49 pages • 1 hour read
John GrishamA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Bleachers highlights the dangers of hero-worshiping, specifically focusing on the idolization of sports stars in small-town America. The glorification of high school athletes and their coaches, who are ultimately fallible humans, often comes at a cost. Grisham’s novel puts that cost on full display. He directly parallels the town’s attitude toward football with religion, highlighting the extremity to which many towns take the sport. Through the displays of obsession via the town décor (both inside and outside), their annual spending, and their elevation of teenagers, Bleachers explores just how much harm can be done when priorities aren’t in check.
Religious symbolism throughout the novel makes it clear that the people of Messina treat athletics as their god. The Field is considered “sacred” (3), and there is mention of a “shrine to Rake” (45) in the local diner, where pictures of him and the trophies are displayed for all to see. Even after Rake was fired, a bronze statue of the man was erected in town: “It was an altar, and Neely could see the Spartans bowing down before it as they made their way onto the field each Friday night” (8). These “altars” and “shrines,” as Neely deems them, are found all over town. When Neely visits Messina High School, he recalls “He once heard someone say that the lobby of the gym was the heart and soul of Messina. It was more of a shrine to Eddie Rake, an alter where his followers could worship” (72). The mere density of locations that celebrate Spartan football allows no room for outside opinions. Rake and his team are unapologetically idolized, and before long the praise goes to their heads.
Another religious parallel is the multiple sacrifices the people of Messina make for the Spartans. Financially, the town continuously gives to their football team, including a meal “once a week at Renfrow’s for no charge” (44) and only the finest equipment: “No expense was spared. Not for the Spartan football team” (7). Another sacrifice crosses the line from religious parallel to one more often connected with cults. Cameron, when listing the ridiculous ways their town worships teenage boys, says “The stupid little girls who can’t wait to give it up to a Spartan. All for the good of the team. Messina needs its young virgins to sacrifice everything” (113). Cameron, as the level-headed outsider, recognizes the sacrificial and detrimental effects of the town’s hero worship.
The people that make up the town of Messina are allegedly good, ordinary people who simply long for “bragging rights” and to be “put on the map” (49). The stakes are high because they feel that football is their one claim to fame. Most of the families who grow up in Messina end up staying there for generations, so football is a town tradition, or ritual, as much as it is a religion. Paul describes being held up as a hero in Messina: “You count the years until you get a varsity jersey, then you’re a hero, an idol, a cocky bastard because in this town you can do no wrong. You win and win and you’re the king of your own little world, then poof, it’s gone” (11). The lasting psychological effects of being a fallen hero affect all the Spartans. Grisham’s message is clear: Even the mightiest of heroes fall, and if we place our identity in our heroes, we are destined to fall right alongside them.
Neely is clear when he reenters Messina that “nothing had changed” (43). The school colors, green and white, are still used everywhere, the rituals of football stay the same, and the people are unmoved in their local political beliefs. Bleachers offers a critique on towns that are too resistant to change, and how the close-minded approach to regional traditions can be so harmful to its people that they are driven out of town. Three people from Neely’s generation must leave Messina to either find themselves or happiness outside of the norms and expectations of Messina: Nat, Cameron, and Ellen (Rake’s eldest daughter).
Nat Sawyer never lived up to the tropes of toxic masculinity displayed by other Spartans. He “couldn’t run and hated to hit” and “[n]one of Rake’s players looked worse in a uniform” (61). His status as a Spartan kept him relatively safe in high school, but he still was an outsider compared to the likes of Neely and Silo. When Neely asks Nat how he came out of the closet in a town like Messina, Nat tells him that he didn’t. He elaborates, saying “I sort of migrated to D.C., where it didn’t take me long to figure out who I am and what I am” (68). Exploring a sexuality outside the heteronormative confines in Messina would be met with prejudice, and it took Nat leaving home to find himself. However, returning home proves to be no simple task. Rake is the first person in whom Nat confides that he’s gay, and Rake, who isn’t originally from Messina, is accepting of Nat. The rest of the town isn’t as forgiving, “People stare and point and whisper and grab their children” (66) so Nat avoids the games. Additionally, business was difficult the first few years because “Most of the yokels thought they’d catch AIDS when they walked in the front door” (64). It is only when the rumor spreads that Rake liked to spend time at Nat’s place that business picked up for him. His return was only slightly easier because of Rake’s support, both publicly and privately.
Cameron is another character who “couldn’t wait to leave this town” (131). Though she initially was part of the popular crowd when she dated Neely, that changed once he dumped her. She began to hate football, leaving Messina to attend college at “Hollins, an all-girls school, so [she] could avoid football” (128), and she sends her eldest daughter to a school that doesn’t have a football team. For Cameron, Messina represented everything that had caused her so much loss: the obsession with football, empowering women based on looks alone, and the ostracization of anyone who didn’t agree with the existing traditions and values of the town. She tells Neely that she only attended the games after they broke up because that was the only thing to do in Messina on a Friday night. She explains how she and her friend would watch from the visitor’s side, where they “ridiculed the band and the cheerleaders and the Pep Squad and everything else, and we did so because we were not a part of it. I couldn’t wait to get to college” (134). She was ultimately thankful to Neely for being pushed out of the circle. When she left Messina, she was free to explore more than what the small town had offered—and neglected to offer—her.
Lastly, Rake’s own children fled Messina as soon as they were old enough. Though the novel doesn’t flesh out these characters as much, Grisham does give some background to Ellen, the eldest of Rake’s daughters. Ellen, and her sisters, left the town after graduating: “Her father’s shadow was too mammoth for his children to survive in such a small place. She was in her mid-forties, a psychiatrist in Boston, and had the air of someone who was out of place” (145). Additionally, Cameron alludes to potential domestic violence in the Rake household. Cameron tells Neely, “Miss Lila is a strong woman, but she was no match for [Rake]. He was a dictator on the field, and he had trouble turning it off when he got home” (132-33). This could be another factor in Ellen’s departure from Messina.
For all the negativity surrounding football culture in small towns, the sport of American football itself is one that promotes many fine values. It encourages teamwork, strategy, perseverance, and agility. Arguably the most important aspect of football is that it gives the players a sense of brotherhood. This bond created on the football field transcends any differences the players may have, and for the Spartans, it even transcends generations and familiarity.
Some of the players meet for the first time in Bleachers, while they wait for Rake’s passing, and they are instantly brothers. Sherriff Mal Brown, one of the earliest of Spartans, is one such example. He approaches Neely on the bleachers, even though he’s a stranger: “To [Neely’s] recollection, he had never met Mal Brown. He wasn’t the Sherriff when Neely lived in Messina. Neely knew the legend, but not the man. Didn’t matter. They were fraternity brothers” (38). Before long, Mal is sharing his experiences under Rake’s coaching alongside Neely, Paul, Silo, and even Jaeger, who is one of the youngest players to reminisce with them.
There are a few instances when Mal himself extends this feeling of fraternity to other players. One instance is when he, Neely, and Paul drive to visit Jesse at the detention center. The name of Andy Tugdale, another former Spartan who was arrested, comes up in conversation. Mal says when Andy was in jail, “I played cards with him, somethin’ I always do when we get one of Rake’s boys in. I give ’em a special cell, better food, weekend passes” to which Paul replies with “The perks of brotherhood” (114). A perk of brotherhood is what allows Jesse to come to the funeral and is the reason for the trip that morning. Likewise, Nat receives special treatment from Mal. It is implied that Mal is likely prejudiced against gay men, and “Had Nat not been a former Spartan, Mal would’ve probably had him under surveillance as a suspicious character” (105). Being a Spartan calls for unwavering and unquestioning loyalty, regardless of one’s own beliefs, and this is what protects Nat enough to stay in Messina.
In Bleachers, reminiscing, like football, is a team sport. Each time the players gather in the bleachers to remember the glory days, smaller groups inevitably form. This happens when Nat brings the recording of the 1987 championship game to the stands, and “In the semi-darkness, the fraternity had quietly grown larger. Other players had eased over or slid down the bleachers, close enough to hear the play-by-play” (85). Throughout the novel, the preexisting brotherhood strengthens between the players, especially between Neely, Paul, Nat, and Silo. All of them have very different lives now, but under those Friday night lights, and forever onward, they are one.
By John Grisham