I will say right off the bat that if you consider plot events that happen past the beginning of a book to be spoilers, this review will contain spoilers. As a matter of semi-principle, though, I am not going to use a spoiler tag for the big "plot surprise" at the end of this book, in part because most of this review is going to be about how strongly I object to its use as such.
The Long Game is the long-awaited sequel to Heated Rivalry, a book which I personally really enjoyed. A lot of what made Heated Rivalry a successful romance is also present here: polished writing, a great sense of humor, and a couple with chemistry for days, who have very realistically moved from rivals-and-opposites-to-lovers. I was excited for the chance to check back in on them, now with their relationship more established, and on that count this book delivered. What I'm going to talk about in this review is less about the romance itself, and more about a series of narrative and plot choices that made the book land poorly for me, and which I think are worthy of more in-depth discussion.
This is the second in a series of two books about hockey rivals Shane and Ilya. They meet as rookies in book one - as the top two players in their league - and, over the course of a decade or so, fall in love. The primary structuring principle of their relationship is that they do not want to be outed to a fanbase which would be potentially hostile to two rivals dating each other. In the first book, their relationship conflict came from a variety of sources: Shane's hesitancy (and sometimes internalized homophobia) as he discovers his sexuality, dating logistics, Shane and Ilya's mutual disbelief that they might be falling for a rival, their concern over being discovered. In the second book, their relationship conflict focuses constantly, and nearly exclusively, on the fear of forced outing. Other potential sources of relationship conflict are suggested and then discarded in ways that range from garden-variety plot-lazy to actively problematic. This book is all about Shane and Ilya trying to decide - and not always agreeing on- how and when they can come out on their own terms, safely and together.
And then, at the 80% mark, they are forcibly outed.
And that... is a choice. To have two characters fight and strive to avoid a single traumatic thing, and then have that traumatic thing happen to them. I don't want to bury this review under an unreadable pile of disclaimers, But I should say that I am not against books portraying fear of coming out/forced outing. I also understand that plot conflict is created by having things that characters might not like nonetheless happen to them. But to my (very subjective) reading, the way homophobia functioned in the world of this novel felt exclusively designed to punish the main characters. And to present said punishment in the guise of plot.
The Long Game is book 6 in a series, which means that we have already seen other hockey players come out in this fictional constructed universe. And while each book acknowledges that homophobia exists and affects its characters, it also affords every other couple a happy, celebratory, and supportive HEA both inside and outside the sporting world they inhabit. Which feels consistent, to me. Bigotry exists. It does not stop marginalized people from being happy.
However, having 4 successive queer couples met with widespread fan and colleague support means that book 6... kind of needs to start reaching to convince us why Shane and Ilya fear having a different experience. Which, to me, didn't feel that different from searching for ways to punish them in order to manufacture a different experience for the sake of plot conflict. No one else faces widespread hatred for coming out, only... direct rivals? And only if they've been hiding it for a long time? And only if they live in certain cities, or interact with specific evil commissioners? The search for circumstances that would threaten Shane and Ilya specifically started to feel actively punitive to me. As did the ultimate choice to have them forcibly outed, when we'd watched so many other couples come out on their own terms and be celebrated for it.
But what I most fundamentally can't wrap my mind around, was the differing reactions of Ilya and Shane's teams to their eventual outing. Which boils down to: Ilya's team (Ottowa) was 100% understanding, caring, and supportive. And Shane's team (Montreal) was 100% homophobic, aggressive, and accusatory. Which, again, is not totally unrealistic: different organizations have different cultures, and acceptance can be cultivated through good leadership practices. But looking at it narratively, I couldn't figure out at first why Shane would have to suffer SO MUCH when Ilya didn't.
And the unfortunate answer I came to (though this is just one possible interpretation and thus very subjective) is that... Shane's traumatic experience of being outed acted as a kind of "rebalancing" for his relatively less turbulent experience of being closeted throughout the book. A source of minor conflict for Ilya and Shane is that Shane is out to a small number of people in his life (his parents, his best friend, a former partner), he plays for a better team, and is garnering more success, while Ilya is alone, having sacrificed his career to move closer to Shane with nobody he can be out to. And rather than have the two men truly talk through this imbalance, it felt like the book decided that, at the end, it was Shane's turn to suffer. Via forced outing and a truly appalling loss of support from his entire team, the media, and his coach. And I'm deeply uncomfortable with something so traumatic feeling like a kind of... narrative punishment for feeling safer in the closet? (The book also clearly does not explore the ramifications of a gay man of color having a more traumatic outing than his white bisexual partner, because past the 10% mark I swear this book forgot Shane was half Japanese)
Also, and it would take an entire second review for me to unpack this, but the way that Shane's clearly disordered eating is magically cured once he and Ilya are forced to go public is a real problem. Disordered eating is not a metonym for control, nor is forced outing a stand-in for "learning to let go" of control over one's life.
There are... still things to like in this book. Ultimately, Shane gets to move to Ottowa, and his HEA with Ilya feels well-earned. Reid's writing remains eminently readable, and the chemistry between the characters shines. But personally, I simply could not escape the impression that this book felt manipulative, confusing constructing plot with selectively doling out trauma to queer characters. To say I'm disappointed would be... an understatement.