FEARLESS GRIT [dot] COM

View Original

Vol II: #37 The Importance of Ted Lasso


In my 41 years, I have yet to watch anything like Ted Lasso. Apple+ aired the last episode of season two this week, and I’m sad it’s over. Fortunately, season three is in the works for next summer. Thank God. The show has more depth and heart than any in recent memory- at least for me, a 40-something single man trying to make the world a better place. Naturally, Ted Lasso falls outside the critics’ acceptance and praise of “good TV.” It’s not the Sopranos, Game of Thrones, or The Wire. It’s not Breaking Bad, Stranger Things, or Tiger King. It’s a show about men, for men.

You’d have to watch every episode of each season of Ted Lasso to understand what I mean. Yes, Ted Lasso was written by liberal Hollywood actors and screenwriters. Yes. They infuse their politics into it, along with a plethora of Gen-X movie and music references. But, more than anything, Ted Lasso is focused on the journeys of a handful of men, their ups and downs, their motivations, and their flaws. For the sake of this post, I will focus on one of the major themes of season two: how fathers affect their sons.

Throughout season two, we are shown the father-son relationship of four main characters: head coach Ted Lasso, assistant coach Nate Shelley, hotshot star soccer player Jamie Tartt, and a budding young star named Sam Obisanya. Each of these men is significantly impacted by their relationship with their father, and the show captures it beautifully.

Ted Lasso came to life as a hilarious and verbose American football coach, hired to lead an English football club without prior experience or knowledge of the sport. He’s a walking warm-fuzzy and coaches each player to the best of their ability. He appears to be a shinny man- without flaw or sadness. As season one winds its way to the finish, we learn about Ted’s divorce, late-night drinks, and his occasional panic attacks. In season two, we learn why. Ted’s father committed suicide in his early teens. Ted was left confused and determined to “never give up.”

I love Ted Lasso because- as he explains to a therapist- he loved his father. In one session, Ted describes his dad as a great dad. But, Ted hates him because he “gave up.” How Ted approaches life is common for a lot of us. It’s not that we don’t love our dads; rather, we don’t want to repeat their mistakes. We do the opposite of what we see, but problems leak of us all the same. It’s up to us to find a healthy way to express and manage our anger, sadness, and guilt. Our dads didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they didn’t know how to do better. The resources and culture didn’t facilitate a man saying, “I need help.” Men are supposed to deal with their problems “like a man,” which usually involves self-destructive hobbies like drinking and pornography.

Jamie Tartt, on the other hand, is introduced as a hotshot footballer. He’s handsome, talented, and rich…and a prick to women and his teammates. Tartt is the typical arrogant athlete, emboldened by an industry hellbent on winning. It’s hard to like Jamie Tartt in season one. He gave the audience so few opportunities to do so. Coach Lasso never gave up on him, despite all his prick-ish ways. Which is why- when Jamie blew his big break with Man City- he went to Ted to play for Richmond. Over the course of season two, Tartt becomes a leader and model teammate. And, we learn the source of his previous sins.

Jamie Tartt’s dad is an abusive drunk. Even as an adult, his father berates and criticizes Jamie’s performance after each match. It’s the reason Jamie refused to let Coach Lasso coach him, and why he left Man City to film a reality TV show. Jamie would rather rebel than succeed just to piss off his dad. I get that. I’ve felt unable to live up to the expectations of others- like I’m a failure no matter what I did. So why try? It’s something I still struggle to defeat in life. (My single biggest hurdle at BSSM is the feeling I’ll never measure up to what the school says is “normal Christian life.” Thankfully, at 41, I don’t care what they say. I’ve got my life to live, my calling to fulfill. I can love them without letting their expectations crush me.)

The most jarring character on Ted Lasso is Nate Shelley. He starts as a quiet but ambitious equipment manager. Over two seasons he develops into a brilliant young assistant coach, then Shakespearan villain. The story arc of Nate is hard to watch and super relatable. He’s insecure, resentful, and wants to be anyone other than who he is. When given a moment to shine as a coach, he pushed the team to a huge win. He subsequently filled his head with social media affirmation, searching for praise. How common is it for us to look for love online? Very.

Over the course of season two, Nate learns to be assertive, to be powerful but becomes increasingly arrogant. He takes Lasso’s coaching decisions as slights, and never sees himself as the equal he is. Nate needs constant affirmation because he doesn’t believe in himself. By now, you should know, his relationship with his father plays a big role in his insecurity. Nothing Nate does is good enough for his strict father. Even when his son led Richmond to a huge victory, Mr. Shelley turned his nose up at the feat. Nate feels unloved. I can’t imagine what that does to someone. Whatever my dad is or is not, I know my dad loves me.

Ultimately, Nate becomes the villain of the show. He betrayed Ted to the press and became head coach of the new rival West Ham United. When Ted asked “what’s wrong,” Nate explains,

“You made me feel like I was the most important person in the whole world. And, then you abandoned me.”

I felt that statement in my soul. How many times I sought love and continual support from people, then hated them when they failed. The truth about Nate Shelley is he hates Ted Lasso for what his father did to him. More importantly, he doesn’t value and love himself. His identity and self-esteem are based on the opinions and actions of others. Again, I know that angst, the never-ending drive to quiet the voice of rejection.

Lastly, we have sweet Sam Obisanya. He’s talented, mature, and has a loving/supportive father. It’s one of the more subtle storylines of the show, but it’s there. Sam’s father provides consistent support and cares for his son. As a result, Sam is a confident and powerful young man. When faced with big life hurdles such as unethical business associations or a move to a new club, Sam has the grace and ability to boldly stand on his own two feet. He doesn’t allow a moment or individual to define him.

Yes, of course, it’s a bit idyllic. The reality isn’t. The love and support of a father go a long way in our lives. It strengthens our resolve and confidence in the middle of the darkest storms. No wonder the world tries to destroy the truth of our Father as the good Dad and King. The enemy doesn’t want a world full of confident/mature Christians running around. Can you imagine it? This earth, full of people who believe what the Lord says about them, able to receive is love? Full of faith and joy, no matter what? I can.

It’s fair to say every father is a mixed bag of flaws and love. I choose to believe most dads want to be good dads to their sons and daughters. Unfortunately, they weren’t given a manual at our birth. All they have to go on is what was modeled to them. The brave ones, like Ted Lasso or my dad, tried to make different choices. They want something different for their kids. It’s noble and worthy of praise.

I’m one of the lucky ones. I got to witness my dad growing up as a father- watched him make mistakes, own them, then grow beyond them. I’m proud of him and the journey he took to be where he is today. Imperfect? Of course, as all men are and will be. But, he’s an amazing grandfather. And, I hope my kids get to meet him one day- God willing.

Dads matter. Good dads show up and are generous with their words. They are our source of protection and strength. We see ourselves in them. When they hurt or fail, we wonder if that will be us. The good dads teach us to grow beyond their limits, to know our shared DNA is not the predictor of our future.

Being a son is about learning to be who we are, which is always going to be a little of who our father is. Part of the journey is finding a way to forgive the mistakes and failures of our dads. In this way, we become like our Father. Love conquerors all the sins, and it’s the glory of God to do so. Patience, Kindness, Joy, and Peace will always overcome anger, rejections, shame, and abandonment. This spiritual dynamic is what makes the relationship between a father and his sons so special. Did we learn to love each other? I’m blessed to answer yes, I learned to love my dad for exactly who he is. My prayer is others do too.

However we start- as a Ted Lasso, Jamies Tartt, or Nate Shelley- we can all become a Sam Obisanya. It’s up to us to choose love, no matter what.