My Roman Empire is the fact that I know more about sports from reading romance novels than I do from watching the sports themselves. 

Now, let’s be real, it’s not like I’m watching Sunday Night Football, but I do dabble here and there. I know you can only spend three seconds in the key because I read the novel “The Right Move” by Liz Tomforde, I know that there are three periods in hockey because of my love for Elle Kennedy’s “Off-Campus” series, and I know that Women’s Soccer is the gayest sport in the world because of this novel, “Cleat Cute” by Meryl Wilsner. 

In mid-2023, I was scrolling on social media when I came across a video advertising this book. Unlike the typical romance reel, this video contained no images of half-naked men, but instead focused on reading the blurb of the novel. I hate to say it, but I was disappointed. Not because of the lack of images (get your mind out of the gutter), but rather because this book was advertised as a “miscommunication trope” book.

I’m sure I’m not alone when I say, beg, and plead for authors to STOP! Stop writing miscommunication tropes. Stop! Have your characters pick up a phone, for once. Make them text. As a matter of fact, have them call each other. Maybe FaceTime! Listen to the voicemail, open the letter, send the email! (I’m sure Casti Students can help with the latter.) But STOP! It’s not realistic. It’s not laughable. It’s annoying. Have your characters communicate. 

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to the story itself. 

“Cleat Cute” by Meryl Wilsner is a novel that outlines the ups and downs of professional soccer, focusing on two athletes: Grace, the veteran star of the US Women’s National Team, and Phoebe, a promising young player straight out of college.

The novel begins at a National Team training camp where Grace is the star of the team, and Phoebe is merely a rookie. This is Phoebe’s first time playing professional soccer, her first time playing in any traditional league and her first time meeting all of these players whom Phoebe has idolized for years. Despite being only four years older than Phoebe, Grace is her childhood idol. In fact, Grace was her childhood crush. 

Grace started playing soccer when she was young and joined the National team in her early teen years, so she’s used to the spotlight and the attention. When the two first meet, Grace assumes that Phoebe is simply a giddy young rookie with too much energy. Although that may be true, Phoebe has the skills to back it up, as she begins to out-pace everyone in practice, run the fastest during the run test, and impress with her dribble skills.

By the time training camp is over, Phoebe has left a lasting impression on both the coaching staff and the members of the team. Most importantly, Phoebe has left a lasting impression on Grace Henderson herself, whom Phoebe kissed on a dare on the last night.

Although the National Team won’t hold camp for another three months, the story of Phoebe and Grace has not yet concluded as both players are drafted members of the New Orleans Krewe: their professional club team. Just days after their fateful embrace which ended in rushed goodbyes and awkward conversation, the two meet up once again in New Orleans as Phoebe becomes oriented with the team and the city as a whole, and Grace, the captain of the Krewe, is appointed her unofficial guide.

As the novel progresses, Phoebe and Grace become reluctant friends, then official teammates, then friends-with-benefits, and then finally rivals as they compete for the same spot on the World Cup roster.

Despite Grace’s years of experience as a professional player (compared to Phoebe’s days) Grace is still in jeopardy of losing her spot on the roster to Phoebe, her fellow midfielder, as it is revealed that she has an injury. Grace, who has a minor hip strain, refuses to visit the team trainer as she wants to keep on playing, but I think that’s absurd. 

When I was in middle school, I would have done anything to get out of fitness class, and I mean anything. Every minor paper cut was considered a deadly wound so I could skip basketball drills. Every coconut flake would be purposely misconstrued as a splitter so that I didn’t have to run in field hockey. I was allergic to athletics, and, for the sake of my reputation, let’s just say that’s the sole reason I never left the bench this past volleyball season: the team was just allergy-aware. 

Likewise, Phoebe and Grace are hyper-aware. As their relationship progresses, and passes through these various stages, they get to know each other on a deeper level, which leads to a very satisfactory conclusion. I don’t want to spoil anything, but to quote JoJo Siwa, “Karma’s a B***h”.

Overall, I loved this story, but I have to say that I was constantly surprised, in a bad way. Like the typical reader, I read the blurb on the back cover before partaking in my monthly journey of reading queer romance. After reading the blurb, I had certain expectations for the novel, but let’s prep the lawyer right now because that blurb is hearsay and will not hold up in court. 

The blurb of this book is as accurate as the TV outside of the dining hall. Yeah sure, we may have pasta on Monday, but it’s Friday. What are we having today? The order of events in the book is so mismatched with what was advertised in the blurb, that you might as well call it a millennial outfit: I promise you that your teal skinny jeans do not match your navy blazer. 

If I’m being honest, I appreciate the inaccuracy as I would have done anything to avoid the miscommunication trope. Throughout the novel, I would say there were many “mini-miscommunications” but nothing major, and nothing relationship-threatening. Overall, it was an effective use of the trope. 

Similarly, Wilsner did a solid job of incorporating various aspects of New Orleans culture, various sidekick characters and hilarious moments that truly grounded the story and the characters in their setting—one of the best parts of the novel. 

At the end of the day, the “Cleat Cute” was a pretty enjoyable novel. I only have three complaints, and that’s if I’m being picky. 

My first issue is with the pacing of the novel, specifically with regard to the emotional versus physical relationship between Grace and Phoebe. I’d like to say that senior year has changed me and that I have matured as a person because at some points, while reading, I found myself getting bored and annoyed by the constant explanation of their physical relationship. 

All the emotional scenes in this novel were rushed, in favor of describing the lust of a character. While Grace delivered a heartfelt monologue, the reader was bombarded with Pheobes’s physical desire as she fantasized about kissing while actively ignoring Grace’s speech. Frankly, I was disappointed, as these conversations between characters could’ve complicated the plot and expanded upon their emotional relationship. Instead, the reader is left with an unsatisfactory conversation, an incomplete emotional arch, and gratuitous instances of physicality. 

My second criticism lies in the disconnect between serious cultural significance and inserted political diplomacy. Throughout the novel, with no context, no explanation, and no follow-up, Phoebe casually mentions that at one point she was “standing with her hands behind her back for the anthem since US soccer will punish [players] if they kneel” (212). 

This is obviously a reference to Colin Kaepernick, but I found its usage in this novel to be random and distasteful. With that said, I’m not going to promote the idea that you can’t add political moments to books unless they are completely contextualized, but I am going to point out poor editing in this instance. Despite barely being mentioned throughout the novel, Wilsner proceeds to use “to kneel or not to kneel” as a marker of one’s character. 

If a character kneels or keeps their hands behind their back during the national anthem, then they’re a good, kind and virtuous character. If they don’t, then they’re evil. There’s value in patriotic criticism, but it just seemed like a cheap attempt at being “politically correct”.  

I honestly think that there was a prior version of this novel that had proper context and explanation, but it was edited out in the current version, and no one caught the slip-up. Given my penchant for spelling “the” as “teh,” and the overall fact that I’m a terrible typer, I don’t think I can hate on this novel for incomplete editing, but I can critique it. 

And finally, my third and final complaint is the length of the epilogue. Despite the novel being over three hundred pages in length, the epilogue is less than two. I’m not sure what fake news has spread among the authors of my favorite romance novels convincing them to write short epilogues, but I’m sure of one thing. They could all learn a thing or two from Ms. Bergson-Michelson about fact-checking your sources, as no reader I’ve ever talked to has appreciated a short epilogue. Just add another page, Meryl Wilsner, and we’ll be all right.

All things considered, I rate “Cleat Cute” by Meryl Wilsner three out of five C’s: three Criticisms were subtracted, but a Citation was added when I read the following quote, as I will be referencing it daily.

“I’m loud and obnoxious and gay. It’s like my brand” (134).