Nobody saw it coming. A six-episode hockey romance on HBO about two rival players in a secret relationship was not supposed to be the show of the moment. And then it was. Heated Rivalry arrived on November 28, 2025, premiered to a 96% on Rotten Tomatoes, and became the most talked-about new show of winter 2025 within days. It has been in HBO Max’s Top 10 essentially since it dropped. Its two lead actors, Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams, went from relative unknowns to certifiable stars in the space of a single season. And yes, people are still tweeting about their butts.
But here is the thing about Heated Rivalry that gets lost in the discourse about its steamier moments: it is genuinely, substantively good television. The kind of show that earns its passion rather than just displaying it.
What It Is
Heated Rivalry is based on Rachel Reid’s 2019 novel of the same name, the second book in her Game Changers series of queer hockey romances. The TV adaptation was created and written by Jacob Tierney, who also directed several episodes. The story spans eight years, following Canadian hockey golden boy Shane Hollander and Russian star Ilya Rozanov from the moment they meet at junior championships through the long, complicated arc of their secret relationship.
Shane and Ilya play for rival teams. They are the two best players in Major League Hockey and the press treats them as natural enemies. The show opens with their first meeting and immediately establishes something crucial: these two men are drawn to each other in a way neither of them has words for yet. Their rivalry is real. So is everything else.
The Performances
Hudson Williams as Shane is a revelation. Shane is written as the golden boy, the clean-cut Canadian who plays by the rules and carries the weight of every expectation placed on him since he was a teenager. Williams finds the cracks in that perfect surface and fills them with something quiet and aching. You understand exactly why this man has spent years hiding and exactly how much it has cost him.
Connor Storrie’s Ilya is the flashier role and Storrie plays it without ever letting it become a performance. Ilya is loud, cocky, occasionally infuriating, and underneath all of it completely terrified of the same things Shane is. The chemistry between the two of them is the thing that lifts the show from very good to exceptional. Every scene they share crackles. Their banter is funny. Their vulnerable moments are devastating. Episode five, which centers on a phone call between Shane and Ilya after a period of separation, is already being discussed as one of the best single pieces of television in recent memory.
What Makes It Work
The show is honest about the world these men exist in. Hockey culture is not particularly welcoming to queer players, and Heated Rivalry does not pretend otherwise. The fear that runs through both Shane and Ilya is not abstract. It is grounded in something recognizable: the very reasonable understanding that being out in their sport could cost them everything they have worked for. The show does not resolve that tension cheaply or quickly. It lives in it for most of the season.
The structure is smart. The time jumps across eight years of the relationship give the story room to breathe and let the audience feel the weight of how long these two men have been navigating something with no roadmap. Each episode drops you into a different chapter of their lives and trusts you to fill in the gaps. It is a technique that could easily feel disjointed, but under Tierney’s direction it builds into something genuinely moving.
The supporting cast is solid, with François Arnaud particularly good as Scott Hunter, a storyline from Reid’s earlier book Game Changer that is woven into episode three in a structural choice that initially seems risky and pays off completely by the end of the season.
The Criticism
The show is not perfect. Some of the supporting characters around Shane’s family feel underdeveloped, and a few scenes in the early episodes lean into exposition in ways that are slightly clunky. The six-episode season is both a strength and a weakness. It keeps the pacing tight and prevents the story from overstaying its welcome, but it also means certain emotional beats do not get the room they might deserve. Season two, which has already been confirmed, will have a chance to correct this.
The Cultural Moment
It would be remiss not to mention what this show has meant beyond its quality. Storrie and Williams showing up at a gay sports bar in West Hollywood to thank the crowd is one thing. The references at actual NHL games are another. Heated Rivalry broke into mainstream cultural conversation in a way that queer stories do not always manage, and it did so not by softening itself but by being exactly what it is. Steamy, emotionally committed, and completely unashamed.
Rachel Reid, who has been open about her Parkinson’s diagnosis and the challenges it has brought to her writing, watched her novel become a phenomenon this winter. Whatever comes next for the show and the book series, that matters.
The Verdict
Heated Rivalry is one of the best new shows of 2025. It is sharply written, beautifully performed, and genuinely affecting in ways that sneak up on you. Yes it is sexy. But more than that it is the story of two people who love each other and cannot figure out how to be brave enough to say it out loud. That is a story as old as storytelling. Heated Rivalry just happens to tell it better than most.
Season two cannot come soon enough.
Heated Rivalry Season 1 is streaming now on HBO Max. Created by Jacob Tierney. Based on the novel by Rachel Reid.
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