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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
