Heads up there are a few spoilers for Ted Lasso season two in this blog.
The TV show Ted Lasso is an oddity. The concept isn’t something I should be interested in, and on paper it shouldn’t work. I’m not a fan of football in the slightest, and it being based on a series of comedy commercials, history tells us it should have become a series of shallow jokes about a fish out of water. It should have failed with the first season. However, it has become a phenomenon, and rightfully so. In a world divided, confused, and scared for the future comes a show that is willing to wear its heart on its sleeve and be a positive force.
That’s not to say it’s devoid of conflict or that its saccharine in its chirpy happiness. What makes Ted Lasso special is its honesty. Often when that term is used for a TV show, it’s a hard hitting drama about the worst life has to offer. While I appreciate those shows are important, showing a glimpse of how some people are forced to live, I do believe the incessant grimness has been a contributing factor in the global emotional and psychological decline. Oddly contributing to further despair, without providing suggestions for a solution.
I will acknowledge that Ted Lasso is about a football club and people that earn millions of pounds. However, it doesn’t dwell on rich people problems, or diminish the people that aren’t in the same tax bracket. The football and the money are barely a consideration or a factor in the show. Yes, they inform elements and the framing but at its heart its about people from very different backgrounds working together to raise each other up, and every week it raises me up to.
The show has covered a number of topics and themes, and I think there are great articles to be written about the portrayal of women in business, the complexity of relationships, grieving and creating a positive working environment. What I want to focus on is how it has broken down and helped me address my own toxic masculinity.
As I reach 40, I have taken a look back at my life and, like everyone else, there are things I know I could have done better at or dealt with differently. One of those things is my own relationship with my emotions and mental health. I grew up in the 80’s and 90’s and my fictional role models were action stars and superheroes who dealt in actions rather words. Greif was an opportunity for revenge and lashing out. If a wrong was identified in the world it was an opportunity to blow stuff up. There was no room for emotions. John Rambo starts by exploring his PTSD and trauma to then being dropped back into war for entertainment. Not great therapy, and the way to work through those pesky trauma nightmares was to kill more baddies.
In the 90s, during my teen years, I was swamped by Lad Culture. Get drunk and be loud, with a side of obnoxious. It was an extension of the 80s yuppie culture, work hard, play harder. I was pretty good at that. Over the years I became more worldly, and I like to think more balanced. I have had some hard lessons about how to manage and work with people. I have tried to be better and be a positive influence on people I know and work with.
I grew up with prejudices that I have addressed, and I’m embarrassed I ever held them, but somethings are harder to work on than others. My understanding and acceptance of the wider world, and the wonderful array of people that live In it, has always been tempered by how I have perceived myself and what I feel.
I have trouble with my weight and will often work ridiculous hours to get work done. I take on too much and when I get frustrated, I let it build up into anger. Then when things don’t work out, or I have too many plates spinning I get annoyed at myself for not being able to keep everything moving. This then results in the behaviour that contributes to my weight issues. It becomes a cycle. I know this, and have done for years, but to admit it, to let others know that I know this, would be the biggest failure. To admit that I can’t do any more, or that I have hit my limit when I know that others are under pressure as well is, as far as I have seen it, a sign of weakness, and so I carry on. Not wanting people to think less of me. I’m a man and I should be able to shoulder this burden. Just grab another snickers and knuckle down harder. During the pandemic this behaviour has been worse than ever.
But that may all be in the past.
Ted Lasso season two has made me stop and take a step back. Football clubs are often portrayed as hives of competition and alpha males. Ted Lasso has taken a different tact and shown how this team supports each other. In this season three elements have made me take stock.
Jamie Tart dealing with the pressure to succeed from his Father and supporters has been fascinating to watch. The internalisation of the fear of failure and the constant push for you to the be the sole winner of a team game struck home. The moment he punched out his Dad was stunning. A full stop moment. Yes, it was frustration spilling out, but it was not for him, it was for him as part of the team. A moment to say, ‘no more’ and I am part of this team, and they are there for me. The fact the punch was followed by a hug from Roy Kent was perfect. We often work as a team, in life and in work. within in that team we have responsibilities, but we are not responsible for the whole team. Be good at what you are good at and help the others to do the same and positive results are a lot more likely.
Let’s talk about Roy Kent. He should be the worst offender, but they have under-cut this perfectly and created a new modern role model. The curmudgeonly Roy has a life and reputation built on aggression and machismo. However, his arc has led him to become a great example of the ability and need to adapt and try new things, especially as we move from one stage of life to the next. His desire to change, adapt and learn for the people he loves is an inspiration. They are the people we need to be better for the most. I now stop an ask WWRFD: What Would Roy Fucking Do?
The most important is Ted and his anxiety attacks. His relationship with Dr Fieldstone has also made me question some of my own habits and what may have caused them. I’m not going to delve into my life story here (you can wait for the book J), but Ted discussing how the suicide of his father has shaped his approach to life and the emotional impact this has had, when he is forced to have to give up on things, stopped me in my tracks. The question I asked was, who am I trying to impress? What am I getting from the hours given up and why am I doing this? The waking up at 4am with anxiety isn’t a sign I care about my work, it’s a sign my work is damaging me. This isn’t something that I am going to address overnight, but these questions have started a chain reaction that has allowed me to stop and say, ‘Yes, I am struggling, and I need to take a breath’. What comes next I still need to figure out, but I know that I do need to figure it out.
Everyone behind Ted Lasso should be proud. Not only are they creating a funny show with heart, but they are also creating role models that show young (and some not so young) men, that being a man isn’t about being stoic, bearing the burden and keeping going. It’s not macho to just keep going and wash down the negativity. Being a man is about being a part of the world, being who you are, but knowing that we can all be better and being willing to explore ways of achieving that. It doesn’t mean the world and life will be easier, but it does mean that we don’t have to do it alone.
I’m heading into middle age, and I am scared of it. I am scared I won’t be able to keep up. I am scared that things are getting on top of me. I am scared that I won’t be relevant anymore. Ted Lasso came at the right time and has helped put some things in perspective for me. It’s fine to be sacred of these things, the world can be fucking scary, but its not helpful to keep those fears to myself. WWRFD? he’d begrudgingly talk to Keely, and they would work it out together, whether it’s easy or hard.
I’m about to be 40 and its time to make some changes.
