The average football player has the guts to step
on a field and risk losing a spleen to Ray Lewis. Your everyday basketball
player will take one for the team by taking a charge from Shaquille O'Neal. The
typical baseball player will stay in the batter's box and face chin music from
Roger Clemens rather than retreat. And who's afraid of a puck traveling at 100
miles per hour? Not hockey players.
But put any of them in the
locker-room shower with someone who's gay, and watch them run.
When it
comes to men's team sports, bravado does have limits, after all. By suiting up,
a "real man" routinely ignores the possibility of intense physical pain, bodily
harm or life in a wheelchair. That same "real man" will feel very threatened,
however, should one of his teammates, after announcing he's homosexual, ask for
the soap.
That's why you'll probably never see an openly gay man in
professional team sports, and Colorado Rockies pitcher Todd Jones was only
confirming why the other day, when a Denver newspaper asked him about
it.
"I wouldn't want a gay guy being around me," said Jones, when he was
asked for comment in a story regarding the Broadway play "Take Me Out," which is
about an openly gay major leaguer. For his honesty, Jones was wrist-slapped
Tuesday by the Rockies, who quickly announced Jones doesn't speak for the
team.
Maybe he doesn't for the organization. But I suspect Jones does
speak for about 90 percent of his team, Major League Baseball, the NFL, the NBA,
the NHL, many colleges, high schools and a fair number of pee-wee squads with
boys old enough to know the difference.
Only the naïve would doubt the
Denver Broncos' Shannon Sharpe when he told HBO last year that former NFL player
Esera Tuaolo would've been "eaten alive" by teammates had Tuaolo announced he
was gay before he retired.
Only someone with his head in the ground
thought the Giants' Jeremy Shockey was just joking when he drew the line against
dressing and showering next to a gay teammate.
Only a person who doesn't
realize how deep the macho culture runs in sports can imagine this will change
anytime soon.
When you examine it, the rampant homophobia in men's sports
seems stupid. Some of the toughest, meanest people on the planet routinely
demonstrate their courage by playing risky or violent games. Then they become
punks when it comes to being around gays. It makes you wonder: Exactly what
danger does a gay teammate present to a straight one? Isn't the potential victim
here the one who outs himself? Of course, the threat against straight players
lies only in perception, nothing else. Having a gay teammate would generate
suspicion, rumor and jokes, and the average hetero jock couldn't handle that.
You must understand the typical locker room. It's where testosterone and "guy
talk" rules. It's a sanctuary that all but advertises itself as being for
straight males-only.
Almost from junior high on, the athlete develops a
low tolerance for anyone who doesn't fit his profile. Even in high school, his
coaches warn against being "a sissy." The process takes root and an unofficial
club is formed. The straight athlete develops an inflexible attitude. The gay
athlete takes stock of his surroundings, realizes it could turn hostile, and
figures it's best to keep a secret.
An openly gay player in a pro sports
locker room, therefore, would be as welcome as a mouse running through a
sorority house. His teammates, very subtly in most cases, would likely avoid
him. The media crush would make any confession a complete waste of good
intention anyway. Interview after interview would focus on the plight of being a
gay Jackie Robinson; meanwhile, teammates, even the supportive ones, would
resent the circus in the clubhouse. There's no telling how the drunks in the
stands would react, especially these days when first-base umpires and coaches
are tackling dummies.
The only way it might work is if a Hall of
Fame-caliber player came out, and he wouldn't do so unless he had already made
his money, since endorsement dough would dry up faster than a Dennis Miller
joke.
That's too bad. I'd like to think many of us could care less.
Sports is supposed to be different than politics, corporate board rooms and
other 9-to-5s. Sports is about meritocracy, at least on the field, where the
best are applauded and respected as long as they don't do anything
dumb.
Obviously, the rules are different in the clubhouse.
Most of
our strong and tough athletes wouldn't want a "gay guy" being around them, to
quote a Rockies player. And yet: If a "gay guy" did come around, I'd immediately
recognize the strongest and toughest athlete of all.
Copyright © 2003, Newsday,
Inc.