And the Crowd Went Wild by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Much thanks to Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Avon, and NetGalley for allowing me to read a free ARC in exchange for an honest review. Also thanks to Jen McGuire at William Morrow for emailing the widget.

I really liked this book. Absolutely devoured it. I was leery at first—another Stars book? Another MC involved in Hollywood? Blech. I don’t care about football or Hollywood. I’m gonna hate it. But I didn’t, and my admiration doesn’t waver despite the flaws.

In a lot of ways, it’s classic SEP: the humor and witty banter, taking in strays, a unique and quirky setting, pregnancy and motherhood, glamour and celebrity. So many times I’d be reading and just nod, thinking, yep, SEP wrote this.

In my opinion, the book’s greatest strength is also its greatest weakness: the character work. SEP is masterful at characterization, giving her characters quirks and flaws and charm while keeping them likeable and endearing. Humanizing them with details like Clint crumbling tortilla chips on his chili. I loved both Clint and Dancy. But I wish they received equal attention.

Dancy’s arc is visceral and brilliant. We see her lowest point, we watch her crawl her way out of The Pit of Despair and learn to see value in herself. We beg her not to buy the vodka, our hearts wrench when she cuddles the ugly babydoll, we cheer when she stands up to her antagonists, when she succeeds. We see every step of her struggle.

Clint, however, is very secondary. His conflict is some vague depression and burnout. We mostly see him work out, because athlete. What we don’t see is his struggle. When we’re in his POV, it’s mostly him lamenting his lack of libido and falling in love with Dancy. Does he struggle to get out of bed? To finish his workouts? To enjoy his hobbies? To interact with his colleagues? Vomit from anxiety before games? We don’t know. He says he’s tired, but he appeared to have as much vigor and drive as ever. He says he wants to be alone, but he keeps letting people come to his house. (His complete lack of security shocked and baffled me.)

The bias is obvious, to the point that Dancy comes off as self-centered. At 81% we actually see the point where she pulls her head out of her ass and realizes something’s bothering Clint. Before that, she writes him off as the golden boy. And then Clint’s just told to find a shrink. Dancy never once considers doing that herself, which seemed like a strange and glaring omission to me. She wallowed in grief for months and flirted with alcoholism, yet she’s quick to flippantly tell Clint to “fix his game.” Just go figure it out, Clint. What’s she supposed to do about it? Then later she has the gall to say other people should have shown him more compassion.

The resolution to Clint’s conflict was almost nonexistent. We don’t see him talk to Brett. We don’t see him open up beyond his clumsy admission to Dancy. We don’t see him connect with other quarterbacks who went through a similar struggle. We don’t see his game get better. We don’t see him begin to heal, unless you count falling in love with Darcy, which can’t be healthy. We’re just told he finds a shrink and lives happily every after.

I don’t mean to sound anti-feminist or lack sympathy for Dancy. I just wish there had been more of a narrative balance and less of a double standard.

Otherwise I greatly enjoyed this book. It was humorous and well-paced with plenty of twists. Their romance was a slow, steamy burn, and I respected that they became friends before they became lovers. Readers looking for football to actually be played will be disappointed, but I didn’t care about that.

My absolute favorite part was the gown’s comeback. Symbolism at its best. *chef’s kiss*

I look forward to SEP’s next book, though I hope it’s a standalone, I tend to enjoy those more.

Other notes in no particular order:

I like the name Dancy, but I read it as “Darcy” all the way through to the end. Could not keep it straight in my head. I keep writing “Darcy” in this review, too.

I take issue with the cover. There are no fireworks in the story.

It seemed like every other page, someone’s exercising. Swimming, working out, running, kayaking. Exercise and being in nature are important and he’s a professional athlete, I get it, but the number of walks they went on was obnoxious.

The terms “floating staircase,” “reclaimed wood,” “earthenware,” “glass walls,” and “catwalk” were used to describe Clint’s house. Was it absolutely ridiculous and over the top? Yes. Was I jealous? Also yes.

For some reason SEP thought it was necessary to describe a Pyrex bowl in detail.

The lost boy could have been cut. Also—you’re supposed to announce to everyone that there’s a confused and vulnerable child and just turn him over to whomever shows up for him? Yep, sounds like TikTok advice.

I don’t remember there being a reason why Dancy wanted a baby so badly. Because she’s female? Doesn’t do much for SEP’s feminist agenda.

I would have liked to see Dancy find out about Mick Watkins. Loose end there.

Has a character pretended to get a cramp while swimming in another of SEP’s books? It seemed familiar while I was reading it. Apologies if I’m wrong.

Erin and Shane were rather shoehorned in. I didn’t like switching to Shane’s POV. It might have been more suitable for Dancy’s arc to befriend a woman who’d lost a child in some way; instead, SEP chose to highlight another way women can be used and abused. It works, but I feel it wasn’t the best narrative choice to make.

I don’t understand why either Dancy or Clint had to go into Walmart. Covid happened, you can have your purchases brought out to your car now.

It upset me that they didn’t immediately take Watch to the vet. He was described as nearly dead, we assume he was hit by a car, yet they have the arrogance and ignorance to think a bath and a Band-Aid was all he needed. And food and water, obviously. What if he had broken bones or internal bleeding? Parasites, diseases, health conditions? They just had someone at the shelter eyeball him a few days later. We’re not even told if his wound heals well. They change his bandage a couple times and nothing else.

I did love Watch’s antics, though, especially his love to be on—and in—the water. His epilogue was adorable.

This has to be the first time I’ve read a couple making out under a leaky sink. We were never told if the sink got fixed.

I was absolutely infuriated by the complete lack of annoying creatures in their backwoods Wisconsin haven. The sounds of insects are mentioned in an innocuous, atmospheric capacity, but there aren’t any ants mining between the patio pavers, or spiders making creepy webs on the patio furniture, or flies buzzing around their outdoor meals, or mosquitoes biting them all the time. It was a perfect, lovely, luxurious woodland paradise, AND I CALL BULLSHIT. I’d assume Clint hired pest control to spray, but he didn’t want anyone on his property, so maybe he did it himself.