It Still Stings: A League of Their Own’s Cancellation and the Queer Home Run We’ll Never See

Editor’s Note: TV moves on, but we haven’t. In our feature series It Still Stings, we relive emotional TV moments that we just can’t get over. You know the ones, where months, years, or even decades later, it still provokes a reaction? We’re here for you. We rant because we love. Or, once loved. And obviously, when discussing finales in particular, there will be spoilers:

Too often, television adaptations of existing intellectual properties strive to recapture the magic of their predecessors, resulting in reboots that feel redundant, lacking the charm of the original, and ultimately unnecessary. In recent history, shows like AMC’s Interview with the Vampire and Peacock’s Saved by the Bell reimagine their source material to explore and amplify marginalized identities often neglected in the television landscape. One adaptation in particular, Prime Video’s A League of Their Own, not only pays homage to the 1992 film of the same name but also expands its narrative scope to explore stories and identities that were overlooked in the original, particularly the lives of Black and Queer people during the era.

The 2022 series follows the lives of the Rockford Peaches, a team in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League in 1943. The story tackles the varied experiences of its team members, exploring the intersectionality of identity—showing how Queer people of different races and identities are treated during the time period. The series follows Carson Shaw (played by co-creator Abbi Jacobsen), a catcher who is married to a military officer and slowly understands her identity throughout the season. Alongside Carson’s story, the series follows the compelling tale of Max Chapman (played confidently by Chanté Adams), a Black pitcher who attempts to try out for the team but is turned away due to the racism within the league. Alongside her comic-loving best friend Clance (played by Gbemisola Ikumelo, who grounds the show’s humor with heartfelt sincerity), Max embarks on a journey to pursue her passion for baseball. After fighting tooth and nail, Max finally gets to play ball, but not without ongoing challenges and a deeper discovery of her identity.

A League of Their Own transforms the Queer subtext of the 1992 film into a vibrant and explicit exploration of LGBTQ+ identities in the 1940s. With the majority of its characters identifying as Queer, the series offers a rich narrative that highlights the uniqueness of various identities and experiences. The show balances humor and emotional depth, often showcasing impressive technical achievements with sweeping visuals that beautifully capture the essence of 1940s culture. Its direction exhibits a stylistic flair reminiscent of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s take on the ‘50s, while also providing a distinct perspective that blends dry, awkward humor with the emotional highs and lows of both baseball and romantic relationships.

Too often, when Black characters exist in period pieces led by white characters, they become secondary narratives or serve as character development for their white counterparts. Recent examples include the poorly developed and stereotypical Jolene in The Queen’s Gambit, and Harriet Sloane in Lessons in Chemistry, who lacks screen time. Black characters are frequently relegated to the sidelines in period pieces, with their stories often limited to brief arcs about historical racial violence, which inevitably enables a white savior narrative for the white lead whose journey is considered more significant or compelling.

However, in A League of Their Own, Max’s narrative unfolds independently from the team, offering a refreshing focus on her experiences. The series avoids equating her storyline with those of the other players, recognizing her unique challenges as a Black Queer woman in the 1940s. Though Max deserves more screen time—I would love to see this show center her as the sole lead—her arc is intricately crafted, exploring her relationships with family and community, and establishing her as one of the show’s most layered and compelling characters.

Later in the series, we meet Bert, Max’s trans uncle, who is crucial in mentoring and supporting her as she navigates her identity. As their relationship deepens, Max begins to feel overwhelmed and withdraws from Bert, reflecting her struggle to conform to the respectability politics of the era. This dynamic highlights where A League of Their Own truly shines, skillfully illustrating the complex layers of discrimination that affect various identities. The show underscores that homophobia manifests differently for Black individuals compared to their white counterparts, and it explores how transphobia can surface within the LGBTQ+ community. By addressing these nuanced experiences—still profoundly relevant to the Queer community today—the series presents a rich tapestry of challenges and joys, illuminating the intersections of race, gender, and sexuality in both historical and contemporary contexts.

In the sixth and most impactful episode of the show, “Stealing Home,” the series explores the Queer nightlife of Rockford in the 1940s, showcasing a secret gay bar called The Office, which is based on a real establishment in the city. The episode starts to excel here, with Carson unraveling the tension and secrets from the previous episodes and allowing other Queer team members to discover each other’s identities, finding and building community. This realization extends to the audience as well, as we gradually learn about the players’ identities, connecting the dots in real-time alongside Carson.

Despite garnering critical praise, the series faced online backlash, particularly from racist and homophobic trolls angered by the inclusion of Queer themes and characters of color. However, first-hand accounts have continued to highlight the Queer history of the players in the League. Notably, Maybelle Blair, a former player in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League and a consultant on A League of Their Own, publicly came out as gay at the age of 95 during the 2022 Tribeca premiere of the series.

For a TV show to illuminate these experiences feels special and rare. A League of Their Own challenges the belief that such representation is unrealistic for a period setting, reminding us that diverse stories have always been integral to history—and that Queer people have always been a part of it.

In March 2023, the series was renewed for a second and final season, consisting of just four episodes. However, a few months later, Prime Video reversed its decision and canceled the show, citing the WGA Writers’ Strike as a reason. This cancellation reflects a troubling trend in the industry, particularly regarding shows centered on lesbian or sapphic characters. According to Autostraddle, at least 65 shows featuring Queer women have been canceled after only one season. While audiences increasingly support shows led by Queer (white) men (such as Heartstopper, Young Royals, and Fellow Travelers), there remains a significant lack of institutional backing for series about Queer women, even though many of these shows, including A League of Their Own, have garnered passionate fan bases and critical acclaim.

Thus, the reversal of A League of Their Own’s renewal is especially disheartening. In an era of scarce representation, losing this series feels like a significant strikeout. The show not only broke new ground in its nuanced portrayal of Queer relationships but also provided a crucial exploration of Queer identities in American history, leaving viewers eager for more of its beloved characters in potential future seasons.

Joshua Harris (he/him) is a lover of television, independent film, and his two dogs. His work has appeared in Awards Radar, mxdwnTELEVISION, and more. He is an African-American Film Critics Association (AAFCA) member.

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