Chapter Text
Things are better this season. They are. Ted’s anxiety is under control, the news cycle has moved onto bigger targets, the team’s doing great, Henry’s school play is going to be a hoot and a half. There’s no denying he’s in a better place.
But as the shine and excitement of the new season has started to dim, he knows something’s not quite right.
Training ended a half hour ago and the locker room’s quiet, the only sound coming from the buzz of the lights overhead. Ted checks his watch. There are still three hours until Henry gets home from school and they can Facetime.
He asked Beard if he wanted to grab dinner at the pub, but he begged off after he got a mysterious text–probably a new lady friend now that he and Jane are officially over. The team already showered and left, talks of going out to the club reaching his office as they filtered out. Roy disappeared without saying so much as a goodbye which wasn’t unusual, but felt particularly blunt this evening.
Ted taps on his desk, looking for something to fill his time. Plays have all been set for this weekend’s game and Higgins’ reports have been read and folded into paper airplanes before being recycled. He already rearranged his desk at the same time last night. Ted sighs and sinks into his chair.
Maybe Liam’s still around. He’s got that cute new baby. People with babies love to talk. Unless they’re exhausted and their partner needs them home asap to take over diaper duty. Shoot. That’s probably another dead end.
His phone lights up on the desk and he smiles when he sees it’s a text from Rebecca asking him to come up to her office. He’s a little like a puppy wagging its tail when it sees a friendly face, but it’s better than whatever he was feeling a minute ago. He bounds out of his office and up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
But when he knocks on her door, her office is already full. Keeley, Roy, and Higgins are standing in front of the credenza and Rebecca and Beard are sitting across from them, one on either end of the long gold couch.
“Hey boss, you wanted to see me?” He asks.
“Yes, take a seat Ted.” She pats the open cushion beside her, one elbow propped on the back of the couch, her legs tucked up beneath her. If he didn’t know better, he would think they were settling in for a round of Girl Talk.
He feels the eyes of all five of them as he sinks into the soft cushions. Beard hands him a glass of water, flat, and smiles.
It’s the smile that gets to him.
“Uh oh, am I in trouble?”
“No, quite the opposite,” Rebecca assures him. But that’s equally unhelpful.
“Am I getting promoted . . ?” He ventures. “To be honest I don’t really know where you can go after gaffer. Senior gaffer?”
Beard frowns. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”
“It’s not,” Roy growls.
“Well whatever it is, I don’t think I’m qualified.” Ted tilts his head at Roy and Beard. “Hey, what about you two? Are you also called gaffers? How has this never come up before?”
Roy rolls his eyes and Higgins looks perplexed, but no one seems to have an answer handy.
“Ted.” Rebecca snaps him back to attention. He swivels his head with an expectant smile. “Are you familiar with the show Queer Eye?”
“Of course. Big fan. Henry and I watched all the Kansas City episodes a couple summers ago,” he says. “I’m also a fan of non sequiturs.”
Rebecca rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not a non sequitur. They’re coming here to film an episode.”
“They’re coming to the club? Hot dog, that’s cool,” He says, slapping his knee. “Is a Richmond fan gonna be on the show or something?”
“No, not exactly,” Higgins teases. “It’s someone a little closer to the club.”
“Huh. How close?”
They look at each other, eyes darting. Finally, Beard takes a deep breath.
“Ted. They’re here for you.” Ted’s smile falters, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“I don’t understand. Is this some sort of PR stunt?” He asks, looking at Keeley.
“No! Not at all,” she assures him. “You know how they call the people in each episode heroes? Well they’re all nominated by people who care about them and think they deserve a little extra . . . “ she searches for the right word, fingers tangled together. “Well, a little extra help, I suppose.”
“Is this about the anxiety stuff? Cause I’m working on that, I promise.”
“No!” Keeley shouts, then scrunching her face, “Well, kind of. But not because we think you need fixing or anything, we just thought it would be nice. After everything. You deserve it, yeah?”
Ted’s not totally sure what he did to deserve being on TV, but he’s too shocked to question the logic.
“Yes, like a treat,” Higgins adds. “A very public and invasive treat . . .”
They all nod. Ted suddenly feels like he’s back in the National Bobblehead Hall during a family road trip to Milwaukee. Five sets of eager eyes stare back at him. He can’t say no. Not when they all look so excited. As if having his life cracked open for the entire Netflix audience is an honor and not categorically terrifying.
Only Rebecca seems uncertain, twisting the ring on her right hand.
He looks down at the water glass in his hand as if he might be able to see his reflection looking back at him. But all he sees is water sloshing against the sides as he shifts in his seat. With a deep breath he fixes a smile on his face and looks up at the group with as much eagerness as he can muster.
“Okay. So which one of y’all nominated me?”
Rebecca clears her throat, her brow furrowing further.
“Well, that’s a funny story actually . . .”
MAIN TITLE: "QUEER EYE"
EXT. LONDON - DAY
Aerial footage of London sights: Big Ben, London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Nelson Road football stadium.
INT. SUV - DAY
TAN FRANCE is driving the FAB FIVE through the streets of London. In the passenger seat, KARAMO BROWN reads off an iPad while ANTONI POROWOSKI, JONTHAN VAN NESS, and BOBBY BERK are squashed together in the back seat.
KARAMO: Alright team, welcome to jolly ol’ England!
ALL: (Cheers!)
KARAMO: Our hero this week is Ted Lasso. He’s an American living in London who also happens to be the gaffer for the premier football club, AFC Richmond.
ANTONI: A gaffer? That sounds like a mistake. Like, you made a gaff. A goof. A guff?
TAN: Gaffer just means he’s the manager of the football team.
JONATHAN: Does he manage the players? Like, an agent?
TAN: No, the manager is like the coach.
BOBBY: Then why don’t they just call him a coach?
TAN: Just . . . don’t worry about it. Keep going Karamo.
KARAMO: Okay, get this. He’s a Kansas boy, a father, divorced, and, wildly enough, he left his American football coaching job at Wichita State to coach soccer—sorry Tan—football here in London
ANTONI: What?! That’s like if I left this show and became the head chef at the White House. Like, that’s kind of a big leap.
KARAMO: He’s actually had a surprising amount of success. After a rough first year, the team has been promoted back to the premier league and they’re thriving. They have an enthusiastic fan base and Ted has become known for his folksy press conferences, positive sportsmanship, and truly terrible dad puns. But his friends worry he’s treating his life here like it’s temporary.
BOBBY: I mean. It sounds like they’re right. It says he’s still in corporate housing? It’s been two years. Take care of business or get off the pot am I right?
ANTONI: I think they call it the loo here.
KARAMO: Ted was nominated by his best friend and assistant coach, Beard—
JONATHAN: His name is Beard? I love that!
— his other assistant coach, Roy Kent; his good friend Keeley Jones, the team’s captain Isaac McAdoo, Leslie and Julie Higgins, some guy named Paul, and his boss, AFC Richmond owner, Rebecca Welton.
TAN: Wait, is that Rebecca Welton? Oh my god, she’s like the football Miranda Priestly.
KARAMON: Despite Ted’s positive influence on the club, he’s had a rough year both personally and professionally. He was actually in the news for a very public battle with anxiety.
JONATHAN: Mental health in professional sports is so important. There is so much pressure to succeed and to put that success above anything else and we are not doing that anymore. Simone Biles, Naomi Osaka, and Ted Lasso are breaking taboos left and right.
KARAMO: Exactly. Now last season was a wake up call for Ted’s friends. He’s so positive and optimistic, many of them had no idea he was dealing with this until after the news broke. Now they want to do something special to thank Ted for all he’s done for them and to support him going into this next season of life and football.
What do you say? Can we help this Kansas dad click his ruby sneakers and make Richmond a home?
ALL: Let’s do it!
Exterior shot of SUV driving toward Richmond, London. ALL THING (JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER) by BETTY WHO plays.
DAY 1:
RICHMOND CALLING
To say Ted is overwhelmed is an understatement.
Jonathan is rooting around his bathroom products, Karamo is on the floor sorting through his extensive sneaker collection, and Tan is shouting something about khaki, his voice muffled by the Richmond jumper collection he claims is trying to suffocate him.
It's the most people Ted’s had in his flat at one time and it's a lot. Five people walking from room to room, picking apart his life one item at a time.
Ted wanders into the kitchen where Antoni’s found this week’s batch of biscuits. He’s carrying a stack of pink boxes in his arms, three perfectly cut biscuits nestled inside each one.
“Wait, you’re telling me you make these every week?” He asks, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Uh, yeah?” Ted rubs the back of his neck, suddenly warm around the collar. He’s still in his training tracksuit from when they surprised him at the club and a bead of sweat drips down his back. He’s saved from any more biscuit questions when Bobby taps him on the shoulder.
“So your son. Where does he sleep when he visits?”
“Oh, well, the couch usually or my bed if he’s feeling a little scared out here by himself. To be honest, he’s only been out here the one time—“
Suddenly, Jonathan and Karamo waltz out of the bathroom, holding the Believe sign from Ted’s mirror. They’re belting Cher at the top of their lungs while Bobby drags furniture across the living room.
“Do you believe in life after love? I can feel something inside me say, I really don't think you're strong enough now . . .”
A camera person steps in front of Ted to get the shot and it hits Ted all over again. This is going to be on television for all his friends and detractors to see. The newspaper article was one thing, but this . . . there’s no hiding. No press table or paper between him and the audience, just him and his mustache filing screens big and small around the world. Ted shoves his hands into his pockets, unsure if they’re actually shaking or if he’s just worried they’ll start.
Antoni’s holding his open jar of peanut butter with a mixture of curiosity and disgust when Tan announces it’s time for them to go.
They exit in a flurry of activity and promises of more to come tomorrow, like a tornado passing on through. The door clicks shut and Ted flops onto the couch Bobby just deemed, “Small and uninviting corporate schlock.”
He checks his phone. He has one text from Rebecca.
How’s it going over there?
He thinks about it for a moment before answering. The flat is quiet, eerily so after the mayhem of a few minutes ago. A grey Richmond sweater hangs from the fireplace mantle, like the aftermath of a very strange party.
I think I’m in over my head
His phone is ringing moments after the text goes through.
“Oh god, Ted I’m so sorry. I just thought . . . it doesn’t matter what I thought, you do not need to do this. I promise. We’ll figure something out. Maybe I can volunteer Leslie instead. I’m sure Julie would love the home reno.”
Ted listens to Rebecca brainstorm, her voice shifting into boss mode. There’s something oddly steadying about it and a smile grows slowly across his face. He appreciates how seriously she’s taking this, but it’s not like it was that bad. He’s just a little overwhelmed, being pushed out of his comfort zone a bit. He used to like a challenge. It’s what brought him to Richmond in the first place (well, among other things).
He picks up the Believe sign and wonders if he’s been approaching this whole thing wrong.
“Rebecca,” he interrupts. “I think it’s okay.”
“Really?” She asks, voice disbelieving. “I know this show can dredge up a lot, you know, emotionally. If it ever becomes too much, just say the word. You’re not doing this alone and I have a fantastic lawyer. No contract is truly binding. I don’t care what the people at Netflix say.”
He nods, smiling softly.
“Thanks, Rebecca. I appreciate you. But really, I think it’s going to be fine.”
He ends the call and takes the sign back to the bathroom, taping the paper to the corner of the mirror. When he looks at his reflection, he laughs.
Someone drew a shaving cream mustache across the glass. It’s comically large with curls at the end and it’s already beginning to slide as the cream melts. He crouches down a little so the oversized mustache sits just above his upper lip.
He smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners.
Yeah, it’ll be okay. It might even be fun.