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Randy Boyd is the recipient of three
Lambda Literary Award nominations and the author of the suspense
thriller, The
Devil Inside, coming in April. On his company’s
website, you can also vote in the Celebrity
Butt Challenge, part of the Buttmen Fun Zone.
Editor's note: This is an
expanded version of a column that first ran in February. This
particular's story focus is black male athletes who are same-gender
loving. Any exclusion of other demographics is not a reflection on the
value or worth of other ethnic groups or genders.
When
Will The Walls Come Tumbling Down?
Will there ever be a
time when black athletes on the down low can be on the up high?
By
Randy Boyd
For Outsports.com
In November 1991, Earvin “Magic”
Johnson came out on the then-popular Arsenio Hall Show. Came
out as a straight person, that is. Days before, Magic had admitted his
HIV status to the world and retired from basketball (for the first
time). With the world still reeling from the shocking announcement,
the Lakers star with the billion-dollar smile sat on his buddy’s
studio couch and promptly reiterated something he had already
reiterated in Sports Illustrated: “I’m far from homosexual.
Far from it.”
Arsenio’s audience went ballistic,
cheering, pumping their fists in the air, howling “woof, woof,
woof!”. You’d think Magic had just wiped out famine or discovered
a cure for breast cancer. Nah, he had just reassured the straight
world that, although one of its biggest sports superstars was infected
with the deadly virus, he was still a Man.
During that same week, longtime Lakers
announcer Chick Hearn looked a TV camera dead in the eye and warned,
“Don’t think he got it the wrong way.” Translation: Magic was a
slut, a ho and a freak, but he was a Man. There is a right way to get
HIV and a wrong way. Even a bozo who can’t make it past the first
round of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire can tell the difference.
Flash ahead circa 10 years to the
present day. Kordell Stewart, black quarterback for the Pittsburgh
Steelers, does a 180 reminiscent of a pretty young gymnast on the
balance beam, and says that, after years of silence on the subject, he
will now talk about his sexuality. His heterosexuality, that is. You
see, during some of his less productive seasons in the late ’90s,
Stewart was the subject of gay rumors that kept creeping up all over
the sports world: in the stands, in chat rooms, on sports talk radio,
in sports magazines. He also kept the Google search engine on the net
pretty busy for anyone typing in the words “Kordell Stewart gay.”
Kordell’s initial response to the
rumors had been, “it’s nobody’s business,” insisting that his
life off the field was a private matter not up for public scrutiny.
Now apparently, he has decided that his sexuality is our
business. In the Jan. 14 2002 issue of Sports Illustrated,
writer Michael Silver described what really went on in the
much-publicized, 1999, closed-locker-room meeting where Kordell
addressed the homo rumors with his teammates. (Anyone wanna bet that,
to a man, they were all showered and fully dressed?) Silver says that
in that manly powwow (imagine the Promise Keepers meets the John Wayne
Fan Club), Stewart issued a denial of all things lavender, then
proceeded to share graphic descriptions of the heterosexual acts that
gave him wood. “I could see the humor in the situation,” Stewart
said, “so I decided to have some fun with it. At one point I said,
‘You'd better not leave your girlfriends around me, because I'm out
to prove a point.’ A couple of guys said, ‘F*** you, Kordell,’
and we all cracked up.”
This season, in the midst of a
resurgence by Kordell and the Steelers, star running back Jerome
Bettis told the Associated Press: “I see a different quarterback, in
the sense of his relationship with the players. He's a lot closer than
he has been. For a while, he was defensive, he kind of kept his guard
up. He's been more of a locker room guy this year. I think that's
good, because it makes him a better football player in the long
run.”
Magic Johnson denies being a lover of
men and goes on to be the shining example of someone allegedly cured
of his wicked ways and AIDS.
Kordell Stewart denies diving into the
kinds of end zones they don’t paint with team logos and goes on to
return the Steelers to championship contention in their shiny new
Heinz Field, the house that ketchup built.
Little Has Changed
We got (mostly) white gay characters
traipsing around on prime time television. We got (mostly) white
lesbians holding hands on the red carpet at Hollywood awards shows.
One can even argue that we’ve seen more visibility in the media for
gays of all colors in the last two decades (OK, compared to zero
visibility, that’s probably true). But in the highly homophobic,
testosterone-overloaded world of manly man’s sports, has anything
changed since Magic promised to educate the world about AIDS? Has
anything changed since Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in
baseball?
Internally, perhaps. But externally,
the answer is similar to what black men mostly hear when applying for
managerial positions in baseball. Hell, no.
First internally: listen long and hard
enough around the gym, the sports bar, the private players’ parking
lots at the arena, and you’re bound to get wind (or rumors) of signs
of acceptance, or at least tolerance, for those same-gender loving
brothers who aren’t too “obvious” and don’t flaunt it (how
many times do I have to tell you: no rainbow flags!). OK, so
there might be an NBA player or two who takes a male
“friend” to a team function and only a clueless Ricky Martin fan
wouldn’t get the gist. OK, so there might be some annual
barbeques where athletes on the down low don’t have to be so down or
so low, where they can groove with each other comfortably while
D’Angelo is playing on the CD. OK, so maybe the inner circle
of jockdom is somewhat blasé about gay jocks and is real good at
keeping secrets and things are relatively “cool” on the inside for
a big-name, established player who is SGL but keeps it real
(translation: keep yo’ shit in da closet!).
Because of the higher awareness and
tolerance of gays in the culture at large, it’s entirely possible
that some black gay men in the pro ranks have it relatively easier
today than, say, Glenn Burke, the black baseball player in the late
’70s/early ’80s who was thought by some to have possessed enough
talent to be the next Willie Mays. Burke didn’t hide it or flaunt
it, but people who spend that much time together are bound to find out
more than you want them to (can I get an “amen” from anyone who
works in a cubicle?). And when baseball found out about Burke, his
budding career hyperspaced into the bottom of the ninth with two outs,
two strikes and no men on base. The Dodgers tried to get him married
off to a woman. When that failed, they traded him. He eventually
retired a bitter, far-from-rich man and died of AIDS in the late
’80s, though he found a measure of community and peace living in the
San Francisco Bay Area and playing in the local gay softball leagues.
Faggot: A Fighting Word
Depending on who you believe, the Glenn
Burkes in today’s big leagues have it easier, and when it comes to
acceptance of SGL men, the sports world has inched ahead at a
snail’s pace while the rest of the world is moving snappily along
at, well, a slightly faster snail’s pace. But like the habitually
hapless LA Clippers or the pennant-starved Chicago Cubs, the sports
world has a long, long way to go before reaching the mount on high. On
an ESPN report about gay athletes, several black baseball players
expressed discomfort at the idea of sharing the locker room with a gay
teammate (we gotta stop raping and convertin’ ’em on the spot,
guys!). The Sixers’ Allen Iverson is a homophobe and damn proud of
it (calls taunting fans ``faggot,'' and let’s not forget the
ill-fated, epithet-laced rap album). Heavyweight boxers Lennox Lewis
and Hasim Rahman broke out in a fight at a sports restaurant when
Lewis’s sexual orientation was called into question. Seems like
whenever a Man—excuse me, an athlete—is backed into a corner, he
comes out with those ultimate fighting words: faggot.
Lest we paint all black athletes with
the same broad brushstroke, there are promising stories of the
anti-anti-gay athlete. Former Denver Bronco Reggie Rivers, in his
column for the Denver Post, condemned homophobia, likening it
to the kind of ignorant racism that has divided and defined much of
America and its history. Even a single modern day
god/warrior/gladiator shouting down prejudice and discrimination
against gays goes a long way in combating the Allen Iversons of the
world.
But is there any true, bright, shining
light at the end of the tunnel for athletes on the down low? Or will
they always be searching for a wife who’s willing to make up in
shopping sprees what she won’t be getting in the bedroom? And what
hope lies ahead for impressionable athletes who are young, gifted,
black and gay? Will they shy away from sport, fearful of not
fitting in? Will they represses what comes naturally to them off the
field to excel at what comes naturally to them on the field? What will
it take for the sports world and indeed, the whole world, to accept
athletes who, when “The Hey Song” fades and the stadium lights are
turned off, retreat into the loving arms of another man?
It’s another answer worthy of the
early rounds of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
It will take the same thing it took for
any black man to be accepted on the fields of Yankee Stadium, Lambeau
Field, the Georgia Dome, et al. It will take the gay equivalent of
Jackie Robinson. And another gay equivalent of Jackie Robinson after
that. And another gay equivalent of Jackie Robinson after that. And
maybe another several dozen men after that—all of them being honest,
courageous, who they are. Playing the game they love and enduring the
crap sure to come their way. For when you break down walls, you’re
bound to be hit by the falling debris. But look at what Jackie and his
fellow pioneers did for the black athlete. And just imagine what the
Jackie Robinson of the 21st century can do for same gender
loving people the world over. The answer, Regis: bring us closer to
that moment of glory. The day when same all gender loving athletes are
living on the up high!, instead of the down low.
More Randy, more sports: Under
the Bleachers at straightacting.com.
Randy's Outsports
archive
March 15, 2002
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