Ted Lasso Season 3 Episode 3, “4-5-1,” is obviously a reference to a football formation where the newly arrived superstar Zava is the “1.” The ultimate alpha. The striker supreme. I mean, we all assumed that from the jump, right? Unless you thought that it was a reference to Ray Bradbury’s classic novel, in which case “451” would also be the temperature at which Richmond burns. And it sort of is! But there isn’t any fire. Not yet. All we’ll have by the end of this banger of an episode is rumors of smoke. I wrote some more lines with this metaphor in it, but I don’t think it works particularly well. And, since we’re also in Ted Lasso‘s third consecutive week of season-finale-heavy episodes, it’s probably best to just dive right the hell in.
We open on…Colin! For the first time ever! It’s the beginning of the day; the Welsh Dragon wakes up in bed, alone. The soundtrack is Fastball’s so-timeless-it-can-only-be-1999 hit, “Out Of My Mind.” As Colin gets dressed, we spot for just a moment a stack of books on the floor beneath a chair. If you didn’t blink, you may have noticed that the one text with a visible spine is Richard Rayner’s novel The Cloud Sketcher. Hmm, a turn-of-the-recent-century novel in part about a man who loves someone he can never be with? I wonder if Coach Beard’s Book Club will have anything to say about such a curious choice. I mean, it clearly doesn’t have anything to do with Colin. Right? Right.
OH HEY NOW! Here’s Mr. Strong And Capable Man himself finally getting his due. In terms of screen time, I mean. I have been a Colin-slash-Billy Harris fan since the very beginning of this ridiculous delightful show; when he met with Dr. Sharon last season and said “I am a strong and capable man. I’m not a piece of shit,” I just about broke down from empathetic shock. Also, the #1 fan theory about Colin kinda since Season 1 has been that he is quietly gay. So, whether this was planned from the outset and the fans just sensed it or whether the writers developed the story after the fact, here we are.
Oh – right, the other fellow. This is Michael. (Ted voice: “Hi, Michael!” With accompanying Ted wave, of course.) Michael has made coffee, which Colin declines politely because, as Michael remembers, “Your body is a temple.” “I don’t know about that,” Colin replies. “More like a church in an airport.” Fitting, as Michael is literally about to jet off to Dubai. The two promise to text each other during their time apart (and despite what the closed captioning has to say, it really sounds like Colin says “sext” and not “text”), and then there’s the kiss goodbye and then Colin is out the door. So I’m guessing it’s not his house, then. What is, always has been, and always will be Colin’s, though? The orange Lamborghini in the driveway. Colin being Colin, he revs the engine up, puts it into drive – and promptly smacks into Michael’s garbage bins. God bless you, Colin; it’s still just way too much car for you.
And that’s the pre-credit sequence! Not bad, Ted Lasso folks! Not bad at all.
At Richmond HQ, there’s a stage on the pitch and fans in (half the) stands and a definite buzz in the air. The occasion: Zava’s big arrival, WOO ZAVA GET FUCKIN HYPE and so on. Except that Zava, being the prima donna that he is, is nowhere to be found. And he’s a football god and all of that, but folks are maybe getting a bit antsy. Among those folks: the good people responsible for AFC Richmond’s day-to-day operations. Namely, Rebecca.
Within the facility’s bowels, though, nobody seems particularly fussed. Ted, Beard, and Roy are instead discussing strategy. Now that Zava’s a part of the team, they’re going to have to shift the starting lineup. Which means Colin is going to lose his spot. As Roy puts it, “Colin’s a chameleon. He can change according to the situation.” HMMM NO SUBTEXT THERE. Also, as a striker, Zava’s presence means either Jamie or Dani – you know, Richmond’s OG Two Aces – will have to shift to midfield. The room votes 3-0 to shift Dani, because Jamie is like Ted’s mother’s “Precious Moments figurines collection”: in the wise words of Roy Kent, “He’s a fragile little bitch.” This leads to a reference of solving a problem like Maria, which leads to a discussion of The Sound of Music, which leads to Ted’s equally wise point that “If you ask me, the Nazis were the real problem in that movie.” Which leads, inexorably, to the latest iteration of the Diamond Dogs revealing their favorite Julie Andrews characters. The only one I remember is Higgins’, because his is Mary Poppins and so is mine. Also because Ted calls him “Higgy-bear” and I love that so very much.
Other evidence of Zava’s looming presence: for starters, he’s got his own whole-ass corner of the locker room.
It might as well be an altar, the way the rest of the Greyhounds are talking about him. Nobody can believe that the great Zava is now one of them. (Or will be, as soon as he actually arrives.) Dani, in particular, is just head-over-heels for this guy. When he was a boy, Zava was his everything – his first football idol, the first player he tried to emulate; he even “made love for the first time to Zava boots.” Zoreaux: “I think you mean ‘in.'” Dani: “No.” In addition to being a goofy-ass, borderline disgusting punchline, this is also an interesting callback to Colin’s throwaway line in “The Diamond Dogs” (Season 1 Episode 8) when he tells Keeley “I’d fuck a pair of Jordans.” To be clear, no, I don’t think Ted Lasso is equating shoe sex to gay sex; I suppose the only conclusion I would perhaps draw right now is that shoe sex appears to be more common among footballers than you might think & that for that reason it makes a convenient situational beard.
More troubling, in the instant, is Isaac’s response to Dani’s admission: “Sounds a bit gay, man.” Oh man. If Ted Lasso is setting up Isaac, Colin’s buddy from the pre-Lasso days, to be AFC Richmond’s leading homophobe? Then Season 3 is setting us up for some dark forest exploration indeed. Bumbercatch follows up with “I am gay.” (Pregnant pause.) “For Zava.” Laughter; back-slapping; etc. Oof. Sam makes it funnier but actually worse by observing that some men have a charisma “that transcends orientation.” And apparently that list includes Norm MacDonald? I wouldn’t have reached for his name so quickly, but I also can’t deny that comedy is universally attractive. Colin, we’ve got a transition coming up; can you get us there please? “OK, you’ve convinced me,” he says; “I’ll sleep with Zava.” More laughter and more back-slapping and a deeper pit in my stomach.
Oh – and in the middle of all this Jamie shows up and literally sees an evil omen flash before his eyes.
LOL I love this image. Also the fact that Jamie is turning into the voice of reason (about which more later). Also-also the fact that Jamie’s unpleasant orange truth mirrors, whether intentionally or not, a certain other talented prick’s structurally and thematically similar unpleasant realization on a completely different television show just a few months ago. Better Call Tartt might not have legs, but let’s see how the rest of Season 3 plays out before we start spinning the spinoff wheel.
Down on the pitch, Rebecca is at “Where the fuck is he” levels of Zava-annoyance. Good news, though, Higgins is happy to report that she can discard her earlier worry – an e-signature is, in fact, legally binding. (Except that Zava signed his contract “You’re welcome.”) Shandy offers to create a distraction by taking her shirt off and running across the pitch; instead, Rebecca orders Higgins to take the stage. Why, exactly? For pure improv and media value alone, I’d give Shandy’s idea the green light. (Also, did they really not have more of an elaborate introduction and / or full program planned for the Zavster?) As she storms upstairs with Keeley and Ted in tow, we find out why Rebecca is so especially agitated: Zava’s delayed entrance has made her late for a very important date. Ted is not entirely convinced that Zava doesn’t have the wrong Richmond: “I’d just hate to think that he’s in the middle of Virginia right now, waiting for us.” LOL you fuckin goofball.
So they get up to Rebecca’s office and of course Zava is right there, sitting at her desk.
Rebecca is unimpressed and still can’t believe that he’s over two hours late. Rebecca, I know you’ve got a psychic to see, but I find it hard to believe that you are the only person in the stadium right now who doesn’t understand that super-duper superstars cannot be relied upon to show up on time for any damn thing, ever. You don’t have to like the arrangement. But don’t be naïve about it.
On the other hand – folks who are naïve about Zava? Let’s start with Ted – Ted Lasso, of all people! – who is as awed by the man as a bobby soxer by Young Sinatra. Zava says to him, “My leader.” (He speaks in this weird hushed half-gravelly, half-gentle whisper-growl – it’s like Christian Bale’s Batman reading his kids a bedtime story.) “I am an empty vessel, filled with gold. You are my rock. Mold me.” That is…a bit of a mixed & ludicrous metaphor, but the sentiment is (mostly) right.
And here is Ted’s reaction:
Zava then moves on to Keeley, apologizes for his “actions today [having made her] job much more difficult,” calls her “my Queen,” and kisses her hand. Is Keeley Jones immune to such charm? She is not!
Next, the Zavster hears from Rebecca that Higgins is Richmond’s Director of Football Operations, touches foreheads with him, and says, simply, “You are the glue.” And Higgins is overwhelmed – but not to the extent that Ted is.
When Zava heads off to the locker room to meet the rest of the team – Rebecca calls after him “Do you even know where you’re going?” and Zava, without turning around, a finger raised in triumph, responds, “I do not” – this is the sticky gobsmacked crowd he leaves in his wake.
It’s more of the same in the locker room. Every player is visibly awed by Zava’s presence, except Jamie (of course) and Roy (with whom Zava exchanges respectful nods, which I guess is about the Roy equivalent). Dani says “He’s like an angel” and Jan Maas, of all fucking people, replies “You’re downgrading it. He’s clearly a…god.” First up, God (Zava owns The Sun?) asks to speak to “the most important person in the room.” Who is it – the coach? The (former) star player? The most veteran player? No, silly; it’s the kitman. At first, Zava nods toward Jamie (HA!) before Will steps forward. Zava announces that he, too, started off as a humble kitman when he, too was just eleven years old. (Will: “…I’m 25.”) And so it is the passion of this mid-twenties prepubescent that fuels Zava even today.
Oh – and Zava obscures Ted entirely or almost entirely every time he moves around the room.
It’s clear that he’s not trying to do this. (Or, if you want to play the really deep game, that he’s not doing it consciously but that it’s been so long since Zava wasn’t the focus of every team for which he’s played that he literally and figuratively obscures his coach without even meaning to.) He does call the team “my brothers” and invites them to breathe with him. Zava closes his eyes and engages in some deep-ass, vaguely Eastern / meditiation-y breathing. And everybody follows his lead – even Roy! Well, Roy keeps one eye open. But, again, that’s the Roy Kent equivalent of going all-in.
(It’s worth pointing out that Zoreaux keeps both eyes open at all times. But I think that’s more a reflection of his status as the starting keeper – always ready for anything and everything.)
And what next but Zava’s first meeting with his new coaches. Which meeting Zava convenes. He stares at the eleven blue dots on the white board and asks, as pensively as every quietly mad genius you’ve ever heard, “Which one of these is me?” Neither Beard nor Roy nor Ted know what to say at first (come the fuck on guys); it’s Ted who finally fumbles out that basically Zava can be whichever one he wants. And so the Zavaraster rearranges the board while we remain in firm close-up on his quiet mad genius face. Then he announces “I will see you tomorrow” and exits and we are left with what else but this…game…plan?
PHEW ZAVA IS A LOT. I should say, though, that Maximilian Osinski is playing him perfectly: he’s the exact right mix of loving and endearing plus casually arrogant and the calm magnificent self-assurance that comes with the world serving itself to you on a galaxy platter for so long that you simply assume this is the way things are supposed to be. We’re now in Season 3 of a beloved and well-established show that is itself about what it means to be beloved and how we treat other people and ourselves; given how much of Richmond’s world and the characters that populate it is already established and how well the cast has gelled, Zava’s writing and performance could have very easily gone sideways and wound up seeming like a forced, Poochie-level addition at best or just a cheap dumb trick at worst. I am not the biggest How I Met Your Mother fan in the world, but that show set the gold standard for talking about an unseen character for so long that there was just no goddamn way they could possibly actually cast the character and have it work. But Cristin Milioti absolutely fuckin just nailed that role on that show and I’m getting similar vibes from Osinski’s portrayal of Zava here.
Other things that are a lot? Psychics! LOL this was Rebecca’s very important date; this was the thing that she was freaking out about missing because Zava made her so late. It’s her appointment with Tish, her mom’s psychic! Rebecca could not be more unsettled if she were a cat in a room full of Ruperts in rocking chairs. She mistakes Tish’s offer of a drink for something alcoholic – it is decidedly not yet the drinking hour – and then when Rebecca half-kiddingly asks for a White Russian, Tish responds that she’s “fresh out of Kahlúa…after hosting a Big Lebowski-themed party for a colleague. But would straight vodka suffice?” Tish is terrific. Tish is as quietly unsettling as Zava is quietly nurturing; there’s actual warmth under there. Rebecca just can’t sense it because this is her reaction to every single thing that happens in this scene:
I mean she could not be coiled any more tightly; she sits as if she’s ready to SPRING through the window any second. Tish gets down a blue-and-gold (HINT) ceramic bowl for the two of them to hold during the session. Tish says she sees “an object in [Rebecca’s] hand – it’s very special….It’s a green matchbook.” She also sees Rebecca’s “shite in nining armor,” hmmm who does that sound like, it’s all very mysterious isn’t it. Tish, deep in it now, hears thunder and lightning and Rebecca is “upside-down, and you’re drenched – but you’re safe.”
This is as far as Rebecca’s tether will allow. As she gets up to go, though, Tish continues – out of the blue, she says “You will have a family.” Rebecca stares at her. “You’re going to be a mother.” OH SHIT if that isn’t a trigger for Rebecca then none exist. “Fuck you,” Rebecca replies, in a voice we have only ever heard her use with Rupert. You know – the man who denied her the chance to become a (biological) mother. “I’ve always thought you were harmless because my mother could afford you, but you are actually dangerous. And you are fucking cruel.” Mannnnn that was DIFFICULT to watch. But Tish the Dish, far from feeling apologetic or remorseful or wicked or confused, looks instead content and even happy with the vision she just shared.
From there we launch into some good quick nourishing comic relief. First up is a short scene in the press-free press room where Keeley and Shandy talk to a few of the players about upcoming interviews. Which are now and for the foreseeable future 100% Zava-related. Dani is fine with this arrangement. I am starting to worry about the amount of character development and level of plot involvement that Dani Rojas is getting this season. Which is to say: none and very little. Where is our glorious name-singing Dani Rojas of Season 1; where is the accidental dog murderer’s guilt of Season 2? (It was only there for a minute and a half, but still.) I don’t want Dani to be just a Zava fanboy. Dani is an Ace, god damn it all! Let him lead the charge!
Anyway, I mention this scene mainly to point out that Shandy suggests the guys get the interviews to go viral by doing something crazy like eating their own hair. Then Roy drops by just to tell Keeley that he’ll break his “NO INTERVIEWS” rule for her, if she would like him to do some. Keeley accepts graciously, but Shandy is playing full-court defense. (Yes, that’s a basketball metaphor; other sports are beautiful, too.) She gets all up in Roy’s face about how he broke up with her friend here. When she finally introduces herself, Roy takes a long pause. “Oh….Shandy. You used to eat your own hair, right?” Shandy, still staring right into Roy’s eyes: “…Yeah. I did.” More scenes featuring showdowns between Brett Goldstein and Ambreen Razia, please and thank you.
Then we’re back in the coaches’ office, where Jamie would like to offer a little observation in the final moments before Richmond’s big home debut and Zava’s big debut with the club. He’s worried that a player like Zava will upset Richmond’s chemistry. Because he “know[s] a lot of players like him. They’re all self-absorbed glory hounds who only think about themselves.” Giggles. Beard is tickled by Jamie’s reaction.
He asks if it isn’t just a little bit ironic that this worry is coming from Jamie Tartt doo-do-do-do-do-do. Actually, Coach, it really isn’t – have you noticed how much Jamie has grown up since Season 1? He’s a proper leader now, fully on board with the Lasso Way. When you’ve got an Ace like him who can control his prickishness and unleash it only when doing so would be for the good of the team? Man, you’ve got a force to be reckoned with. It would be like if Bruce Banner could Hulk out at will. And were well-written.
In any case, Ted tells Jamie that they need to at least give this whole Zava Experiment a few games before they can judge it properly. Jamie says “Thanks for hearing me out” and Ted says “Thank you for speaking your mind. Please continue to do so.” It’s a genuine exchange! This is Ted we’re talking about – there’s absolutely no sarcasm in his words! Ted’s reaction to Jamie is my reaction to my son when he asks permission to do something special instead of just going and doing it. Which is to say that this little interaction made my heart soar. Even more than it did when Jamie then turned to Coach Beard and said “Oh – and I weren’t being ironic. I was being hypocritical.” OH MY GOD JAMIE YOU JUST BURNED COACH BEARD’S FACE BRAIN AND CAP OFF WITHOUT EVEN MEANING TO. And Beard knows it, too:
LOOK AT HIS FACE! Beard has never been this lost in his entire life. Ted asks if Jamie’s right and Beard can only make a noise.
Ted then points out that that – Jamie being right – is actually ironic. Which is correct! And Beard can only make another noise.
I really wanted to call those three screengrabs of Beard “Fear, Emptiness, Despair” and thus slip a quick little Napalm Death reference into this Ted Lasso recap. But only the latter two terms are accurate descriptors of those images; there’s absolutely no fear in item #1. So let’s just call this the halfway point of the recap and take a quick little mid-90s death-groove break to recharge ourselves instead.
OK – break over; it’s Match Day at the Dogtrack! Everyone is giddy! Zava is afoot! Magic is in the air! These three chuckleheads can barely contain themselves!
In the entirety of Richmond, perhaps only Chris Powell is less than fully erect over Zava’s presence. On air with Arlo, he notes that Zava is “Like Pelé. If every letter was different.”
Locker room; match prep. Ted does a bit about the Wolverhampton Wolves, Richmond’s opponent, which are not called any of the nicknames he thinks they are called. Ted, I love you, but you’ve got to pick up a few more football facts here and there. The takeaway, though, is that the game plan really is All Zava, All The Time: he is to take all penalty kicks and all corner kicks and also passing to him is the Greyhounds’ first, second, and third option on offense.
Zava is of course everywhere and nowhere for all of this. He’s just chilling out back there in his corner, meditating in complete stillness like he just drank the Water of Life.
Then he awakens with a firm “I am ready” and walks over to the team huddle and becomes the team huddle. As in, Zava is now playing the dual role of both Ted (see him back there? Kinda? Almost?) and the Believe sign.
Eek. “4-5-1” does a beautiful job of getting us all so massively hyped and excited for and in love with Zava that it’s startlingly easy to forget how he is the diametric opposite of everything Ted coaches and preaches and lives. Hell, even Ted’s forgotten all about it? Never forget that his first words to Zava after their proper introduction is “Hey, if you score goals like you talk, we’re gonna be just fine.” When Ted Lasso drinks the kool-aid, what fucking chance to the rest of us have?
But Ted hasn’t reached that low realization quite yet. (He’s got to get to this one first!) It’s exactly four minutes to match time and Ted wants to call Henry to wish his son luck in his own football match, which is also about to start. Just, 4,400 miles away. Except Ted forgot his mobile phone and he can’t remember Michelle’s cell number by heart. (At first he’s startled by this and thinks it might be a bad thing, but Beard suggests “I think it’s just a thing.”) But he does remember his old landline phone’s number, so he just calls that instead. And who should pick up? Why, Henry, of course!
OOF. Nope, little Henry hasn’t grown up in a big hurry – THAT, my friends, is the infamous Jake. As in, the guy who got Henry his big flashy welcome-home present in the season premiere. As in, Dr. Jake. You know – the marriage counselor! The one Ted’s referenced several times? Yeah, he’s now fucking Michelle. As in, Michelle! You know – Ted’s ex-wife? The one who used to see Dr. Jake with Ted? Yeah. This is the perfect way for Ted to find out about all of this. Nothing like ripping a bandage off so hard you injure yourself even worse, am I right?
Henry, who has no idea what the fuck is going on and is also completely unaware of it, tells Ted to “please tell Zava that many of my friends’ mothers like his abs.” Michelle takes the phone and asks Ted if they can “chat when we both have more time.” OH I THINK SOME CHATTING IS IN ORDER, MICHELLE. Ted somehow manages to keep his composure the entire time he’s on the phone. When he hangs up, though, he looks more confused, more hurt, and flat-out angrier than we’ve ever seen him.
Out on the pitch, Ted is forced to stand still and watch his team play soccer when the match is I’m gonna say probably the farthest thing from his mind right now. His hands start to shake uncontrollably. The music builds. We’ve seen this before; we’ve seen it happen so devastatingly; Ted is going to have another panic attack on the pitch –
– except that this time the instant the ref blows the whistle to start the match Zava takes the ball and fucking nails it into the goal from fucking midfield with a kick that would make Carli Lloyd proud. (In all seriousness, though, Carli’s was the greatest goal I’ve ever seen and probably ever will see.) And OH, THE JOYFUL PANDEMONIUM DID ENSUE.
From here, we launch straight into a WIN MONTAGE! It’s super fucking fun. It’s one of the most fun sequences Ted Lasso has ever done, and I’ll remind you that this show is both fun and joyful as hell. (In between all the crippling depression.) Remember how last season began with a record-setting tie streak? Well this year Zava leads Richmond all the way up the table with a mega-cool win streak and a shitload of unbelievable goals. We’ve got a scorpion kick. We’ve got a bicycle kick. We’ve got Richmond doing it and doing it and doing it well. We’ve got Adriano Celentano’s 1972 nonsense-masterpiece “Prisencolinensinainciusol” for a soundtrack and it’s absolutely the perfect-perfect song for such unprecedented madness because not only is it a bop and a half, it’s literally gibberish lyrics meant to sound like English and that kind of do sound like English if you’re like me and had never heard this song before this episode. In other words it’s weird even though it’s familiar but it works and it’s fun as hell and so you’ve got to just go along with it. Just like Zava!
While Richmond wins, Zava leads the team in locker room meditation. Or, rather, the team sans Jamie:
Other montage-worthy off-the-pitch stuff: Rebecca shuffles through her matchbooks at home, looking for a green one and failing. Keeley walks down the hall at Richmond HQ, deep in conversation with Shandy, and passes Roy without even noticing him. Nate pauses his doomscrolling of self-hate long enough to read an article about Richmond’s success and look concerned and hurt and confused. Colin texts-slash-sexts Michael asking when he’ll be back. In the pub, Baz announces he got a job – hey, good for you, Baz! At his still-unopened restaurant, Sam tastes a forkful of something from his (female and hot and presumably also Nigerian, probably all coincidences though) head chef and smiles his approval. Ted talks with Dr. Sharon about the betrayal he feels, and Dr. Sharon’s response still strikes me as perhaps a little too…indifferent? Oh, and Rupert gets angry after one of Richmond’s wins and throws his phone again and shouts “Fuck it!” even though his little girl is in the room with him and is definitely of word-parroting age. Such a thoughtful parent, Rupert is. I wonder if he’s changed a single diaper since becoming a father who if he’s very very lucky will be able to watch his daughter graduate university from his wheelchair and maybe even still be able to both think in and speak intelligible words.
On the pitch, Zava steals a goal from Jamie, who it would appear has yet to score in any match this season. This does nothing to quell Jamie’s simmering resentment – but the real kicker (WINK) comes when Zava wins the big Manchester United match with a stoppage time bicycle kick out of a child’s daydream. Even Jamie is elated by Richmond’s first win at the Theatre of Dreams since well before he was even born. But his elation disappears when Zava takes off his jersey to flex for the crowd and Jamie is confronted with a back tattoo depicting…the exact same thing.
Two cultural items of note here. The first is that Zava is based on several football superstars and primarily on Zlatan Ibrahimović, and his back tattoo was influenced by Zlatan’s own back sleeve. The second is that when Zava’s bicycle kick sends the ball into the back of the net, the song changes from “Prisencolinensinainciusol” to “Superstar” from Jesus Christ Superstar. It’s a surprisingly effective transition, musically, in addition to being a seamless one thematically.
And thus does a voiceover from Arlo conclude the montage with the news that Richmond has ascended all the way to third in the Premier League. They’ve got a 5-1-0 record and are behind two teams about which we know nothing and will probably never hear from again. (Also: I was initially confused by Arlo’s use of the phrase “six wins on the bounce” to refer to Richmond’s winning streak, since the graphic itself clearly shows five. But I have since learned from one of Ireland’s foremost football authorities that draws do indeed count as part of a winning streak across the pond. So – if you were confused by the same thing, you may now rest easy.)
I tell you what, though – after all that, I sure am hungry. Aren’t you guys hungry? Fortunately for us, Sam would like everyone to come to the soft opening of his restaurant. He chooses to invite everyone immediately after the win, when the team has just arrived back in the locker room, I guess because they’re a captive audience and also elated and thus more likely to say Yes? It seems like kind of a weird afterthought-type situation, but whatever! Yay Sam’s restaurant!
If the WIN MONTAGE is one of Ted Lasso‘s most buoyant sequences, the Restaurant Scene is one of its most elaborate and involved. The entire rest of the episode is a string of extended vignettes all taking place against the backdrop of this alleged celebration, and it plants a double-pocketful of narrative seeds that I can’t wait to watch germinate and grow over the rest of Season 3. For starters, there’s Sam’s ongoing flirtation with his head chef (she’s unnamed in this episode, but her name is Simi and she’s ably played by Precious Mustapha and I’m sure we’ll be seeing oh just a pinch more of her as time marches on). Simi tells a nervous Sam “Don’t serve my food with that face.” But she smiles as she says it and he smiles back at her and yeah these two are definitely fucking this season.
Dani is anxious for Zava to arrive because he’s made him a friendship bracelet. Michael arrives – oh hey, it’s Michael! Colin’s Michael! – but their lips remain sealed while in public; Colin introduces Michael as his “pal” and Michael takes the opportunity to tease Colin for being a poor “wingman.” You know, when they’re out there picking up the ladies. Unsurprisingly, this joke gets a big laugh, and Michael is thus ingratiated. Also at their table: Isaac wants Sam to know that this is “the best moimoi I’ve ever tasted in my life.” And Sam accepts the compliment with grace, as Sam so often does. But apparently he didn’t accept it hard enough, because Isaac is not fucking around about this moimoi:
Man, I really, really hope Isaac isn’t going to turn out to be a total hard-line asshole about Colin being gay. I can’t overstate how much I hope I’m wrong about this, and that he’ll embrace Colin and be his biggest defender the way he always has been so far. But “4-5-1” is giving me a bad feeling about their relationship.
Across the room, Ted is still stalking Dr. Jake’s social media pages. Beard orders them enough drinks to make a spouse agree to let Santa Claus come and stay indefinitely. He’s gonna be there for Ted all night; he’s Ted’s rock.
OOPS sorry dude Jane is here and she’s still threatened by your relationship with Beard so she’s got to mark her territory. She asks Beard “Are you CHEATING on me?” Beard: “Yeah…with you.” LOL OK go to it you complete and total goof-balls. Ted says “Y’all’s baggage just matches right up, don’t it.” He watches them make out.
Over at the bar, Rebecca and Keeley survey the room. Rebecca, feeling no less vulnerable after her psychic appointment than she did before the winning streak, notices Sam and Simi enjoying each other’s company. Boy, she and Ted really cannot catch a break in the companionship department, can they?
Also feeling a bit mopey and down-in-the-dumps: one J. Tartt, who’s at a table by himself in a little cornered-off alcove in the middle of the room and slouched down in his seat like a high schooler suffering Saturday school yet again. Roy takes the seat next to him. This should be good.
Roy comments that frowning in the middle of a winning streak is not a good look. Jamie retorts that Roy frowned his whole career. “No,” Roy replies, “I never smiled – that’s different.” LOL it’s the “This isn’t black; this is dark heathered charcoal” of Season 3. Also, he’s right. He tells Jamie that he “used to be the best” on Richmond. But now he’s ceded the title to Zava and is acting like a “pre-Madonna.” Jamie has apparently decided to be a wise little Yoda for Episode 3 at least – there’s his exchange with Beard, and there’s also his response here, in which he chides Roy for not knowing that the term is “prima donna.” Roy, flustered, thought that “pre-Madonna” had something to do with the time before Madonna was an iconic pop star and I am laughing like a thorough idiot but the *point* here is not that, the point is that Jamie doesn’t want to “just keep up with [Zava]. I wanna be better than him.” Hmm – but how could you achieve such a thing? Roy has an idea: “I could train you.” OH MY. “But only if you fucking mean it.” OH MY YES. Jamie asks when they start and Roy smacks the meatball out of his hand. “Right fucking now.” Just then a waitress comes by and sees the meatball smear on the tile and is like “Come on, man.” Roy apologizes. The waitress rolls her eyes. I am simply choking on my own giggles. The comic timing in this scene is delicious.
Roy amends his previous statement: “We start tomorrow. Four AM.” Then he points to the smear. “Clean that up.” I’m not going to type out what I want to here because an “lol” with that many “l’s” trailing along the end of it is simply too much for a publication of Antagonist Blog dot com’s prestige. Also: ROY AND JAMIE TRAINING BUDDIES FUCK AND YES. This is gonna rule.
More doins: Shandy is flirting with Zava pretty hard. Recall that Zava is married; it was his wife who wanted to move to London and who influenced him to sign with an EPL club in the first place. Rebecca asks Keeley how it’s going with little Miss Appetite for Consumption (of hair) and Keeley says “I love how not shy she is.” Another rift exposed! And Shandy promptly sits down next to Jamie. So Keeley proposes a toast for herself and Rebecca, still watching Sam and Simi: “There are better things ahead than anything we leave behind.”
Speaking of head and behinds, Sassy is here. She makes a beeline for Ted, as is her wont.
Ted tells Sassy about Dr. Jake. She thinks that “that’s…borderline unethical.” Not the most sympathy you could have offered, Sass, but any port in a storm.
Zava gets up to go and Sam thanks him for coming. He asks Sam where his restaurant gets its avocados. Sam says that the Venn Diagram of avocados and West African cuisine is two uninterrupted circles. Oh, well – I guess Zava’s avocado farm will have to find a buyer elsewhere. Except that Zava, being Zava, tells Sam that his food doesn’t feature a lot of avocados “yet.” And then he departs and Sam looks after him with a “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” face. Another rift exposed! I tell you, there’s no shortage of potential for seismic activity around Richmond these days.
But Sam isn’t deterred for long. Simi hands him a cardboard box, filled with Mysterious Contents. The kind that make Sam beam his gigantic infectious super-sweet Sam Grin when he peeks inside. He thanks Simi with Sam Warmth and starts handing out the box’s contents to all his guests. Gosh, I wonder what Sam’s got? When he gets to Rebecca and Keeley, we find out: Simi had some matchbooks printed up with the restaurant’s name on them! Aww, that was sweet of her. It’s called “Ola’s,” which if I remember correctly is Sam’s father’s name. Aww, that was sweet of him.
Oh – and the matchbooks are green. Rebecca isn’t too rattled, though.
HAHAHA SIKE, Rebecca gets a look like she’s seen all 400 of Richmond’s World War I ghosts and pounds down a shot and orders another one before she’s taken a breath. I guess we’ll be seeing Tish again pretty soon then!
Now it’s Trent Crimm’s turn to head out for the evening. He thanks Sam and begins his walk home. As one does. About half a block from the restaurant, across the street, a car pulls out. As they do. The car turns and its headlights illuminate something happening in the alley.
“Oh HELLO guys, don’t mind me” –Trent Crimm, investigative reporter. And they do not: Colin and Michael keep on making out like two lovers who haven’t seen each other in several weeks. They don’t notice anything else. I have to say, they didn’t choose the most concealed spot to do this. Nor should they have to! Just, when you’re as clearly invested in keeping your sexuality a secret as Colin is (and which he should not have to be!), maybe back ten or twenty steps further into the alley before letting passion overcome you. Which is of course the point: you try not being overcome by passion sometime. It’s damn near impossible! And it’s frankly a shitty thing to ask someone to try and do. Even – nay, especially – when that someone is yourself.
And so Trent files this information away. Leonard Cohen’s “Everybody Knows” grabs the mic. Without a word, Trent continues walking.
Do I think that Trent Crimm is going to out Colin or otherwise use this knowledge to his personal advantage? I very much do not. But I do expect him to start thinking about why Colin still might not feel comfortable confiding in his teammates in spite of the unusually close, open, and nurturing locker room that Ted Lasso has created. Trent is writing a whole-ass book. That means playing the long-ass game. He’s not in this for quick scoops and big headlines; so many stories are too big for a single headline, and Trent of all people knows when he’s found one of them.
