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Rebuild Anyway

  • Writer: Tate Linden
    Tate Linden
  • 11 minutes ago
  • 5 min read

What happens to an organization the moment its strongest personality walks out the door? This series, Lessons From a Fictional Football Club, turns to Ted Lasso as an unlikely case study, treating it as a structural experiment in what actually holds an organization together under pressure, versus what was just one person's charisma wearing a disguise. Across this series, I will pull leadership lessons from specific scenes, ground them in research where it exists, and close with structural reads through the Loadmap framework, all in service of one question worth asking about your own team: when you leave the room, what keeps running?


Lasso Spoilers here again.


There's glass all over the floor of a restaurant that opened three weeks ago. Sam, the player who owns it, stands in the middle of the wreckage, phone to his ear. On the other end is his dad, a world away, telling him the only thing that matters... that how you answer this is who you are.


Rewind to how the glass got there. Earlier in the story, Sam learned that the team's shirt sponsor was working with the corrupt government destroying his country. He taped over the sponsor's logo on his shirt before a match. His teammates saw it and - to their credit - taped over theirs, too. Even Jamie. It cost the club serious money. It cost him a shot at his national team, since his act embarrassed those in charge. And it cost him his restaurant's windows and glass... because making a meaningful stand attracts folks who feel equally passionate about the thing you reject. And those folks can have bricks. 


To be clear, I'm describing episode events, not scoring politics. The stuff I care about doesn’t depend on which side you think is right. I could write the same post about an episode that had a protest I disagreed with. 


When it comes to taking a stand, the stuff I care about is mostly the cost. Every organization and every leader has a list of values, and making the list only costs you the time it takes to write it. Printing it costs almost nothing. Even believing it to your core takes no meaningful investment. Which means the list tells you... almost nothing.


A value can only become real at the precise moment when supporting it comes at great cost. And that’s the same moment most values prove themselves to be more like preferences or aspirations. 

The episode does a damn good job tallying up Sam’s bill - and the team’s as well. The protest...

  • Misaligned him with the club's financial needs. 

  • Lost him a spot on the his current national team’s roster - a life-long dream for him. 

  • His restaurant’s critical opening month.


Every choice he made had an alternative that was both easier and cheaper. Keep his head down and just wear the logo. Reverse his decision when pressed by ownership. Hide from the controversy and apologize, hoping to earn a spot on his national team. Shutter the restaurant for good.


Every time there was a choice between easy or hard, where the hard choice was standing for his beliefs, he followed his heart.


But this wouldn’t be a post from me if it didn’t have something about structure, so... here you go...


It would’ve been easy to respond to the bricks by lashing out. He didn’t. But he didn’t pick up a broom, either. Instead, he called his dad. The rebuilding that comes afterwards happens because of the structure he had in place to support him... a family that helped shape his values and encouraged him to stand up for them. And behind that, a team and community that want to see him succeed. 


One soul holding a value in a world that doesn’t believe in it is a recipe for failure. Check the history books. Lone wolves can’t achieve much without support. But when there’s structure? Institutional memory? Those things not only survive a brick through the window, but they have the capacity and drive to build back stronger. And I think that’s a point the series makes in just about every episode. When one person carries the load by themselves, the problems snap back into existence when they take a breather. 


Structure doesn’t tire. 


If you want to feel this in action, and are willing to risk the consequence, find the ‘right thing’ you've been avoiding because of what it costs. You might not know what it is yet, but you’ll recognize it by the cold sweat that breaks out when it comes to mind. Instead of tackling it head on, try doing the smallest step towards ‘right’ that’s possible, using the following rules.

  1. It must be something that someone can notice

  2. It must ‘cost’ you something, or put you at risk, even if only a little bit.


That’s the list. Following it converts a stated value (AKA preference) into a validated belief at the lowest possible price. If that still feels like too much, then write down what it would cost. Talk about it with people you trust. I’ve found that seeing it on the page, and discussing it with voices other than the self-doubt in my head, can open me up to viable paths forward that I hadn’t seen myself. Sometimes just naming the thing out loud can make dealing with it feel more manageable. 


Many organizations (and quite a few people) put effort into figuring out what values they should proclaim. Less effort is given to doing right by those values when the doing gets costly. Getting through hard times by side-stepping your values? You live to fight another day. But the team that watched you do it is a lot less likely to stand by your side the next time there’s a crisis. 


A genuine belief... a meaningful value... it costs you something. If you’re not intentionally paying that price every time that belief is relevant, then you believe in other things more than you believe in that one. 


It’s not a task for today, and might not be a task for your lifetime, but it’s worth pondering. Religion aside, what’s your one belief for which no cost is too high? In the meantime, if you’ve watched the show, consider Sam’s beliefs. What’s his ‘one thing’ he’ll go to the ends of the earth to defend?


Lessons from a Fictional Football Club is a series of unofficial analysis and commentary. It is not affiliated with, sponsored by, or endorsed by Apple, Warner Bros., or anyone connected with the television series Ted Lasso. Loadmap is the framework I think with in these posts. Loadmap, by Tate Linden, is offered exclusively by Stokefire. 



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