Returning for its fourth season, Ted Lasso scores this time round from a stark new angle—the introduction of a women’s football team. No longer is Rebecca the only badass woman we get to watch; we are introduced to a whole new cast of strong, resilient and inspiring women. And it doesn’t matter whether you’re a football fan or not, because the show is so much more than just a game. It’s about empathy, vulnerability and relative optimism in the face of life’s challenges. No wonder Apple TV renewed the show for another season: the show’s plethora of accolades speaks for itself, including 13 Emmys and a commendable 89 per cent Rotten Tomatoes rating. 

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows though. The season opens in a local Kansas grocery store, where the audience is left wondering where on earth the football pitch went. This comes as a bit of a shock. Many viewers would have anticipated the gaffer to parlay his coaching expertise into something bigger and brighter in “the Sunflower State”. But this sunflower’s looking a tad droopy. In fact, the plot begins almost as sloppy as some of Richmond’s plays last season. Sure, it’s nice to know that even our hero Ted has his own ups and downs, but the plot at the beginning feels a bit stand-still. It gave me that irksome feeling, the one you get when you’ve been waiting at a red light for too long. 

Luckily, the light turns green when Rebecca, Keeley and Leslie Higgins pop up like a jack in the box, and in doing so, knock a whole lot of sense back into Ted. Cue a round of applause, because Ted is back on board—this time as the head coach of Richmond’s inaugural women’s football team, the Lady Greyhounds. 

Ted stays true to form. His scintillatingly comedic lines are sprinkled throughout the season, tempered by more cheesy “Great Googly Moogly!” Americanisms. His saccharine charm is balanced well by Rebecca’s powerhouse demeanour, with Higgins as her moral compass. Whilst these consistencies create a sense of comfort, some recurring aspects of the show seem recycled. And the irritable Ferris wheel of Keeley and Roy’s messy relationship is just one of them: it just keeps going round and round. 

Luckily, the women’s team break up this cycle and bring a fresh dynamic to the show. Sure, a little intense at first, there’s a bunch of nerves, a lot of adrenaline, and even more passion. But why should we be surprised? Put a group of tenacious, strong and fiercely competitive women in one small locker room, and that’s a pressure cooker just waiting to go off. These attributes are not just reflections of personality, but necessity. In a world where women’s sports are often underfunded and dismissed, these athletes must fight twice as hard as their male counterparts for recognition. This real-world pressure is alluded to through the Higgins Report: a sobering assessment of the team’s viability, burdened by a plague of financial risk. 

This creates an opportunity for the show to delve into the importance of sisterhood and teamwork in the face of misogyny and a resounding lack of support from the community. And Ted Lasso executes it perfectly. No sugarcoating, no easy optimism. Many scenes reveal the harsh, overwhelming and sometimes unmotivating realities of being a woman in professional sport, spreading awareness to its audience. 

And if you think that’s enough to crush a group of tough women, think again. What makes these players admirable isn’t just their resilience amidst immense backlash, it’s how they juggle more than just football. In the morning, they’re on the pitch running drills; in the afternoon, they're picking up their child from day care or studying to become a lawyer. This makes it clear that they’re not in it for the fame, money, or even the recognition. They’re in it for a united love of the game. This helps the team build their camaraderie both on and off the field, foregrounding the philosophy that “strong women stand up for themselves, and stronger women stand up for others”—words Higgins imparts to Rebecca. 

Players aside, one woman who caught my attention this season is coach Alice Chilton, played by Tanya Reynolds. Reynolds is no stranger to exemplary supporting roles. Her contrast with the quirky Lily Iglehart in Sex Education proves her talent for imbuing characters with emotional depth and a distinct voice. In Ted Lasso, her intense nature and high expectations initially come off as castigating, ostracising herself from the team. If you’re wondering, “where have I seen this before”, you’ve asked the right question. It’s hard to forget Nathan Shelley’s pernicious ego and jealousy towards Ted in the prior seasons. Luckily, this familiar subplot acts as a cautionary tale, incentivising Ted to redirect this intensity into passionate leadership. And most importantly, it illustrates the significance of supporting women. Whilst Alice is established as an acerbic and volatile character, sparks of a tender and misunderstood coach linger beneath the surface. 

So jump back onto that couch for the fourth season, because this is one you’ll not want to miss. This season takes you through all the emotions—screams of joy, laughter and frustration (ahem…Keeley and Roy) mingle together to create a perfect blend of relatable characters that pull you in for more. Just like Roy once said, “don’t you dare settle for fine”; and trust me, this new season has done anything but that.