It’s easy to resolve to change your life when on vacation and away from the everyday routine. Seeing those changes through, on the other hand, can be tricky. Where the previous episode, “Sunflowers,” found the Greyhounds and their entourage come to realizations about what they wanted out of life — genuine teamwork, true romantic connection, the ability to live out of the closet, a hallucination-inspired style of playing football that was new to Ted if not new to the world — episode seven, “The Strings That Bind Us,” depicts the sometimes tricky process of turning those realizations into action. It also introduces some new problems, specifically for Sam, and a sadistic new practice technique that almost seems designed to invite lawsuits (but, this being Ted Lasso, almost certainly will not).
As the episode begins, so do the days of a handful of characters embarking, or attempting to embark, on new phases of their lives as a Cranberries song swells on the soundtrack. Jack and Keeley meet for breakfast, and Keeley receives an extremely expensive gift from her new girlfriend. It’s one of many extravagances Jack is bestowing on her and there’s a word for that, which the episode will get to later. Across town, Nate, at a far more tentative stage of his relationship with Taste of Athens hostess Jade (Edyta Budnik) — as in he’s only mostly sure she knows he exists even after they shared baklava — waves through the window at the object of his affection. Meanwhile, Sam visits the restaurant where Simi (Precious Mustapha), his head chef, has gotten worked up over a new initiative taken by Brinda Barot, the U.K.’s home secretary, a woman hostile to refugees and immigrants. But Sam has preoccupations of his own: His father, whom he loves and respects like nobody else, is coming for a visit.
In other words, a bunch of characters have a lot on their plates. And we still have to get to Ted and his decision to bring a Total Football strategy to AFC Richmond. This requires Beard to offer the team a brief history of Total Football, growing impassioned as he likens it to everything from jazz to Lady Gaga to his mother’s sexual openness (this last one draws some puzzled remarks). In the newly bonded team, he finds a receptive audience. But Total Football means a lot of work, and Roy cautions it will take a long time before they’re ready. Unfortunately, Ted has other plans: It’s going into practice in this Saturday’s game against Arsenal.
That might involve rushing things, but the players aren’t the only ones worried about moving too fast. At the office, Barb passive-aggressively gives Keeley a hard time about receiving such a rare and precious gift from Jack, who is her boss (more or less). (There might also be some envy in the mix, given that Barb’s PJs-on-the-tube routine makes it clear she lives a less glamorous life.) Jack, on the other hand, is less concerned. It helps that she’s, in her words, “get-away-with-murder rich,” but mostly she seems just to want to be out in the open about it, and, some unsure looks from Barb aside, the office is onboard.
But is Rebecca? After Rebecca shares her story about the Handsome Dutch Stranger with Keeley, Keeley responds in kind. Rebecca is supportive but also a little worried that Jack is “love bombing” Keeley with a full-court press of presents and grand gestures. Rebecca knows the practice well, having been on the receiving end of it thanks to Rupert, and that did not work out well. She advises Keeley should keep her eyes open and be aware of red flags. Keeley counters that she doesn’t think she’s “love blind,” mistaking red for green, but there’s a new sense of caution when she meets Jack later at Taste of Athens for a modest but delicious dinner that Keeley can afford to pay for on her own.
Elsewhere on the romantic front, Nate gets grilled about his romantic life at his sister’s party. By the end, he learns that, like Siri before them, his family cannot answer an unanswerable question: “How can you tell if a girl really likes you or is just being nice to you?” Nate at least has a suspicion that Jade likes him, which he hopes to confirm by creating an elaborate pop-up box inspired by a romantic gesture from his parents’ courtship. This does not go to plan, but Jade says yes anyway. And, beyond that, she doesn’t stand him up as Nate feared she would.
Good for him, but are we supposed to like Nate now? Of course, ultimately, we are supposed to like Nate again. It would be against the show’s spirit if Nate didn’t eventually come around. But that means change, and has Nate changed? He certainly seems less full of himself, and while it initially looks like he’s excused himself from his conversation with Jade to do the transformational spitting routine that’s signaled the arrival of a more confident (and meaner) Nate in the past, he pulls back before expectorating. But if he has changed, when will that change restore his relationship with Ted and the others? And can we really like him until then?
In the meantime, Ted and Beard have to worry about a different sort of affection: Greyhounds fans. Amid a losing streak, May’s pub is less than bustling, and the trio of superfine feels emboldened to give Ted a piece of their mind. In return, they’re invited to join the Greyhounds at practice. This makes them witness to several different varieties of sadism: Yelling, marathon-running sessions, and, most memorably, a practice in which they’re forced to develop teamwork by being tied to one another by red strings attached to their penises. It’s a long scene designed to induce cringes, which it does, but maybe not for the reasons intended. This seems a little much even for Ted Lasso, though Roy’s later plan for an even more elaborate stringed-penis practice provides one of the episode’s biggest laughs.
The gambit pays off … sort of. The Total Football approach takes a while to gel and they still lose the game. Still, there’s a spark to their play that wasn’t there before, particularly after a typically digressive halftime speech from Ted that meanders through a story about how the Blue Collar Comedy Tour inspired his facial hair and eventually circles back to relevance, inspiring Jamie to fully assume the role of team leader for the first time. All this bodes well for the Greyhounds’ future.
All that drama on the field, first in practice, then in the game with Arsenal, can’t compare to what Sam’s going through. After attempting some kind, coolheaded engagement with Brinda Barot on social media — against the less generous, more confrontational Simi’s advice — he’s greeted with a torrent of abuse sent his way by Barot himself with some classic words of dismissal: “shut up and dribble.” This pushes the limits of even Sam’s kindness. When racist vandals attack the restaurant, breaking glass and defacing its walls, Sam finds his faith in humanity and his career tested.
That makes the visit of Sam’s father perfectly timed. We’ve heard of Ola (Nonso Anozie), for whom the restaurant is named, before, but we’ve never seen him, and it’s immediately clear why he looms so large in his son’s life. He radiates authority and kindness, and he helps Sam get his head straight before the game while encouraging him not to lose sight of why he opened the restaurant in the first place and why he must believe what he believes.
In the final scene, Sam has reason to have his shaken faith in humanity restored. The team has banded together to repair the restaurant, and they all enjoy a meal together, prepared by Ola himself. Sam’s dad doesn’t only approve of the restaurant bearing his name, he loves it (and likes Simi, too). It’s been a bad couple of days, but one night helps wash that away. But what about tomorrow?
Biscuits
• Jack, that copy of Sense and Sensibility belongs in a museum, not defaced in a misguided act of affection! Not to get too pedantic, but it’s unlikely that even someone as rich as Jack could get their hands on a signed first edition of that book. There most likely aren’t any signed first editions. Austen signatures are pretty rare in any form. In 2017, just the fragment of a letter on which she signed her first name sold for £12,500. Also, Sense & Sensibility was not published under Austen’s name in her lifetime. It was attributed to “A Lady.” And the true first edition was published in three volumes, not one. In 2020, one of what’s believed to be about 1,000 copies sold for $81,250. Undoubtedly, Jack could have afforded that, but the book she gives Keeley is clearly a forgery (or Ted Lasso is taking some liberties, which is fine).
• Siri: “Yes, Wonderkind.” Nate might seem less egotistical than before, but the egotism is still there.
• It’s a big week for family. Not only do we meet Ola, we also get to spend time with a bigger selection of Nate’s family. It’s the warmest depiction we’ve ever gotten of his home life.
• After remaining a prominent part of the background in previous appearances, Simi is starting to come into focus. She’s spirited and assertive in a way Sam is not. But they seem like a good match, don’t they? Hmm … (It’s also nice to see Sam get some time in the spotlight again and some more nice work from Toheeb Jamoh.)
• Ola’s scene with Rebecca is even squirmier than the red-string scene in its own way. It’s extremely nicely played with Anozie and Waddingham, perfectly capturing the experience of two people conveying that each understands what they know about the other in ways invisible to everyone else around them.
