𝙒𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚…𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙

Quick heads up before you read this…there are spoilers in here.

Also…I’m putting this here on purpose, because this site can’t only be advice, resources, and “here’s how to survive overseas” bullshit. We’re still doing that, but we’re humans first, and we need normal conversations too. We need the shit you’d talk about on the bus, in the locker room. If we only talk contracts and training and visas, the whole thing turns into a spreadsheet, and nobody wants to live inside a spreadsheet. So here goes:

I grew up in the 80s, which means my childhood had a very specific way to it. The TV had knobs, the phone was attached to a wall and the neighborhood had that slow, golden light at like 6:30 PM where you could hear somebody’s dad grilling, somebody’s mom yelling a first and middle name, and a pack of kids riding bikes with zero fear and absolutely no helmet in sight. We were outside until the streetlights came on, and that was considered normal, even though it was really just our parents wanting us to leave them the fuck alone.

So when Stranger Things came out, it didn’t feel like some random new show I had to learn. It felt familiar in a way that’s hard to explain without sounding corny. The bikes mixed with that little kid courage, where you didn’t feel fear because you didn’t know there was anything to fear. The show’s vibe felt like it had dust from my childhood on it, the same dust we would have to blow out of our old Nintendo cartridges.

My wife, cheldren and I had already watched the whole series before, which is important, because we weren’t trying to catch up for the first time. This was us trying to do the responsible thing and run the whole thing back in the fall so when season five came out, we’d be ready.

That fantasy lasted until real life showed up and cockblocked the whole plan.

Running a business takes more of your brain than people think, and helping chase your daughter’s dreams takes even more. That comes with logistics and energy, plus the pressure of trying to be a role model, because your kids are watching how you handle everything. So you’re trying to stay solid even when you feel fried. Sitting down and ripping through hours of television sounds easy on paper, but in real life it turns into two episodes, my wife falling asleep eight different times, and the realization that binging four seasons on a time limit just isn’t in the cards.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around and season five volume one dropped, we were still making our way through season three in the rewatch. So we did what everybody else did. We pivoted. We binged volume one of season five and, like in previous seasons left me sitting on the edge of the couch like I was watching a Phillies playoff game.

Then we went back to the rewatch and finished season three, which reminded me exactly why I fell in love with this show in the first place. The storytelling had that passion. The suspense felt natural and the pacing had you clicking “Next Episode” and the next thing you know it’s midnight and you’re mad at yourself, but also oddly happy that you are this lucky to find a show that still makes you feel something.

So after season three, we started season four between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I truly believed, for no logical reason whatsoever, that we were going to finish those nine episodes in a month during the middle of basketball season. Not sure what was wrong with me when I thought that, but we started it anyway. We watched when we could, chipping away at it, while telling ourselves we were close even though we weren’t.

Then volume two of season five came, and we were still midway through season four, so we did the same chaotic shit again. We watched volume two of season five before finishing season four, and my reaction changed. The suspense that had been so prevalent suddenly felt less. There were scenes that felt long and drawn out, and I could feel the vibe slipping. And I fucking hated that I could feel it slipping because I wanted to love it sooooo much.

II sat thinking, “Am I tired…am I missing something…am I being unfair,” Then I looked at my wife who was sitting there quiet. If she’s quiet and she’s not leaning forward, I already know she feels the same way.

So we made one last plan. We told ourselves we were going to finish season four before the final episode of season five, because we wanted the frame of mind. We wanted to finish the masterpiece before we judged the finale. We got close, but we didn’t make it, and on New Year’s, I did the most forty five year old dad thing imaginable…I stayed in with my wife, trying to rid the home of bad voodoo, while participating in some bad voodoo of our own, because apparently balance is important.

We watched the season five finale, and when it ended, I didn’t feel that edge of your seat panic. I didn’t feel that “holy shit” moment where you sit there frozen while the credits roll and you can’t even talk yet because your brain is still catching up. I felt unsatisfied…and I need to be clear, because people get weird online, and I’m not interested in that. I didn’t feel unsatisfied because it was a bad story. I felt unsatisfied because the suspense and emotion weren’t there for me in the way I expected them to be, especially after what this show has done for four seasons.

I was left with questions, but not the fun kind of questions where you’re excited to talk theories. I was left with the kind of questions where you feel like something didn’t connect all the way, and that’s a strange feeling when you’re talking about a show that used to move you to your core. I kept thinking about how many hours we’ve spent in this world, how much we’ve cared about these characters, how many times the show has made me feel like a kid again even though I have bills and responsibilities and a calendar full of shit that never ends.

Then the extended break happens, and we finally finish season four, and that’s when my brain fully snapped into place.

Holy shit…season four is one of the best seasons of television I’ve ever watched.

And I don’t say that lightly, because I’ve watched all the good ones. Season four had me on the edge of my seat the entire time. The storylines built and built and built, then hit these intense climaxes that left you breathless. Then the falling action had you frozen because you didn’t even know what emotion you were supposed to feel first. Characters were left in limbo, others were lost. The ending didn’t give you a neat little bow, it gave you stunned silence, where you’re still staring at the screen ten minutes later.

So of course I revisited my reaction to season five, and I felt even more unsatisfied, because now the comparison was unavoidable. I’m left thinking, how do you go from season four to that finale? I’m asking that as someone who genuinely loves the show, because season four proved they can create tension that feels alive, and then season five felt like it drifted away from that at the exact moment it needed it most.

And then I keep coming back to this one thought that I can’t shake…How do you make a scene that feels five minutes long and expect it to carry the weight of forty five hours and eighteen minutes of story? How do you ask the audience to feel the biggest emotions at the end, but give them less of the suspense that made those emotions run wild in the first place?

Maybe part of it is how we watched it. Maybe we accidentally ruined our own pacing by doing a rewatch while also trying to keep up with new episodes. But even if that’s true, season four still had me in awe, and the season five finale didn’t, and that’s what upsets me, because I wanted to walk away satisfied.

Instead I walked away thinking about season four, and that’s a wild place to be when you’re watching a series finale.