Men's Lifestyle September 9, 2026 0 Comments

Ted Lasso’s Shocking Move: How He Took Down Jamie Tartt and What It Means for the Game!

Was anyone else just a little stunned to see Jamie Tartt strut back onto the Ted Lasso pitch looking less like the evolving, scrappy underdog we rooted for — and more like a boutique cologne ad gone wrong? When this show kicked off, Jamie was the textbook spoiled brat with a mouth sharper than his wit. But by season three, he’d morphed into a surprisingly layered guy, proving even the most insufferable stars can grow up and join the team — literally and figuratively. So, what happened? Did our favorite cocky striker take a wrong turn somewhere between New Year’s parties and vodka branding sessions? As someone who’s watched characters evolve like a well-trained athlete hitting their stride, Jamie’s latest cameo felt like more of a stumble… a big one. But hey, maybe it’s not all doom and gloom — after all, every season’s got its weird plays and curveballs. Ready to dive into the rise, fall, and potential redemption of one of Ted Lasso’s most polarizing stars? Buckle up. LEARN MORE

4 min read

When Ted Lasso began, it was so easy to hate Jamie Tartt, who is played by Phil Dunster. By the end of season 3, it was difficult not to love him. He was proof of our seemingly naive dreams that even the worst people, like overpaid and pampered blowhards, could have the capacity to grow, to love, to be part of something instead of the center of it. Remember Total Football? It was Jamie who said to his teammates to play through him, not to him. That was just one instance of his evolution since we saw him gyrate to his grating “Baby Shark” chant in the locker room.

So it was a pleasant surprise to see Phil Dunster show up as Jamie Tartt in the latest episode of Ted Lasso. Unfortunately, any good feelings I had seeing a familiar face vanished when I saw that he’s regressed into an unrecognizable slab of cologne and silk shirts. In “Don’t Jump Around Much Anymore”—which is a rather good episode otherwise—Jamie briefly returns to Richmond to promote his vodka at a sponsored New Year’s party. But brushing aside his bro-down with Roy (set to “Jump Around,” which is pandering to me personally), this is hardly the same Jamie we came to know and love. In fact, I’d go as far as to say this “new” Jamie Tartt’s a knob.

To recap: “Don’t Jump Around Much Anymore” takes place on New Year’s Eve. That’s prime time for the show’s characters to consider what a fresh start might look like for themselves. Ted gets reassurance to start dating again, Beard sees an opportunity after enduring Jane’s play, and most of all, Alice spends the end of her suspension wondering where her standing is amongst the Lady Greyhounds. Meanwhile, Keeley struggles to reconcile her feelings for Roy. Which leads us back to Jamie, somehow, with his club party the perfect excuse for a mini-reunion of the original AFC Richmond.

Two male soccer players stand side by side in a locker room, one wearing a black shirt and the other in a colorful jersey.

Colin Hutton

Remember Jamie Tartt? Well, he’s back, at least for one more episode of season 4.

Now, Jamie has no impact on any of the episode’s biggest stakes. He’s not a foil standing between Keeley and Roy—that whole thing was put to bed three years ago. Nor does Jamie go near the Lady Greyhounds. (Not that I think he’d be a menace, but it would be pointless to stage that sort of crossover.) His most pressing concern? How his vodka’s graphic designers made him look like a Picasso painting. The most “action” Jamie gets is almost convincing Rebecca to kiss him at midnight, just for fun, until Rebecca gets the one text she’s been waiting for all night.

For most of the episode, Jamie is a buffoon, which just hasn’t been his vibe since the earliest Lasso episodes. In season 1, Tartt was your standard-issue celebrity athlete, decked out in overpriced joggers, trendy sneakers, and bedazzled shoulder packs. He was a jerk, and definitely dense, but not really an idiot. After a spell with Man City, Jamie started blossoming in season 2. Having lost Keeley to Roy, Jamie was left to grow as a professional player and a teammate. While I think season 2 is where Ted Lasso really started showing its cracks, I still get choked up when Jamie’s the first player outside Obisanya’s circle to stand with him in his protest. “Gotta wear the same kit,” he says. That still gets to me. And don’t get me started on his dad.

Season 3 was a strange time for Jamie. Though he reverted to dressing like his old self from season 1, he possessed authentic interest in the well-being of his team. What other MVP would stock up his own locker with communal deodorant? Or advocate deleting sexts from former lovers? Later in the season, he suffered a bout of depression and a crisis of confidence, all rooted in his lingering resentment at his father and how much he legitimately cared about Richmond as a collective. When we originally parted ways with Jamie, he enjoyed the respect of his peers as a locker room leader, and more importantly, was on the path to repairing things with his father. It was a most grown-up ending for a once-immature footballer.

Which is why I’m honestly livid the Jamie we “reunite” with in season 4 is practically a stranger. He has no character. No weight or history behind his eyes. He’s a Ken doll: smooth and hollow. (Maybe that hot blonde dye is intentional, now that I think about it.) It’s upsetting that a show that’s done so much to say that people can change—and, we hope, for the better—trots out one of its fan favorites and distorts him into something we thought he was far from ever being again.

To be clear, this has little to do with Phil Dunster, who does what he’s supposed to as an actor. (And after Rooster, it’s fun watching him oscillate between superstar footballer and a philandering Russian lit professor.) Everything I’m roasting here is pinned on Lasso’s writers, who’ve flattened Jamie’s specific voice and smushed it into a boilerplate archetype with “Arrogant Athlete,” written in Sharpie ink. (But he can’t be too mean either, because he’s around the series regulars.) Between his diluted voice, Cody Rhodes-style hair dye, and his ghastly move on Rebecca for a midnight New Year’s kiss, I simply don’t recognize Jamie Tartt anymore.

I admit, I can’t be too worked up over The Death of Jamie Tartt. It’s a one-off guest spot with literally zero significance for the women’s team, who remain the real story of season 4. Jamie’s just comic relief in an episode packed with weirdos and clowns. (See: All the guests on Zelda’s boat.) And I do hope we can see Jamie one more time. I just hope it’s the real one this time.