This A League of Their Own recap contains spoilers. 

It’s not always about winning (though Jess McCready might disagree). It’s about how you end.

How it all will end is a preoccupation for the Peaches, who are playing in the World Series. But exactly how to end also seems to be a preoccupation of show itself. After eight hours with these characters, where do we go from here?

In what might very well be their last game together, it’s the top of the ninth and the Peaches are down by two. Lupe’s arm is shot. The announcer bellows, “if you’re a Peaches fan and you don’t want them to quit, make some noise.” The crowd roars, they haven’t given up yet. Peaches!! Peaches!! Peaches!! And this? This is the dream they didn’t know they were allowed to have. This is what you pretend when it’s a late August afternoon and you’re having a catch — told you it would stick — in your backyard, the fans cheering your name.

Carson stands above her team in the dugout, her voice straining to get on top of the dim of noise, her body vibrating with energy.

Carson: There is nowhere in the world I’d rather be than right here with each and every one of you! We might come back next season, but things will never be the same as they are right now in this moment. All of us, right here, are the original Rockford Pitches. Never again. How do you want this to the end? Show me right now!!!

Joan Jett & the Blackheart’s “Real Wild Child” starts to blare as the Peaches agree together, if they’re going out: They are going to rob the fucking bank. 

“Rob the bank,” of course, is also what Greta and Carson promised each other during their first night in Rockford. Their first night out with colleagues who were going to become friends who will become family. The night of their first kiss. To live in the moment. To steal joy from this often fucked up  life. To. Rob. The. Bank.

And yes, we are talking about baseball seasons here. But are we? There will never be another moment like this, either. If When A League of Their Own comes back for a second season, it will still not be like this. That thrill, that high, of watching something you truly love, for the first time? No matter how much you love it, no matter how many times you will repeat it and love it in new ways (I have already watched this series three times), it doesn’t come back around twice.

I’d love more sports movies if they went like this.

But vrrrrrrrrrm, let’s rewind and take it back for a minute!

Yes, the Peaches have lost the first two games against the Blue Sox, and if they lose one more, then they’re done. They’re out. Real high stakes business and everyone’s understandingly upset about it. Well, everyone except Charlie, who seems perfectly happy to tell Carson it’s A-OK to settle. Hey, she had fun, didn’t she? Won’t this be a great story to tell the kids one day? And isn’t that enough? Seeing a reflection of herself that’s fragmented in Charlie’s eyes, Carson parrots his words to the Peaches, “Well, we sure had a run gals! And maybe that’s enough!” — which as you can imagine, is not the motivational speech they are looking for.

Greta asks Carson, is she going to ever have words of her own again? Or will it just be Charlie words from here on out? Carson scoffs, Greta always knew that she was married. But NO! That’s not the point. This is not about jealousy over Charlie-the-bland-beige-wall. This is about the fact that Greta gave up everything for this, she gave up Jo for this, and Carson is phoning it in! Maybe Carson will return to the safe societal protection of her heterosexual marriage after this, but for the rest of them? This win still matters, and they can’t afford to wash their hands and say “Hey, we tried!”

Carson goes upstairs and tells Charlie that her mean femme girlfriend is right — as mean femmes tend to always be — so he needs to pack his shit and go, my dude. At first Charlie thinks she means to go back to the hotel, but oh no Carson means it’s time for him to leave back to the “not a farm” that they came from. Maybe next week or in two weeks, she’ll return to their miserable life where memories substitute for happiness, but this week she’s still a Peach. She hands him an envelope full of money (the bank wouldn’t let her open up an account, excellent historical detail) and he makes a face as if emasculation was a person. Then he’s gone.

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Meanwhile, Clance has to find a roommate because Max is going on the road with Red Wright’s All-Stars — a montage that includes candidate #1 who loves to clean (Clance: “we’re not just gonna throw a party every time you pick up a broom,  you know?”); candidate #2 who is… young (Clance: “uh-uh, I can’t feel this old everyday!… look at the innocence in her eyes. I would snuff that out in a week!”); candidate #3 is a nameless handsome Black man (Max: “aht! no! I am saving your marriage.”); and lucky candidate #4, Cheryl, who just loves to cook and be quiet and also loves Clance so much that she brought a her some brand new kitchen towels as a present.

The roommate search will have to be on pause though, because — ahem —  MAX IS IN THE CHICAGO DEFENDER!!!!! Which basically means she’s a celebrity now, thank you very much. [Brief Black nerd note: Founded in 1905, the Chicago Defender is a historic Black newspaper that attracted the likes of Langston Hughes and Ida B. Wells, and to this day in many aspects is the paper of record for independent, local Black publications. This has been a recording. BEEP!]

So obviously that means that Max and Clance are goin’ be stunting in sunglasses at the factory!! Max, a star pitcher, and Clance’s Lena Horne fantasies come true. Remember when they were doing the fire in hell “this is fine” meme? Our babies have come so far!

Aunt Gracie joins in on their stroll across the factory floor as hype woman, and yesss we love a supportive gay auntie!! Less exciting is the coach of the factory team who A) has never heard of the Defender 🙄 and B) tells Max that. since she publicly embarrassed the factory team with that arm of hers, now she can pitch for them.. just a few times.. at practice… to see how it works out.

Yeah, that white man can kiss her ass. She’s got a better offer.

Ok y’all can’t tell me that Max isn’t FINE fine. Look at the material.

That night Carson and Max celebrate with a couple of beers on Max’s childhood field. She just can’t believe it, she’s going on the road with her own team and a girl she can’t stop thinking about. In episode three, Max told her mother that she believed God was ordering her steps because what kind of God would give her this talent and not let her use it? Miss Toni didn’t understand, sometimes Max didn’t even understand, but now though the thicket of thorns comes a waterfall of goodness. She is precisely where she is supposed to be. She got there by finding herself, and “I’d rather have five minutes of what this feels right now, than a lifetime of before.”

Carson wonders if they will ever see each other again, and Max isn’t sure, but hey, let’s have one more catch for old times’ sake.

The next day at practice, Carson tries her hand at a different kind of motivational speech. She begins by quoting A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, the same book that Greta gave her in the second episode, “Let me be something every minute, of every hour, of my life. Let me be cold, let me be warm. Let me be hungry or have too much to eat. Let me be honorable or let me sin. Only let me be something, every blessed minute.”

You see there’s this tree, and it grows out of cement even though no one waters or pays attention to it, but somehow it still finds a way to grow. And the Peaches are that tree, no one thought they could do this. They only cared about their skirts or their make up, but somehow still, they grew. Here’s the reality: The Sox are a better team. And now they have Jo, who was once the Peaches best hitter. They are better. But damnit, that doesn’t mean that they get to win.

Dove said exactly one useful thing in his time with the Peaches, that locker rooms are sacred spaces where players write their names into the wood like prayers to the Gods. Carson gets out a pen, this is their moment. And may whoever comes next year or next season, or the one after that, always know that they are playing in THEIR house. May they live in every blessed moment. And if they are going to lose? Let it be FUCKING EPIC.

As the Peaches file out, Carson finds a quick second to let Greta know that Charlie-the-bland-beige-wall is gone, and also to tell Shirley that yes, it’s true, Carson is “one of them” — but also Shirley is a brilliant woman who is right now allowing her fears of what’s to come limit what is possible in the moment. If she allows herself the chance, even if it’s overwhelming and scary, there can be another way.

The Peaches win their next game (Greta gets a bloody bruise on a slide to a base and also a job offer from Madam Vivienne of Charm School fame. She’s always been a fan of girls who are “a bit too much”). That night, Carson comes into her room and finds Shirley eating directly out of dented cans. I forgot to mention that one of Shirley’s greatest fears has been botulism, but look at that! All those dented cans! And No! Absolutely No! Botulism! She was keeping herself boxed in, but now she is so free! So free in fact that…

She kisses Carson smack dab on the mouth (they are gonna talk about consent later) and guess what? She’s not gay!! Not even a little gay. It’s not contagious after all! No homosexual feelings. She likes men. Throw Shirley a Straight Pride parade. Oh and Carson, by the way, we’re gonna beat the Blue Sox!!!

(every time I watch this, I scream, because if Shirley Says We’re Gonna Beat the Blue Sox THEN WATCH OUT BECAUSE WE’RE GONNA BEAT THE BLUE SOX, OKAYYYYYYY!??!)

That same night, Max and Clance go over to Max’s parents house for dinner. Clance, who’s very correct to be terrified of Miss Toni, devises a plan that they should say “Buffalo” in case things go left. It takes all of 30 seconds for her to start chanting it under her breath like one of those wwwhhaaanoo whhhaaanoo alarms. Toni’s thinks that Max’s hair suits her, but is otherwise icy about Max leaving Rockford to play ball. Max’s dad is proud of her, as far he’s concerned, she’s already a star — not that he didn’t believe in her, just that sometimes it can be hard to believe in the world.

“Honesty without empathy is cruelty.” — bell hooks, All About Love

And, to her credit, I think that this is also where Miss Toni is coming from too, though she follows that fear to a hurtful and misguided place, a place that’s caused Max indescribable pain and self-doubt. She asks Max to come with her into the kitchen, she wants her to read letters that were written by her grandmother when she first moved to Chicago from the South. Miss Toni knows her daughter. She’s known since she was a little girl that she was never going to have a husband.

Being a Black woman alone in this world without protection, that’s a long and hard road. She wanted Max to have a piece of the salon because with it comes financial independence, with it comes a little bit of freedom, a little bit power. And I believe Miss Toni. I also believe that in an overbearing push to make Max smaller, so that Max could be safe, she almost snuffed Max’s light out completely. I believe that parents, and maybe even specifically Black parents, who are always having to protect us because the world is not safe for us, if they aren’t careful — they become the thing they were trying to protect us from to begin with. They become our unsafe place.

Max, in that moment, seems to really see Miss Toni. She sees that her mother is too scared, too worried, of the dangers of what could be to see the power of who Max has already become right here, right now. There’s nothing else that can be said to convince her, so instead Max leaves with a simple, “Thank you for everything.”

Later that night, leaving a bar with Bert, Max wonders if maybe her mama is right. Maybe she is making it harder on herself. But Uncle Bertie says following your dreams is supposed to be hard, but it’s so worth it — look at him, he’s living his dream right now.

He created a world for himself out of what once felt like thin air, and now he can sit at a park bench with his niece and tell her about all the good gay bars and exactly who to meet, an entire unseen constellation of Black queer stars, each one pointing to the next. This is how we’ve always been able to protect ourselves. He can warn her that yes, she will need be careful who she trusts her with truths, she will need to always be aware of her surroundings, but also not to close herself off from what makes life magic. She and Esther are going to have a great time. Enjoy every minute of it.

Max smiles, catching her breath. No one had ever said “you and Esther” before… maybe she could used to this. She looks at her Bertie, who a few months ago was a phantom haunting her mother’s house and is now the steady hand that’s allowed her to grow into dreams that felt impossible, “thank you Uncle Bert.”

I love them, I love them, this can’t really be over —

It’s the morning of the Peaches final game, the entire team gathered on the porch. Sarge claps her hands, it’s time to go but first — Esti pleads to Jess, “The song! The song! Can we sing?”

Jess, hat as always perfeclyt tilted to the side, starts off: “Batter up! Here that calllllll….”

Esti joins, so sweetly, “the time has come has come… for one and all..”

Terri makes the harmony, “to plaaayyyy, ball…”

The rest of the Peaches come in on the next line, “We’re members of the All-American League, we come from cities, near and far…” and I can’t prove it of course, but there’s a certain nostalgia tucked into their smiles, a genuine joy, of getting to live out this big and iconic moment. Abbi Jacobinson turns to Kate Berlant (Shirley) and starts to scream-sing directly in her face, and it just makes me so happy to see the actors, not just the characters, live out a childhood dream that so many of us shared. To be in a Peaches uniform, to sing that song, to play ball.

SORRY I KNOW IT’S SAPPY!! We can fast forward to the game.

Yeah yeah, Peaches forever, rah rah rah, but..

.. we need to talk about how good Jo looks in that blue uniform.

Heart’s “Barracuda” is the perfect backdrop for the final game’s main montage, the thud-du-du-du-dunnnns punctuate every crack at bat. Jo DeLuca’s entire energy, her confidence, is so seductive. It’s like she’s sucked up all the air in the room even though they are outside. The Peaches end up down two at the top of the ninth, and Carson tells them to rob the fucking bank.

Shaw makes it home. Lupe hits a single and then, in Spanish, tells Esti “smack the hell out of it!” (she does).

Jess is at bat and turns to army salute the audience to a chorus of cheers. Now Esti and Lupe do a double steal (when a Sox player complains they are speaking in code, Lupe says “it’s Spanish you moron” — which, given all the racism that she and Esti have gone through on that field, was just a perfect moment) and then Lupe blows Jo a kiss as slides into her base.

It’s Shirley’s at bat and the crowd is so loud you can barely hear Joan Jett. Her hit brings Lupe home and ties the game.

It’s the bottom of the ninth and next at bat is Jo DeLuca the Bazooka, who’s had a hot bat all day.

Lupe’s first ball is a foul, but here comes the the second ball and Jo knocks that monster clear out of the park.

💔

The Sox are supposed to win, but as Jo rounds first base, she trips directly onto her bad knee. The crack of the bone is loud enough to echo. It’s the one from the police raid at the bar. The one from when she was brutalized, left limping and bruised, when Sarge had to pay to keep her name out of the paper. That knee. Because of that night, that cruelty, designed to make her feel so small when she’s meant to be be so big, it’s all slipping away in front of her.

Of course Greta’s the first one to her side, calling for help, asking Joey if she is ok. Carson comes next. The umpire says that even though the Sox clearly won, they can’t actually win unless Jo can tap all of the bases without the help of her teammates.Greta looks past Jo, just for a second, to Carson.

Jo has more than one set of teammates on that field.

First Greta and Carson help Jo up, then Jess sees what’s happening and calls everyone else to join. The Peaches walk Jo to second, then to third, then home. When the Sox win the World Series, they put Jo on her shoulders. The Peaches hold each other.

“Hope is a song in a weary throat. / Give me a song of hope / And a world where I can sing it. / Give me a song of faith / And a people to believe in it.” — Pauli Murray, Dark Testament, Verse 8  

During the Peaches game, Bert, perched against a motorcycle (love him) goes to see Miss Toni at her house. At first Miss Toni tries to cox Bert inside (her horror at “what other people might think” if they saw Bertie is unspoken, but palpable) — but he says this won’t take long, he’s fine right where he is.

I didn’t expect Bertie and Miss Toni to meet this season, but in retrospect, I should have. Isn’t that what Max’s father said all the way back in episode four? “It always comes back to Bertie.” Long before we met him, Bertie has been underneath all of Miss Toni’s fears. It’s far away from baseball — but narratively, A League of Their Own needed to come back to this full circle.

Miss Toni says that how Bert dresses and carries himself is his own business, it doesn’t bother her (I don’t buy it), but that she never forgave for Bertie leaving without saying goodbye (that, I do). There were years when she didn’t know if her own sibling was alive or dead. Bertie says that he had to leave, because Toni — Toni knew what he was going through. Toni saw the hell he was living under with their parents, and instead of encouraging Bertie to be who he was always meant to be, Toni told him to hold on a little longer, to make himself just a little smaller (sound familiar?). And for Bertie, that was what was most insidious. Because he knew, he could’ve done it. So he had to leave, to save himself.

But he came back today, and he came back for Max. Max is much more like her mother than she is Bert — and if Miss Toni keeps holding on so tight, she’ll never come home. Miss Toni just wants Max to be safe. Bert leans in to his sister, looks her in her eyes, and sums it so plainly, so eloquently, “for some of us, safe isn’t safe.”

That’s it.

It’s Clance who Max thanks for getting her here. Friendship is the greatest love story.

I thought, after the siblings talked, that Miss Toni would show up at the Red Wright’s All-Stars bus to wish Max goodbye. And I suppose part of me still wishes that she had, that Max knew that her mother was supporting her in whatever came next, because I am such a mama’s girl at heart. But also — I respect the restraint here in storytelling, because if Miss Toni had shown up, it probably would have been too soon, too neat. And Max doesn’t need that drama on her big day. I do think that later in the episode (when we find out Clance is actually pregnant after all!! And that Miss Toni will help take care of her, so that Max doesn’t have to return from the road) we realize that Bertie’s words planted seeds in Miss Toni, now we have to wait and see if they sow.

Instead, at the bus, Max says goodbye to Clance (and hilariously, also Cheryl, who has promised Clance she will be quiet at all costs). Clance pre-made addressed envelopes with stamps and she expects that they will be used!! She expects details!! And she expects, no matter what, no matter where this journey takes Max next, that they will always be best friends. She knows that Max has a new team and all, but —

No, Max interrupts her. Max may have a new way to play baseball, but Clance is her team.

They play a game of “I love you more” and Esther tells Max to dry her tears before she takes her ass on that bus (and again I must say it, soft butch/mean femme is my favorite dynamic, give me more). As soon as they get to Minnesota, Max calls Clance right away. She only has a nickel in her pocket right now so it has to be brief. Plus Esther is waiting.. in the single bed in their motel room… but there will be so many more calls. Clance and Max will be ok.

Where I come from, this is called “game recognize game.”

That night, the Peaches celebrate their moral victory (though Jess would like to remind you that they still, technically, lost). They’re doing shots and Sarge comes in, promptly takes off her chaperone cap because the season is over (!!!) and tells Jess to pour her one (!!!). Then she pulls Jess aside, in what is easily one of my favorite moments of the series:

In the hallway next to the kitchen, Sarge hands Jess an envelope. The rules said that Sarge had to collect fines for Jess wearing pants, but they never said what she had to do with them. Jess opens the envelope to see all the money she’s given Sarge over the season. Jess knocks her head back a bit, touched — a thank you without a thank you, “no one has ever done something like that for me before.”

Sarge, nods, her voice going just this side of soft: “Well.. we have to take care of our own, don’t we?”

They hold eyes together, just for a second longer, Jess absorbing it all in. Because, isn’t that what Sarge has been doing all along, taking care of her Peaches? Did she not look the other way when Lupe snuck out? Postpone the owners on breaking the team up long enough for the Peaches to start a win streak? Did she not pay from her own money to keep Jo’s name out of the papers? There are so many ways we look out for our own. So many people lighting our path when we don’t even see it in front of us.

When everyone’s left the kitchen, Carson and Greta find each other. They’ve made it, their last night.

Carson wonders if they’ll ever see each other again. Greta’s sure of it, in 15 years when Carson is balding with five kids and Gretchen is the mayor of New York City. They’ll do the rom-com “what could’ve been” waive as the wind cascades in their hair and it will be sad, but a sweet sad, you know?

And maybe, in a different multiverse, that could be enough. But also… what if in this version of themselves, Greta’s finally ready to ask for more? What if she asked Carson to come with her? They both look at each other, afraid to breathe. Greta’s train leaves tomorrow and —

Maybelle interrupts them, drunk and giggling. They spring apart, trying to act like what’s happening, isn’t.

We love you, Max Chapman.

The next morning, Max Chapman is suited up in her Red Wright’s All-Stars uniform. She leaves the motel with Esther, running after Red Wright — who will leave her if she don’t get on this bus immediately — and towards her future.

The next morning, Carson runs through the house looking for Greta, who’s already left for the train. The brothers watch from the stairs, telling her to “get a thing” and she’s gonna do just that. She stops Greta from getting into the cab, just in time. Greta looks sensational in a red dress that’s painted on her, her equally red pin curls perfect. Carson grabs her, takes her to the side of the house, and even though it is daylight, she cannot stop. She has to kiss her, one last time. Greta once told her that they get to decide what is real, no one else. She has to know this was real.

She’s not going with Greta to New York. But she’s not going home to Charlie either (who saw them kiss). And whatever comes next, well…

That will be on her terms.

“My love, my love, my, love, my love. She keeps me warm.“

An Epilogue

One of the things that I love most about television is screaming at the TV. I love watching TV from behind my fingers, or flailing against the couch when my emotions get too big. I’ve been known to pace around the floor of my living room just to get the nerves out. But what I love more than any of those things is talking about what I’m watching with other people who are also excited and willing to go long on every detail. Which is to say that the past week living A League of Their Own with you has been absolutely unreal — a dream that I have yet to adequately put into words.

Exactly ten days ago, I started counting down Autostraddle’s A League of Their Own coverage on my Instagram.

(From my instagram, 8/9/22)

We began planning our coverage a few weeks earlier than that, so in some way or form I’ve been living with Max, Clance, Bert, and the Peaches in my brain for a solid chunk of summer — which I guess is a great time to obsessively cover baseball, even though I’ve never played. We’re not done with our coverage forever, because if I’m certain about one thing it’s that if the broader gay community has kept A League of Their Own alive for the last 30 years, a little off-season won’t hurt us. But since this is my last time on this platform for a minute, I hope you’ll let say just this one last thing:

I originally planned on ending this recap with a round-up of all of our A League of Their Own coverage from the last two weeks, but when I went to list them I realized that there were 16 pieces in all, in just the last 11 days alone — interviews, quizzes, deep dives, reviews, jokes recaps, and even a photo gallery of the Autostraddle team playing ball as kids. It is the kind of coverage you expect to see for major tentpoles (TV shows, movies) from large, corporate-backed, magazines. Autostraddle doesn’t often get to swim in those waters, for a few reasons.

We have a small team that works our ass off and we’re funded by readers (we keep the lights on for this website with as little as $4 a month, please come join us!), and not venture capitalists. And because we’re indie, it can be an uphill battle to get the respect that provides press access and advance screeners — the kinds of things that allow for us to plan for special packages like the one I hope you’ve enjoyed these last two weeks. I wish we could do it more often! We want to do it more often! I hope the next major gay show looks at what A League of Their Own’s team got right and says: OK, how do we better reach queer audiences? How can we provide the equitable resources to small queer spaces that we’re already giving out freely to large straight ones? Because directly reaching the people who are pouring their hearts into your story, it matters.

(Also from my instagram, same date, 8/9/22)

But, even if we don’t have access screeners, even when we aren’t in the virtual press rooms to interview talent, we are still here every day covering queer television and film — because we know that queer stories can take the muck of what’s inside of you and hold it to the light. It can help you feel less alone in the world. These last few weeks you have helped me feel less alone in the world.

So more than anything, I want to thank you. The last week of my life has been something like I’ve never felt before. Thank you for letting us have a catch with you. ⚾️❤️

Every episode of A League of Their Own is streaming on Prime Video. If you’ve enjoyed our coverage, please consider joining our A+ membership program because that’s how we can stay here and queer, for the next person who needs us. We’ll see you around the ballpark.

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