Do You Still Believe?

Ted Lasso “believe[s] in belief.” (NOTE: Season 2 Spoilers discussed through S2 E07)

The unshakeable power and symbolism of belief runs at the core of this dramedy (after the show’s last episode, there’s no characterizing it as anything lighter), in obvious but also subliminal ways. It is as much a running barometer for the feelings and emotions of our leading players on the show as it is the compass and external motivating force for the footballers we see on the pitch in each episode. And that makes sense. It is Ted’s ethos, one that initially radiates as brightly as the the bright yellow cardstock on which he scrawls the teams now-iconic new motto at the very beginning of the series. But like any good TV show theme, it gets a lot more mileage from being challenged—and that it is, constantly throughout the show.

Throughout the series, the question of belief shows the audience a glimpse of at least Higgins, Rebecca, Nate, Sam Obisanya, and Ted at a number of key moments, and (at the risk of leaning into the confirmation bias of having seen, now, 17 episodes of this show) sets the stage perfectly for each character’s movement throughout the series.

In the pilot, Higgins is all optimism, telling Rebecca, “I really believe we can turn things around.” He is our first believer, optimistic about the future of the club (at least until he hears of Rebecca’s scheme) — and he stays true to the theme, showing the moral high ground by quitting in the face of Rebecca’s continued sabotage, until she turns things around herself.

At a charity benefit in in the fourth episode of season one, Ted, upon meeting Rupert and taking in further criticism of the players’ latest performance, says, “Who knows? Maybe we’ll turn it around, huh?” to which Rupert, surprising even himself, replies, “Oh my god, I believe you. Do you believe him?” Rebecca, in response, can’t bring herself to say she believes in the club - it’s her mission for the enterprise to fail. Instead, she calmly states, “Of course I believe in Ted.” The theme of belief is in crisis mode when it comes to Rebecca - but it finds a surprisingly poignant home in her faith in Ted (which, even if performative early on, becomes her genuine view as they become closer).

Roy Kent, one of the toughest cookies to crack (rather, biscuits to break) struggles with belief in the coach, the team, AND himself. But by season 1 episode 9, with an emphatic bang of his hand against the “Believe” sign in the locker room (more on that latter) we see a man who can quiet his own insecurities and ego (about his declining performance, about his age, about his challenges as he nears retirement) and take heart in “believe.”

And then there’s Ted. Ted, who, in his own words, believes in hope. Believes in belief. But the cracks in his ethos have been forming for a long time now. In the second episode of season 2, Sam Obisanya airs his grievances with Ted, believing Ted has taken Jamie back onto Richmond FC. Lamenting the negative atmosphere Jamie generated within the team—an attitude that reflected the opposite of the team’s moniker—Sam suggests they can still achieve without their second ace (the first being Dani Rojas). “Have we won yet? No - but we will! I believe that. Don’t you?”

Ted’s facial expression in that moment, and the fact that he doesn’t even answer the question, speaks volumes. He no longer believes. Whether it’s in the team’s ability to win, in his ability as a coach to inspire them, or even in his ethos of positivity (the negative consequences of which seem to seriously call into question his strategy of moving through the world), Ted is at a crossroads. Season 2, by exploring Ted’s trauma (with excruciating slowness, for those honoring the week-by-week viewing schedule) is looking at what it was that caused Ted to question his belief in belief, and the fight that it’ll take to get his faith back—if it was ever truly there.

As one final bonus—and not to get too symbolic—notice how the “Believe” sign in the Richmond AFC locker room was patched to the wall, all the way back in the beginning of the series. It’s a little crooked, a little rough around the edges, held to the wall with black tape. The “Believe” sign is as much a metaphor for Ted’s journey (or that of any number of characters on this series) as it is a hokey sports mantra to believe in oneself. And as the message comes through loud and clear (literally, on bright yellow cardstock)—not unlike the show’s ostensible overall message about the power of positivity—the black tape that holds it together nonetheless marries that optimism with a binding force that is more fragile and ominous.

That same black painter’s tape is used in Season 2 to cover up the Dubai Air logos on Sam Obisanya’s and the other players’ shirts in protest of the airline’s parent company, Cerithium Oil, and its impact on the Nigerian environment. Now even the tape signifies belief, but also signifies a battle to be fought.

So at it’s core, Ted Lasso isn’t just a frothy and soothing tale about the unshakeable power of belief—it’s a story whose constant tension is rooted in the battle towards choosing to believe, and how to go on when you can’t. Here’s hoping that as season 2 continues, it will be a battle well fought.