I’d like to make a proposal: It’s time to officially launch the Texas chapter of the Heated Rivalry fan club. Furthermore, I’d like to throw my hat in the ring to serve as secretary of the Dallas branch. Why not president? My obsession may be next-level bonkers, but I know there are others far more deserving to lead such a group, based on the last few weeks I’ve spent on social media, scrolling and finding other loon-atics (IYKYK).

I haven’t written an entertainment piece in years. The last was my critique of Wes Anderson’s flick The French Dispatch. I quite enjoyed that movie and have always been a huge admirer of Anderson’s work. But, my complete obsession…devotion…perhaps the best word is simply love of Heated Rivalry marks the first time I’ve ever felt this way about a piece of entertainment. (Full disclosure, it likely ties with Donna Tartt’s The Secret History as my favorite story ever.) The show’s creator, Jacob Tierney, has concocted a champagne supernova. So, I decided it was time to put fingers to keyboard again and write my own homage to the phenomenon.

Seemingly every other writer on the planet has addressed the fervor created by the HBO/Crave series. In a recent online piece, Vogue’s Emma Specter shared “39 Thoughts I Had While Watching the Season 1 Finale of Heated Rivalry.“ (BTW, I wish I had thought of this angle. I easily had that many observations — if not more — while watching that episode.) Vulture has posted at least five stories about Heated Rivalery on their site and just published another about the marathon watch parties happening in NYC. (And, yes, I do plan to share the news if any of those pop up in Dallas.) Even podcasts like Empty Netters, where three straight hockey experts generally talk about what’s happening en route to the Stanley Cup, have been doing oh-so watchable live streams as they watch and comment on the episodes.

It’s weird. I’ve never had to use the term “spoilers ahead” when writing an article. But if you have yet to watch the series, rest assured that I won’t share anything here that will ruin anything for you. Instead, I just want to write about finding connection through this show. As a gay man, I’m fortunate to have found a community of LGBTQ+ folks and allies, but honestly, I’m not that guy who regularly goes to pride parades and finds further connections with strangers. Please don’t judge me. Perhaps I should, and perhaps one day I will. I have so much respect for those who do and for all they have helped accomplish in terms of rights (although there is still lots more to strive for). Heated Rivalry has helped me connect with others — gay, straight, white, black, men, women, young, old — who share my inspiration in a beautiful romance that happens to be between two men.

Here’s my origin story of finding the story of Ilya and Shane. Like many others in early December, I heard Heated Rivalry mentioned here and there amongst friends: “You’ve got to watch this new show about gay hockey players. It’s really hot — and interesting.” … “Don’t worry, you don’t need to know a damn thing about hockey. And when you are finished with the series, you likely won’t learn anything new about the sport.”

Honestly, I started and stopped the first episode three times. It was just a little too titillating for my tastes — a bit soapy, even. Then on December 11, I went to a holiday party where the guest list was primarily made up of gay guys and girls. I ended up leaving somewhat early, a little bummed that I hadn’t flirted with anyone, and decided to give Heated Rivalry another shot when I got home. I started at 11 pm and didn’t go to bed until 5 am. Perhaps this is a spoiler: Episode three made me so happy and ugly-cry that I watched it three times before I wound down my night at 4 am by watching episode four, which had dropped the previous evening.

I honestly can’t explain how this Canadian series, which was apparently produced on a shoestring budget, has turned me into a joyous adolescent, riding a roller coaster of emotions with complete abandon. But perhaps I should share a little of my own backstory. I was a teenager in the 1980s in the South, which was not a great time and place to be gay. It was the era of AIDS, and the only movies with gay content were incredibly depressing, depicting those succumbing to the disease that tore through the community in that decade. The occasional gay characters on TV were usually flamboyant stereotypes who most definitely weren’t finding love in a beautiful and pure way. It likely took shows such as Ellen, Queer As Folk, Will & Grace, and The L-Word to walk that hard road so that today Shane and Ilya can skate towards complete acceptance.

I’ve likely watched the entire series a dozen times now. In fact, a girlfriend was recently in town, and after a night of drinking, we plopped on my couch at midnight, and I insisted she watch it simply so I could experience her reaction to the show. I’ve spent the last two weeks on social media, looking for anything I can find about “the boys” (which many fans adoringly call the stars, Hudson Williams and Connor Storie — HudCon, for the uninitiated). Through this, I’ve found a group that, like me, can’t get enough of Shane and Ilya.

I devoured everything I could find about the boys making their first Hollywood awards season appearance at the Golden Globes. After watching Gayle King’s brief interview with Connor on the red carpet (skip to 38:46), I commented on an Instagram post, “I love how he goes on and on about how great his old boss was, even though he was on the verge of being fired — Connor is so humble and genuinely kind.” King had asked how he got the role, and Connor said he was still working as a waiter and had been written up by his boss on the morning he got the call that he had been cast as Ilya. Again and again, he said how great his old boss was. I was shocked when I went back on Instagram 12 hours later and saw that close to 3,000 people had liked my comment. (BTW that number continues to grow.)

That’s when it dawned on me: Is this the connection I’ve been searching for? A community of others I don’t know and may never meet, who also believe in the power of love and the inspiration that can come from respecting an actor who just months ago was still a waiter. It’s the quintessential underdog construct: finding that person who achieved instant fame and is still as down-to-earth as we hoped he would be. That’s an oddly good feeling as I head into this new year.

If you haven’t yet watched Heated Rivalry, hopefully I’ve intrigued you enough to give it a try. If you are already a loon-atic, we can discuss launching that fan club. And, rest assured, I’ve decided to officially become the Texas journalist covering the HR beat in our state. Yes, if they decide to host a HudCon-con in Dallas, I’ll be working that red carpet. Shoot me a DM @reallywrongfong if you have any HR story ideas.