I have been shouting from the mountain top about how much I love Ted Lasso for the better part of a year now.  It is joyful; it is at times absurd; it is always gleeful and unabashedly positive.  It’s just so gosh darn easy to watch.  I adore it for all of these reasons and more.  It has all the hallmarks of a classically-great comedy: the stellar ensemble; the strong, clearly-drawn characters about whom you care deeply and in whom you are wholly invested; the personal and emotional stakes at play; and the consistent laugh-out-loud moments.

The show, now in its second season on Apple TV, remains my current favorite thing on any streaming service and is quickly climbing into my all-time TV-show pantheon alongside other perennial classic comedies like Family Ties, Scrubs, How I Met Your Mother, and Parks & Recreation.  My favorite shows tend to be half-hour comedies because of their eminent rewatchability.  It even boasts an old-school theme song, performed by one of my favorite artists Marcus Mumford (of Mumford & Sons fame) that makes me break out in a huge smile as soon as I hear it.  It’s an ear worm that I don’t mind having stuck in my head for hours after I finish watching the show.

Jason Sudeikis, as the titular Ted Lasso, is a revelation.  We all knew he was funny from his iconic years on Saturday Night Live and movies like Horrible Bosses and the underrated We’re the Millers.  But his ability to convey nuance, emotion, and basic human goodness places him in rare territory among comedic leads.  Amy Poehler did similarly outstanding work, alongside a truly iconic cast, as the backbone of Parks & Rec.  The same was true of Michael J. Fox as the inimitable Alex P. Keaton in Family Ties, a touchstone character for my childhood, even if he was an avowed Reagan Republican.  And it should come as little surprise that the character Ted Lasso reminds me most of is Zach Braff’s awkward, sensitive, and wistful John Dorian from Scrubs, given its common DNA with Ted Lasso.  Ted is more of cock-eyed optimist that J.D., but they both bring the same basic kindness, empathy, and concern for others around them.  Bill Lawrence, the show runner of Scrubs—a show that has a special place in my heart (and many people of a similar age for that matter)—created Ted Lasso with Sudeikis, and his tell-tale fingerprints are all over it.  So the parallels, along with my enjoyment of the show, are understandable.

That Sudeikis’ life has paralleled that of his character is a sad yet sympathetic development.  Sudeikis and his companion of seven years—the impossibly beautiful Olivia Wilde—parted ways in 2020, and he was clearly heart-broken over the split.  That she then went on to publicly date pop singer Harry Styles couldn’t have helped.  This story, entitled “Yeah, Jason Sudeikis Is Actually Kind of Like Ted Lasso in Real Life” was published this year but is based on something that transpired between a reporter and the actor in 2017, reveals the similarities between the actor and the character and helps me buy into the Ted Lasso ethos that much more.

That Ted Lasso came along at a time when we all so badly needed a show like this is truly serendipitous.  When I began watching the show last fall, we were still locked in our apartments, afraid to go out, and missing human contact.  The world seemed (and maybe still does) pretty bleak and in a bad place with little prospect for imminent improvement.  The show so boosted my spirits and made me laugh and sometimes even cry.  It was such a gift, and the tone was so starkly different from the world we saw when we peered out of our windows at the still sparsely-populated streets and scant foot traffic below.

Now that we’ve opened up a bit (though the delta variant may yet have something to say about that) and are more mobile and interactive, the show—at least for me—has lost none of its power or impact.  Some critics dismissed the first season of the show as hopelessly naïve or a gimmick series relying on a mustache and familiar fish-out-of-water tropes.  I disagree, in the strongest possible terms.  You just gotta Believe.  Believe in the power of the show to create bonds (I re-watched the entire Season 1 with both of my brothers separately, reveling in the chance to introduce them both to it, successfully hooking them in the process).  They loved and laughed with Ted, as I knew they would, but also at Roy Kent’s sourpuss and colorful language, Jamie Tartt’s endless preening and self-promotion, and Keely’s oddly wise, fresh perspective and earthiness.  But if you don’t choose to Believe or somehow can’t find your way into the show, in the words of the legend Roy Kent himself, “Oy!  Get fucked!”[1]

It has been a hot minute since I was so invested in a TV show.  The last such all-in obsession was probably Game of Thrones.  And we all know how that turned out.  Both Lawrence and Sudeikis have said that Ted Lasso will last exactly three seasons.  The show has already been greenlit by Apple TV for this run.  And if you know anything about the story of Leicester FC, you might already be able to guess at the broad arc of the series plot.  But none of that will dampen my unadulterated joy in watching the show.  In rooting for Ted and the Greyhounds.  In donning my FC Richmond kit and screaming as they try to win the Championship and claw their way back into the Premiership.  And rooting for Sam, Danny Rojas (football is indeed life), and, yes, even Jamie Tartt.  This show is a gift.  Exactly what we needed, when we needed it.  And that is rare thing indeed.  Believe.

[1] And yes, I did buy a #6 Roy Kent replica jersey to watch the show in.  I am that much of a superfan and, if I’m being honest, a sentimental nerd.