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.
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
