl turned marketing manager Keely and the practical and wry Higgins as the Director of Operations. Lastly there was reporter Trent Crimm. I missed a few characters but you get the gist.
Like every successful workplace comedy, the show had an excellent mix of characters, one that produced a lot of sitcom-like situations in the early going. If the show only intended to be another Cheers, it could have had the characters play off of each other until being canceled after having completely exhausted the setup like Cheers (eleven years). Or it could have ended a bit too soon like Taxi (five years). However, this is not what Jason Sudekis ever intended when he brought the concept of the show to Bill Lawrence (Spin City, Scrubs). Before watching season three, I read that Sudekis’ had envisioned the series as having a three season arc. Based on how season two ended, I knew that the producers of the show had ambitions beyond making hay of Roy growling at Jamie, Keely bouncing between footballer boyfriends and the players struggling to understand another folksy analogy from Ted.
From the very beginning, Ted Lasso focused on how people deal with life-changing events. The catalyst for the series–Ted leaving Kansas for London to coach a soccer team, wasn’t because he was keen on having an adventure. It was his realization that his marriage might be coming to an end. When confronted with this impending personal setback, he dramatically pivoted into unfamiliar territory as a way to prevent a divorce. As the show eventually reveals, the reason why Ted was unable to cope with his wife’s honesty was due to the defense mechanisms he put into place after his father’s suicide. Ted coped with that tragedy by always putting the feelings of others above his own. However, when his wife confronted him with her own unhappiness, he didn’t know how to handle it because he had always put her feelings first. He decided that leaving was the best course of action, mistakenly believing that if he gave her space, she’d come around. Unfortunately, instead of absence making the heart grow fonder, his actions only make the worst possible outcome a reality.
Similarly, all of the other major characters had psychological blockers that prevented them from achieving their true potential. Rebecca, Jamie, Roy, Keeley and the rest are all successful to a certain extent, but they are unable to take the next step that would enable them to lead happier, more fulfilling lives. Surprisingly, it was how Ted handled the very public outing of his panic attacks that provided the inspiration for everyone else to make the changes they’ve been unwilling to make. Ted was correct in asserting that the success of AFC Richmond wasn’t about him. Whether a team wins or loses never boils down to one person. However, the series makes the argument that providing a good example of how to cope and adjust to life’s curveballs can serve as the inspiration for others to do the same. I believe that this was the vision the producers had for the series all along.
Ted Lasso reminded me of The Good Place and Schitt’s Creek, two other comedy series I group under the moniker of “aspirational comedy”. All three initially presented themselves as a traditional sitcom, only to reveal that the the characters had a surprising level of depth and complexity. The shows still had funny situations and snappy one-liners, but the characters had a level of self-awareness far beyond what a sitcom requires. Instead of being constrained to predictable behavior, the characters grow and evolve. First they recognize how their behavior holds them back, then make an effort to improve themselves. Finally, when they are no longer in their own way, they are able to achieve what they really want out of life instead of settling for less. In this way, all three shows personify the belief that we all aspire to become a better version of ourselves, and that that evolution will ultimately lead to happiness (or at least contentment).
An easy complaint to make against these aspirational comedy shows is that it can be much more difficult to make the life changes Ted and the rest do in the show. The vision Ted Lasso proffers, one that if we just put the work in, our lives will dramatically improve, is certainly an idealized take on the nature of how self-awareness feeds self-actualization. However, given how Ted Lasso and the other shows are purely fictional, I appreciate them for going beyond offering easy laughs, even though I definitely appreciate that aspect of the show. At the very least, I see shows like Ted Lasso as beneficial for making me do a little psychoanalysis on myself. For example, after watching an episode, I’ve thought about the things that have held me back in my life, and where I would be if I could get past them. In my opinion, self-awareness is never a bad thing, nor is the desire to improve one’s self. For that, I’ll always be grateful for a show like Ted Lasso.
Since season three marked the end of Ted Lasso, I wanted to look back at how each character evolved since the beginning. In each case, there was a definitive and distinct character arc, which is remarkable for a comedy series.
Ted Lasso
Where he began: confronted with marital problems, he left home to coach a sport he knew nothing about in a country he had never been to. His easy-going demeanor and folksy charm hid his underlying depression.
Where he ended up: after finally admitting to his father’s suicide in therapy and learning to manage his panic attacks, he got AFC promoted to the Premier League. When the acquisition of Zaza proved to be a disaster, he sagely lifted the team curfew in Amsterdam. This restored the team’s comradery and resulted in his Team Football breakthrough. When the playing season ended, he returned to Kansas to be reunited with his wife.
Nate Shelley
Where he began: he served as the team’s kit man, until his soccer acumen and skill at devising strategy earned him a promotion to assistant coach.
Where he ended up: he quit West Ham after discovering that Rupert was completely immoral and unethical. While staying at his parent’s house, he realized that his anger towards Ted and AFC were rooted in his need to be singled out for praise, a result of his dysfunctional relationship with his father. He repaired his relationship with Ted and Beard and rejoined AFC as an assistant coach.
Rebecca Welton
Where she began: Her behavior was fueled by revenge on her ex-husband. She wanted nothing more than to destroy her ex-husband’s favorite thing, his soccer team. She hired Ted in the belief that he will lead the team to failure of epic proportions.
Where she ended up: After a brief flirtation with the idea of selling the club, she realized that being an owner of a football club is a privilege. She fully embraced her role as caretaker of the team and as a thank-you to the fans for supporting the club, she made 49% of her shares available for public investment.
Roy Kent
Where he began: He was the leader of the team but had aged out of being a starter.
Where he ended up: After a short stint as a television commentator, Roy became an assistant coach. He gradually realized that his gruff, intimidating persona was not conducive to his new role. As such, Roy shifted his mentality from intimidating player to mentor and friend. Through listening and encouragement, he effectively pushed Jamie to achieve the greatness that had eluded him. His success was recognized and Roy was promoted to head coach.
Keeley Jones
Where she began: she was an ex-model in a relationship with Jamie, and later Roy.
Where she ended up: after getting a role as marketing director from Rebecca, she left the club to start her own company. Unfortunately, her insecurity with being in a leadership position led to several bad decisions. When her last relationship ends badly, resulting in her company losing its investment capital, she resists going back to either Jamie or Roy. Instead, she starts her company again, this time with money from Rebecca.
Jamie Tartt
Where he began: he joined AFC after his reality show was canceled. Undeniably talented, he struggled with being a leader. He became a malcontent whenever the spotlight wasn’t on him. His motivation to succeed was based on his intense hatred of his father.
Where he ended up: under Roy’s tutelage, he grew into a highly effective team leader. He sacrificed his individual stats so that the team would be successful playing Ted’s Total Football scheme. He took Ted’s advice and changed his mental approach to the game from one based on animosity to a love of competition.
Trent Crimm
Where he began: he was a reporter for The Independent, and was responsible for publishing stories that portrayed Ted in a bad light.
Where he ended up: after he realized that Ted genuinely cared about his players and the people around him, he quit being a reporter after writing the story of Ted’s panic attacks. He wrote a book documenting the team’s incredible turnaround titled The Richmond Way.
The Art of Coaching
I can’t think of another television show or movie that actually explains what it means to be an effective coach. Most of the time, coaches are reduced to giving pep-talks or cajoling players to play harder. Instead, this show gives concurrent examples of why Ted is good at his job. The most interesting revelation for me was that being a good coach isn’t about X’s and O’s. While strategy is important, it’s not the most important part of the job. Otherwise, Ted would have lost every game and the show would have lasted only one season.
Ted is a good coach because he is empathetic. He can read the room in an instant and knows what type of speech he needs to give. Depending on the situation, Ted alternatively provides inspiration, lightens the mood, offers a much-needed distraction or frames things philosophically. By always shifting his tone, his players are unable to tune him out. Aside from Ted’s generally positive approach, the team never knows what he’ll say next.
Ted is quick to put the blame on himself for a loss but never once takes credit for the team’s success. He keeps his focus to helping his players play better and does his best to put them in a position to win. If they don’t, there’s no sense in getting angry about it, because there’s always the next game. He knows that coaching is all about preparation. Once the game begins, he’s little more than a spectator.
Another aspect of Ted that I appreciated is how inclusive he is with his coaches and players. He actively fosters an environment where everyone is free to speak their mind. Ted never allows the team to shut down someone with an unpopular take. Instead, he leads the discussion and gives everyone a chance to explain their side. As someone who has worked in many professional environments, this is what all managers strive to achieve but rarely do. Ted is successful because he understands that he’s a better coach by embracing collaboration.
Starting with season 2, the series has contrasted how Ted and Nate approach coaching. Once he’s made coach of West Ham, Nate became a dictator. His one attempt at bonding with his coworkers (recreating the Diamond Dogs) is a disaster because they view themselves only as subordinates, not peers. Even though Nate is successful with his top-down approach, he’s ostracized himself from everyone else in the process. Instead of friends, he has flunkies. While Nate probably would’ve led West Ham to first place, he would have been miserable in spite of that achievement. In sports, wins and losses are inevitable. Ted Lasso argues that experiencing them with your friends, like Ted, is much more rewarding than by yourself, like Ned.
On Ownership
Rebecca’s transformation from spiteful owner to supportive owner was one of the best character arcs of the series. As I mentioned above, she went from wanting to destroy the team to someone who sees herself as managing a public trust. Her pivotal moment was in episode ten when she stood up to Akufo and his arrogant plan of a Super League. Her rhetorical question to the other club owners “Don’t you have enough money?” should be one asked of every professional sports team owner in the US. I’m so tired of owners moving their teams around chasing better deals for themselves, with no consideration to the fans. I’m sure sports fans in Las Vegas will enjoy having the transplanted Oakland Athletics to cheer for, but the move leaves the team’s hardcore fans in Oakland with nothing. Disgraceful.
Be Curious, Not Judgemental
Several complaints I heard about this season described frustration at how every character had been given a Ted Lasso arc of self-discovery. For example, they’ve had enough of Nate’s annoying behavior and didn’t want to know what was behind it. Evidently, these folks forgot Ted’s quote from episode eight in season one: be curious, not judgemental. If Ted Lasso had been constructed as a traditional sitcom, then all of the characters would have been relegated to running in their hamster wheels until the series was eventually canceled. While that approach has traditionally been a reliable source of laughs, I’m surprised that some viewers weren’t the least bit curious to learn anything about these characters beyond their personalities. They clearly didn’t want to find out why Nate acted the way he did, and by extension they didn’t want him to have any self-awareness as a character.
I suspect people anticipated season two and season three to be more of the same, that the show would continue being a light, feel-good, inspirational comedy. Perhaps the source of the frustration was how the producers made sure that all of the primary characters have arcs. They have highs and lows, make mistakes, learn something about themselves and grow in a tangible way. If Ted Lasso were a movie, nobody would have an issue with the characters evolving over the course of the story. For some reason, experiencing the same thing over thirty-four episodes was problematic for some viewers. Personally, I liked that Nate was more than a comedic villain in the mold of Major Burns on MASH. And that Jamie and Keeley grew beyond characters that would be right at home on Friends.
A Defence of Keeley Jones
Another complaint I read was how people hated Keeley’s relationship with Jack. As if nobody had ever gotten into a relationship that wound up looking bad in hindsight. Keeley’s friendship with Rebecca showed how she’s attracted to strong, confident women, so her dating a wealthy investor shouldn’t have been a surprising development. Keeley’s arc has been about her learning how to use her agency. She made some mistakes along the way, like hiring her friend Shandy, but she learned from them. Her trials and tribulations reminded me of Anthony Hopkins’ character in Westworld when he said, “Evolution forged the entirety of sentient life on this planet using only one tool: the mistake.” We all learn by making mistakes, and hers weren’t particularly egregious. By the end of the series, Keeley no longer needs a strong personality alongside her to act as a safety valve and is running her business with confidence. Well done.