The honest truth of all of this – this crazy little journey – is that we’re not really here for a giant, shocking moment. We’re here for a moment of confirmation; of affirmation.
For ten episodes we’ve been building towards a moment that only cements something we learned from the very beginning.
That Sasha and Sam have always had that indefinable something that demands exploring – far beyond the gazes and wants of the other bachelors.
It was there from the moment they met each other – and it’s something we’ve all felt. We can’t explain it. We don’t know what it is. But occasionally there’s that magnificent fleeting moment where you lock eyes on someone and it truly takes your breath away in an instant.
It sounds corny and movie-esque. But it’s damned true. That’s chemistry. That’s simply how it works. It needs no explanation. It just exists, and is. You can try to ignore it as much as you want, but it will always be there until you give it your full attention.
And, sure… We could spend a bunch of time talking about the little inconsequential things that happened during tonight’s long-winded, nothing-really-happened-in-it finale of The Bachelorette.
Like Sam’s incredible Karate Kid pose…
“Wax on, wax off.“
…or Sam digging into the NBA Jam reference pile to pull out this little you beauty…
…or the beyond-hilarious fact that the two chief sponsors of the show just so happen to be the nation’s primary suppliers of mouthwash and dingers.
We could even talk about me getting my final chance to correct an on-screen graphic error that’s been bugging me all damned season long…
…or take an honest look at Sam’s retrospective gaze at her class of fallen suitors.
We could do all of that, for sure.
But what we really need to look at, are the differences between Sasha and Michael; the ones that ultimately cost Michael his shot, and won Sasha the hand of his new beau.
FIRST THING: The Business Class Conundrum.
Michael and Sasha could not be more different. And that is readily apparent right from the moment they board their planes to New Zealand.
Michael steps into his Business Class seat like a seasoned premium traveller.
Calm, collected, almost expectant. He’s been here before. He knows how Business Class works. He’s just gonna kick back, order a sparkling wine, and recline to the full supine position his expensive plane seat allows.
But Sasha? Sasha treats that shit differently.
There’s giddy, child-like enthusiasm being restrained there. The goddamned plane hasn’t even left the gate and he’s already into the personal screen.
He’s sitting forward. He’s uncomfortable, yet ecstatic. Sasha ain’t never seen airborne luxury like this before.
He’s the kind of Business Class passenger the flight attendants pick out and make a note to limit them to only a handful of free champagnes, lest they end up with a case of this on their hands…
Sam was always after a down-to-earth bloke. And if you judge them on their approaches to expensive upper class air travel, it’s Sasha 1, Michael 0.
SECOND THING: How They Handle The Family Grilling.
Sam’s sister Christine is a bloody force to be reckoned with.
She’s been through this before, and she’s not about to cop any crap.
So when she straight-up grills Sasha, it pleasantly surprises Sam’s whole family when his reaction is as calm as a Hindu cow.
“Everybody chill. It’s cool now.“
Meanwhile, whilst taking Michael to task, the usually lippy-yet-erudite “Socceroo” absolutely goes to water.
Seriously. It’s fucking astonishing.
All Christine does is throw him an entry-level bean grinding…
…and he folds like a fucking house of cards.
Christine reacts much like Shania Twain – it don’t impress-a her much.
Sasha 2. Michael 0.
THIRD THING: Dropping the L-Bomb.
The third, last, and most telling of the factors contributing to Sam’s decision of the heart is how she reacts when the boiz bring out the big guns.
Michael doesn’t bother easing up to the mark, and tries to mack on with Sam whenever he catches clean air between his and her faces.
Honestly, who tries to make out in a goddamned helicopter?
Meanwhile, Sasha remains steadfast and true to himself – as just a bloke’s bloke with a lot of love in his heart.
LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL STAUNCH MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE, WOULD YOU.
It’s precisely this that explains the difference between Michael telling Sam he maybe in love with her, and her responding with “Aww, thank you…”
…and Sasha telling Sam that he genuinely loves her, and is in love with her…
…and Sam reacting thusly.
LOOK AT HER GODDAMNED EYES. SHE IS STRAIGHT-UP BEAMING THROUGH THEM.
That’s love, friends. That’s pure, unadulterated love.
And it’s for that reason and that reason alone that when Michael arrives to the final spot, Sam gives him the ole’ heave-ho…
…and makes him trudge back up that grassy hill wearing those stiff dress shoes, like it’s some sort of Rat Pack Biggest Loser.
And it’s why the final moment of the series is this perfect bookend to something that began in the very first moments of episode one.
That’s love, friends. No matter how long it lasts. In that moment, it will always be love.
Raw, stupid, unashamed, unabashed, totally irrational, completely inexplicable love.
We should all be so lucky.
