I Binged Ted Lasso To Deal With Burnout And The Lessons It Taught Me Were Priceless

As a Gen Xer, I’m of the VCR age. Maybe that’s why I’m not big on binge-watching shows. Maybe that’s why I refuse to pay for every streaming service, ignoring my FOMO as social media feeds tell me how amazing a show is that I don’t have access to. But when I found myself with a three-month free trial to Apple TV+, I temporarily changed my ways and binged all three seasons of Ted Lasso. And I got a pep talk I didn’t know I needed.

Ted Lasso, the wildly popular comedy series, ended after only three seasons, leaving audiences wanting more and hoping for an announcement that a fourth season or maybe a spin-off was in the works. And after waiting patiently, it looks like that wish might be coming true with the recent reports claiming that the show is returning for another season with some of its stars, including Hannah Waddingham, Jeremy Swift and Brett Goldstein signing on.

I’d always been curious about Ted Lasso, even though I hadn’t seen a single episode before the series ended. Of course I saw the memes, I heard the quotes, I witnessed the collective letdown of fans when Ted said farewell. I knew the show was beloved, I knew the awards it had won, and I knew many viewers got hooked on it during the pandemic for its comic relief during a time of grief and uncertainty. Fortunately, I somehow avoided spoilers and knew nothing else about this show that left such a lasting impression on so many.

Ted Lasso, played by Jason Sudeikis, is an American football coach hired to lead AFC Richmond, a British soccer team. Despite knowing nothing about the sport, he deflects criticism with optimism, determination and dad jokes. While at first, I wondered if Ted’s perpetual positivity would eventually cross over the line from fun humour to irritating silliness, I quickly became attached not only to Ted Lasso, but the entire cast of characters who surround him.

Three months later, with my free trial about to expire, I watched the final scene of the series fade from the screen, wiping away the tears streaming down my face. And that’s when I realised how badly I needed an uplifting show to immerse myself in.

When I hit play on the first episode of the first season, I was suffering from a bout of burnout. My health was a daily struggle, and between a thyroid cancer scare, a surprise discovery that I was postmenopausal, and one dead end after another in my quest to find relief for chronic headaches, my calendar had been highlighted with doctors’ appointments for months. Sprinkle in some unexpected financial expenses, disappointing unmet professional goals and a recent round of carpet-destroying Labrador Retriever vomit – all while working a day job and parenting two teenagers – I was feeling run down and mentally exhausted. 

But all of that melted away when I watched Ted Lasso.

It wasn’t just about the enjoyment of getting lost in an entertaining series, either. Since I had the free Apple TV+ trial I was also binge-watching The Morning Show. However, as much as I loved The Morning Show, and appreciated watching a series with strong female leads and an addictive storyline, it was a heavy drama filled with a lot of angry people yelling at each other. Watching The Morning Show was not a calming, heartwarming experience.

But watching Ted Lasso filled my heart in the best way. Whether Ted was giving a motivating locker room speech, or AFC Richmond won a game, or I just generally adored the girl power of Keeley (Juno Temple) and Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham), and the blossoming friendship between Roy (Brett Goldstein) and Jamie (Phil Dunster), I absorbed the joy the show exuded while shedding some of the heaviness that was weighing me down.

Even when my television was turned off, the voices of Ted Lasso spoke to me. I analysed scenes with my boyfriend, who was my viewing partner. I recapped episodes to my teenage daughter after she lost interest during season threee when the episodes got longer and longer. I fell asleep thinking about the last episode I watched and anticipating the next one. 

What lingered the most though was Ted’s “Believe” sign. The sign, with its yellow background and blue letters in all caps, was almost a character on its own. It was hanging in the team’s locker room as a reminder to all — fictional characters and real life viewers alike — to keep hope alive, whatever the circumstances. Seeing that sign, both on screen and in my imagination, induced a sense of lightness, as if the stressors in my life had shrunk and divided into more manageable chunks. 

As I grappled with my burnout, that sign made me believe. Believe I would find relief for my health issues. Believe my financial expenses would level out. Believe my professional goals were still within reach. Believe I could salvage that carpet with the Labrador Retriever vomit stain (well, maybe that one was a stretch). 

Belief suddenly became my strongest motivator. That sign is now my primary visualisation for inspiration, whether I’m meditating to relieve stress, formulating a new path for my health needs or taking actionable steps toward those goals that, before Ted Lasso, I was beginning to think I should abandon. I believe.

Yes, the show was predictable at times. Yes, every now and then it crossed that line into silliness. But the show wasn’t just fluff and cheap humour. While maintaining its theme of optimism, it tackled divorce, mental health and therapy, complicated parental relationships, sexual identity, revenge, and so much more. It was real and relatable, uplifting and unforgettable.

I finished watching Ted Lasso, but I’m still holding tight to the life lessons that stayed with me. It spoke to me at the exact time I needed it, reminding me to add more positivity to my life, more thoughtfulness, more patience, more kindness, more forgiveness, toward others as well as myself. And most importantly, it reminded me that, as Ted Lasso himself so wisely put it, “I believe in hope, I believe in belief”.