Hiding in plain sight

Heated Rivalry fans, meet the real-life version

I assume you’ve by now heard of Heated Rivalry, the Canadian TV adaptation of gay hockey romance novels.¹ If you haven’t, congrats; also, please tell me about your trans-Pacific sail or months long meditation retreat. To be that removed from dominant culture sounds great.

Overall, I enjoyed it. In terms of impact, the show lands somewhere in the middle of my queer media canon. I loved the portrayals of tender masculinity and seemingly realistic sex. I loved that nothing really bad happens despite occasional high stakes. But would I watch it again or read the books? As of now, no.

What I don’t get is how the show is being lauded as a revolution. A game-changer, so to speak (yes, that is a pun using one of the book titles), not only for existing hockey romance fans but among straight women, a few straight men, and many, many lesbians. In short, people within my queer community are very into Heated Rivalry in a way I don’t understand.

The closest I came to seeing the show’s importance was thanks to Alexander Chee. His essay “In Your Arms I Would Start a War” highlights the importance of Shane Hollander’s character, a Korean-Canadian enthusiastic submissive who is very easy on the eyes. The show brings Chee and his husband joy, and perhaps hope, amidst the rise of fascist and socially conservative agendas. To see a gay hockey romance emerge as the season’s runaway breakout, for Chee, demonstrates a cultural shift that has world-changing potential.

I am starting to appreciate that perspective. For one, the show seems to lack the stigma that often attaches to straight people who become overly interested in queer stories. Because the men are so hot, and the story is ostensibly about hockey,² it reaches audiences that other shows might not. On a sweeter side, it certainly feeds the desperation, across genders and sexualities, for depictions of sexy, ethical, and emotionally attuned men. Finally, it’s fun; a factor that may prove especially crucial in this time of general despair. Unlike gay classics such as Brokeback Mountain, no queers were harmed in the making of this film.

And yet, I struggle with just how popular it’s become. I wonder if one reason is its reminder that queer people continue to hide in plain sight. Hockey is a notoriously straight sport; prior to Heated Rivalry, it had no out (male) athletes. Yet here we see two masculine-presenting hotshots jerk off to each other in the communal showers.

I imagine many of us can recall early exposure to homoeroticism in similarly straight-cultured places. Sleepovers with excessive cuddles and “practice” kissing sessions; hand jobs on bus rides to and from high school baseball games. Anecdotally at least, it seems common for early experiences of queerness to take place within hetero-coded spaces.

Often, those encounters ceased without discussion. You’d look the person up on Facebook years later and find they are in a traditional marriage with several kids. You’d wonder what those earlier moments meant to them, if anything. Here, in this hockey romance alternate universe, we get to imagine a different outcome. One in which the high school experimenters fall in love and choose to be together.

Whenever someone, particularly a queer woman, brings up the show, I ask if they remember #Preath. Their blank stares tell me everything, and I get sad about how few people know the histories of real-life gay sports stars.

My “heated rivalry” is and remains the story of Christen Press and Tobin Heath, two forwards for the U.S. women’s national soccer team. Rival athletes and both formerly presumed to be straight, they have been dating since at least 2015 and came out as a married couple only recently. The internet, or at least a fanatical subset of it, long suspected their romance. We combed their public posts for clues that they were in the same place at the same time despite conflicting game schedules. We fixated on their poses and body language in group pictures.

Even with its growing number of out athletes, women’s soccer remains a largely straight environment. Think Alex Morgan, America’s sweetheart, or the current trio of star forwards in Trinity Rodman, Sophia Wilson (nee Smith), and Mallory Swanson (nee Pugh). Sure, there is Megan Rapinoe, who has been out for her whole career, and Abby Wambach, who came out comparatively late.³ But when you consider how much of Rapinoe’s public identity was about her queerness and politics instead of her soccer game, you can see a potential chilling effect.

That’s one theory, at least, about why Press and Heath didn’t come out sooner. Both will be remembered as among the best soccer players of their generation; what a distraction, it could be said, to have the media focus on your sexual orientation instead of the magic you make with your feet. The lore is that one of them didn’t want to be defined by her personal life. There may have been some religious influence, too, as well as cultural repression. See what I mean about similarities to the gay hockey show? This stuff already happened in real life.

For longtime fans of Press and Heath, aka #Preath, Heated Rivalry feels just a little less satisfying. We’ve seen this already, I thought, as I watched one of the fictional hockey players’ dramatic post-game scene. That literally happened at the 2019 World Cup!!! I yelled at my television, and at my partner, as Wolf Parade accompanied the on-screen euphoria. Did no one else remember Kelly O’Hara’s stadium-side kiss? Did no one else get deja vu?

I’ve been told I sound elitist when I make such comments to Heated Rivalry-obsessed friends. Above all, when it comes to positive queer representations, the more the merrier. But yet— it hurts a little to see fictional gay men receive so much more attention and devotion than real-life gay women, or even fictional gay women such as, for example, those in Portrait of a Lady on Fire. (2019 was a phenomenal year for lesbians.)

It’s not about elitism; instead, I just want to understand. Why these hockey boys? Why now? And why are there not more links being made to the many stories, real and fictional, that led us to this collective cultural height?

My suggestion for those who love Heated Rivalry is to let it be a gateway to other gay stories and art. For real life inspiration, dive into the cast of the 2019 U.S. Women’s National Team and particularly Tobin Heath, Christen Press, and Kelly O’Hara. (I’m sure you already know Rapinoe but if not, read about her too.) Search on Archive of Our Own for #Preath fanfics (heck, you may even find one that I penned). From there, read Dryland, watch the aforementioned Portrait of a Lady, and check out Sex Education and The Sex Lives of College Girls too. Honestly, there is so much incredible queer media, including more stories about closeted athletes! For all I have read and watched, I’ve barely scratched the surface. Please consume these so that after, we can discuss. And maybe, as happy as I am for the HR crew, we can spread the love to longstanding and comparatively under-sung heroes too.

1. As a shameless aside, I know the journalist who helped popularize the books enough so that they got adapted to television. She is a freelancer now; consider commissioning her.

2. Reader, the story is not about hockey.

3. There is also the… disaster…? of Ashlyn Harris and Ali Krieger, a discussion of which would derail this piece. Sigh.