The Ted Lasso Series Finale Makes Us Feel Foolish For Ever Loving The Show At All

This post contains spoilers for the series finale of "Ted Lasso."

The first two seasons of "Ted Lasso" are about how emotional vulnerability is both the hardest trait a person can ever learn and the most deeply worthwhile. The third season of "Ted Lasso" is about ... being nice, I guess? The once-beloved Apple TV+ series just bowed out with an episode that seems intended both as a series finale and the beginning of a new chapter, and even after sitting through 12 extra-length episodes this season, it's still a little tough to figure out what the show's season 3 gameplan was.

The 70-plus minute season (or series) finale certainly tied up several of the season's myriad loose ends, but in keeping with the pacing problems the whole season has faced, it spent much of its runtime puttering around before getting down to business in — excuse the football metaphor here — the fourth quarter. Before the final montage offered some short and sweet closure for our characters, "So Long, Farewell" repeated the same mistakes the show has been making all season. Its writing was duller, its characters dumber, and its point less, well, pointed than the show's first two go-rounds. Perhaps worst of all, Jason Sudeikis' sincere locker room moment during AFC Richmond's final match made it abundantly obvious that he and Ted have been phoning it in all season.

There's genuine emotion in Sudeikis' voice when he speaks to the team during halftime, knowing he's heading back to Kansas City no matter what happens next. It is startling to watch that moment and a few of Sudeikis' other high points here and realize just how thoroughly the character of Ted has been sidelined all season. It's a choice that would make sense if the show had a strong ensemble to fill the void, but thanks to lackluster writing, it doesn't. The season has felt like it's been full of narrative false starts — from Zava to Jack to Sam's political activism to Nate's tedious foray to the dark side – and the finale weirdly presents yet another by pitting Jamie (Phil Dunster) and Roy (Brett Goldstein) against one another in an uncharacteristically macho fight.

The regressive, out-of-character way Roy and Jamie spoke about Keeley (Juno Temple) might have been my least favorite part of the finale, but then again, I shouldn't be surprised after the way this show has completely extinguished the light of her character and Juno Temple's lovely performance. When Keeley presents Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham) with a plan for a women's team — almost certainly a spin-off idea that could keep plenty of cast mates around — the pair's chemistry is enough to make the last-minute twist somewhat thrilling. Yet it's still not enough to undo the bizarre sabotage the show has been doing to Keeley's plotline and reputation all season, and with very few lines in the finale, Temple felt underutilized to the end.

Most of this season's problems have to do with the show's writing. It's less funny than ever, a trend that continues through the finale with a few very welcome exceptions (the giant avocado, Beard's suitcase full of rice comment). With such bloated episode runtimes, the series has to pull off some of its more meandering bits, and when they fall flat — like the excruciatingly corny moment when everyone looks for hidden cameras after Roy asks to join the Diamond Dogs — it's hard for the comedic timing to bounce back.

Don't get me wrong, there are glimpses of the "Ted Lasso" that all-but-swept recent award seasons in the finale, just as there have been throughout the season. The last 10 minutes of the episode, in particular, delivered several pitch-perfect endings for characters we know and love, from Jamie visiting his dad in rehab to Sam (Toheeb Jimoh) playing for the Nigerian team. When Ted's son joyfully calls his name, running to meet him as he returns home, it's hard not to tear up thinking about Ted's own dad, and the show's attempts (more focused and powerful in the earlier seasons) to reckon with the pain and pressure of being both child and parent.

Too much of this season, though, has veered away from that throughline and instead gone for almost absurdly simple storytelling. When Ted speaks to the team at halftime, good as Sudeikis is, he's not telling a story or sharing wisdom; he's just saying thanks for everything. Rebecca does the same at the airport, the script strangely bland and unmemorable even at its most poignant moments. If you don't think this season of "Ted Lasso" has taken an overly-simplistic approach to its own story, consider the end of Rupert Mannion (Anthony Head). The show's cartoonishly villainous character storms out onto the field in a literal black cape, for God's sake, and gets booed as he leaves. Whatever that is, it's a far cry from the transcendent, emotional, and witty moments of the show's first two seasons.

Most of all, "Ted Lasso" feels like a letdown because it offered us the very connection Ted himself offered the team, then took it away. When the unorthodox coach built trust with his team, he was building trust with us too. When he helped the team shake off their sense of ironic emotional distance and embrace earnestness, even the most cynical viewers were able to do so too. But people use ironic distance as a tool to protect ourselves from feeling foolish, and I'm sorry to say that "Ted Lasso" season 3, with its meandering plots, regressing characters, and lack of emotional coherence, ultimately made me feel foolish for loving and trusting the show so much to begin with. AFC Richmond may have won the big game, and the finale certainly scored some vital points in its last moments, but overall, season 3 of "Ted Lasso" still feels like a tough loss.