Sports in Romance: More Military Than Hollywood

In a prior post, I reflect on the inherent problem of Hollywood romance. Recently, while reading Eden Finley's Fake Boyfriend M/M sports series, I pondered why sports books, like military books, are so much more successful--generally speaking--than Hollywood romances.

In terms of writing, M/M sports problems versus M/M Hollywood problems come across as far more plausible.

Why?

I think there are two potential explanations:

1. Actors have more options.

Let's be clear: the sheer number of extras in Hollywood means that the chances of getting an Oscar are infinitesimally small. Of course, every kid who plays basketball is not going to be drafted into the NBA. However--

Many college sports players stop playing professionally after college. Check out the "Where are They Now" blurbs at the end of Remember the Titans. Most of those students went on to play in college. After college: nah. They went into real estate or coaching or something else.

Actors who want to continue acting, however, do have multiple options. They can do any of the following (and since they will likely not be getting Oscars, they might as well):

• Continue to be extras and maybe even get lines! Gary Jones did it on Stargate and has a fantastic career!
• Go into live theater, especially community theater.
  
• Do commercials.
• Try out for Sundance films.
• Get connected with directors to perform in other small/independent films.
• Create their own films!

And so on. One doesn't have to be a top-dog Hollywood actor with a mansion and a reality TV show. One can create a life more suited to one's choices and personality.

So it's hard to feel sympathy for the actor who can't "afford" a relationship because that actor just has to make it to the top.

Sports stars, on the other hand, once they reach a certain point on the ladder, must either go on or drop out. There really aren't that many other options. In hockey--which I know about courtesy of Avon Gale--it is the EHL or AHL or NHL. Or retire and become a coach.

Career options at that level are truly that limited. If one wishes to excel at the sport of one's choice, one needs to weigh fan support versus contract renewal versus franchise attitudes versus one's personal life. (It continues to impress me how well M/M romance writers capture the competitive spirit of players plus their desire to excel.)  

2. Sports have measurable skills.

Acting is extremely subjective--and, to a degree, relies on things other than skill. I like plenty of "B" actors simply due to their shows or their hard-work or their characters or their willingness to be "B" actors. Not everybody can be Cary Grant, which is good because few people are.

But in sports, the ability to play well is, to a degree, measurable. Sure, I have students who argue that Tom Brady is better than Joe Montana but both Joe Montana and Tom Brady reside in a completely different category from, say, everybody else who plays football.

At some point, skill in sports becomes really, really noticeable.

Harrison Ford before he was Harrison Ford

Which means that sports characters who make it to a certain point--and can possibly go further--are not going to give that up. Why should they? We wouldn't expect it of great dancers or great opera singers. Or astronauts, for that matter.

Again, it is difficult to feel the same way about actors when there is such a hit or miss quality to being "discovered." Yes, some actors are great--hello, Judi Dench--but despite what the milling extras are hoping (I'll be the one to  stand out!), a measure of luck is part of the equation. DeForest Kelley was perfectly happy being a "B" character actor and would have gone on being one if not for Star Trek: TOS.

In sum...

What these 2 points mean is that sports M/M books, like military M/M books, create somewhat better internal and external conflicts than Hollywood M/M books because the choice between career and love is more grounded, more realistic, more deserving of careful thought. The stakes are simply more believable. 

Not that good Hollywood M/M books don't exist. Check out Selfie by Amy Lane. Amy Lane does an excellent job portraying a top dog actor who realizes that he would like to stretch his abilities by moving back into television. The book works because the top dog actor is willing to break the Academy Awards pattern, despite the potential price to his career. Characterization is part of the equation but so is the degree of available flexibility; he does in fact have more options--whether or not he takes them is up to him.