Review by Ian Keogh
Although he has his moments of unhappiness, Eric ‘Bitty’ Bittle is generally a fountain of positivity as he navigates life as part of the college ice hockey team. He’s selected the most LBGTQ-friendly campus for his studies, and in keeping with that his team-mates are supportive, and his frat brothers have come to enjoy his baking compulsion. #Hockey ended with the possibly not so surprise revelation that among the demons star player Jack Zimmerman wrestled with was also being gay. He may have cracked the big time by heading from college straight to the pro leagues, but his regret was leaving Eric behind.
Sticks & Stones opens with Eric back vlogging and acknowledging he’s now in a relationship, but maintaining Jack’s privacy by not disclosing who it’s with. However, Ngozi Ukazu then drops a considerable amount of hockey detail, concerning both new members of the college team and how Jack is adjusting to pro life. It’s an inevitable consequence of the two primary characters playing hockey in different places, although the more intimate scenes, in the non-explicit sense of the term, are sweet interludes.
The tension hanging over the early stages of Sticks & Stones is Eric constantly being asked about Jack by admiring new team members, and Jack being kidded by his new teammates about the girlfriend he’s constantly in touch with. There’s an inevitability to where this will lead, and to her credit Ukazu doesn’t drag out the first stage too long, but neither does she intend to mess with the upbeat mood. While it’s a change to see a world almost universally accepting about same sex relationships, Check Please! is largely set in a recognisably real world, with a lot of effort taken to ensure readers can relate to the cast as credible, allowing for them being slightly exaggerated for dramatic purposes. That being the case, there’s absolutely zero tension in an utterly contented relationship, and repeated scenes of Eric fearful about revelations are hollow for its absence.
It’s deep into Sticks & Stones before Ukazu manages to drag events out of the contentment rut, beginning with a return to the brief diversions that sparked #Hockey. The initiation programme for new team members underlines the earlier lack of variety, but for the closing third Check Please! springs back into life due to an eventual injection of tension. Ukazu details the awkwardness with real feeling via busy art strong on emotional characterisation, and the feelings become just one part of more rounded sequences.
Because the main story is longer, the bonus section is shorter this time, but you’ll have to read the texts to discover the answer to a mystery running through both volumes: just what is Shitty’s actual name?
