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The Lady Greyhounds play for promotion in the penultimate episode, and it delivers the feels . Cody, a man famously immune to TV feelings, admits he nearly cried, while Dave was ready to rank it near the bottom until the second half flipped him. Cody makes the case that Boots has been self-sabotaging all season, spots a Beyoncé-and-beehive connection that earns a rare co-Beard's Jam of the Week, and calls Shannon the next GOAT based entirely on her headphones. Plus a sneaky burner-phone catch on the jet, two competing theories about where Richmond's shares end up, a confirmation that the twin-talking-in-unison thing is real, and a Live deep cut for all the 90s kids.

Cody has been waiting years for this episode. One of them gave it a 9.5. The other one gave it a 7, which for Dave is basically a love letter. Somewhere in between, we realized Patrick Swayze's motivational speaker is just Mama Boucher with frosted tips, and that it's the rare movie that takes a troubled teenager seriously. 25 years later, and we're still arguing about the ending.

Ted finds Alice crying and doesn't say a word. He just sits down and breathes with her. We gave that one to Cody, and he explains why "I'm sorry" is the first thing out of our mouths when we finally break...and what Ted's actually doing by saying nothing. Also: Cody's theory on who's buying up Richmond shares, and it is not who Rebecca thinks. Dave makes the case for an entire episode of nothing but Higgins doing detective work. And the two of them split hard on whether the Roy and Keeley payoff was earned or whether Roy had to act like a buffoon for twenty minutes to get there.

The song kicks in and the scene becomes permanent. Dave, Cody, & Geek Paul draft the greatest needle drops in movies and TV — with one strict rule: no songs written for the movie. That knocks out more of your favorites than you'd think, and yes, we read the list of casualties on air. Along the way we learn that "needle drop" started life as an accounting term, find out what diegetic means, and debate the song that's been permanently ruined by one scene. Plus: Greta Gerwig casts Meryl Streep as the voice of Aslan, and the internet has feelings. We have a few of our own.

Cody cracks the code on this one. He noticed the entire episode is built on three word phrases, and once you see it, you can't unsee it. Dave floats a theory about Alice's hair that may or may not be a very bad sign. The Diamond Dogs investigate whether Zelda is the scorpion in her own story, and Cody has a guess about what job she's really after. Also: why "Believe" hits different in a locker room full of women who were already running on it, a stat about reading to kids that'll make you feel something, the ongoing mystery of why every Derek in the Ted Lasso universe is terrible, and a finally-delivered theme song that is absolutely not the one Cody wanted.

Dave and Cody agree this one's the funniest episode of the season — and then spend a chunk of it being mad at two scenes. Cody's therapist take on whether anything Roy says on that much pain medication counts as true. A real argument about whether Alice torching her own good night is bad writing or a character doing what she always does. Dave puts Keeley's hospital behavior on the record as a little devious. Plus Cody's practical case against the Beard age-gap romance, why the Roy and Keeley story might be crowding out the players nobody knows yet, and the closing gift that got both of them.

This week the Lobby had a theme: settle it. You sent in the arguments you can't win at home, and we ruled on them — including one where the defendant was sitting at the mic. Cody's own wife turned him in over NSYNC, so we held a trial. He was recused, compelled to testify, cross-examined, and sentenced. He also finally admitted what he actually thought of the new Masters of the Universe, which is not what he said on the review episode, and the words "I was about to get a He-Man tattoo" were spoken out loud. Plus: Dave reveals he was not a Princess Bride household, he was a Legend household, and offers a theory about why your 1980s VHS shelf determined your entire personality. Also, Tom Hanks has beef with the Fonz. Jethro Tull is not a guy. And we owe Celeste an apology. Recorded the night before drop with no real edit, which you will most certainly be able to tell.

Dave and Cody open with the only question that really matters: is a hot dog strictly a social food? (It is not.) From there — Cody's therapist take on whether Ted's rear-view mirror advice is actually good advice or just a great line for a coffee mug, a Zelda Southport conspiracy theory involving a whole lot of unsold seats, and a genuine disagreement about Ted suspending Alice. Dave thinks it's growth. Cody thinks Ted might be making the Nate mistake all over again in a different outfit. Also: a deep-cut reference to a Lawrence, Kansas music venue that made Dave whoop out loud.

A Chaplain, a pastor and a guy who does a legitimately excellent Farmer Fran impression walk into an Adam Sandler movie... This week on Be Kind Rewind, we take on The Waterboy (1998) — and yes, we quote it constantly, and yes, Cody is prepared to argue that this is the best comedy Adam Sandler ever made and that Punch Drunk Love belongs in the Sandlerverse. But we also can't help noticing that Mama Boucher isn't just a punchline. She's a woman who built an entire theology out of fear and used it to keep her son small. We also recast the entire movie with Muppets purely so we can watch Adam Sandler destroy Gonzo at full speed, and hand out a Winner and Loser of the Movie that includes a shot at every bowl game that turned this thing down.

This is vintage Ted Lasso. The big conversation for Dave & Cody this week is Roy's pedestal problem. Cody explains the difference between putting someone on a pedestal and actually loving them, and it's the most useful thing said on this pod in a while. Also up for discussion: what the title of Jane's one-woman show is telling us and what it does to a person when private pain becomes a public event, why Rebecca finally having ground to stand on matters more than it looks, whether Roy is growing without realizing it, and Cody's completely unscripted prediction about a guest star that Dave is putting on the record. Plus Beard's Jam of the Week and Diamond Dogs

It started as a discussion that happened after we stopped recording a previous pod. Which Friend (from the show of the same name) had the best go of it outside of the show? We go through all six...every movie, every show, every swing that missed, and hand out awards nobody asked for. Cody has an answer he's been sitting on all week, and it is not one of the six. Plus: a word about Dolly, who spent eighty years proving that what you're famous for and what you're remembered for don't have to be the same thing.

Dave opens with a story about growing up watching his mom compete, and why a single mom showing up to tryouts with her kid on her hip hit differently than expected. From there, he and Cody get into the barriers to women's sports that never show up in a spreadsheet, whether a report can account for the people it's measuring, and Roy's two very different attempts at being helpful. Also on the table: why Rebecca's boyfriend storyline keeps getting played for laughs when it clearly isn't a joke, what's actually going on between Alice and Gemma, and Cody's theory that this season's real thesis got delivered by a woman who couldn't kick a ball. Plus Beard's Jam of the Week, Diamond Dogs, and Who Grew.

School's back in session, so Dave, Cody, &Jackson are drafting the best fictional teachers in pop culture. One rule — they've got to actually be on the school's payroll. No swamp mentors, no karate handymen. Plus bonus rounds for best fictional school and best non-teaching school employee, real-life favorite teacher shout-outs, and a look at the highest-grossing movies ever set in a classroom. Also: Jerry Bruckheimer says Pirates of the Caribbean 6 is happening, and we have questions.

Dave and Cody are back on the pitch, and this week the conversation gets stuck on one uncomfortable question: what do you do when the person telling you the hard truth about yourself is a jerk about it? Alice Chilton has an attitude and a point, and the guys dig into why it's so much easier to focus on the delivery than the message. Also under discussion — whether Beard's avoidance of Ted is loyalty or self-protection, Cody's pitch for how Rebecca should have handled the hire, what Ted actually understands about people that nobody else at Richmond does, and the ongoing mystery of what's in that gift box. Plus Beard's Jam of the Week, Diamond Dogs, and Who Grew.

This week on Be Kind Rewind, Dave, Cody, & Geek Jackson revisit Real Genius (1985): the smartest teen comedy of the 80's(?) and the movie that proves Val Kilmer was one of the great comedic actors we barely got to see. We dig into what holds up (Kilmer at his most magnetic, a movie where being smart is the whole appeal instead of a handicap to overcome, and an anti-military-industrial-complex streak that hits harder in 2026 than it did in '85), what doesn't (Mitch is fifteen, the Kent pranks get genuinely mean, and somebody destroyed a man's house with a satellite laser and nobody went to jail), and the behind-the-scenes stuff — Val got the part by being rude to the producer, the popcorn house took three months and 190,000 pounds of kernels, and the drawings on the dorm wall were made by Val's late brother Wesley. Plus a Pastor's Corner on Chris Knight telling a crying fifteen-year-old that his brain isn't a machine, a fight about whether Kent or Gabriel Jarret is the real story here, and a game guessing Val's five highest-grossing films. Cody sends us out with a Val Kilmer poem.