Coming out is difficult. It always is. People start to assume that you're someone different than the person they knew and, supposedly, loved before you told them your "shameful little secret" (oh, how it grates me to phrase it like that, but it's how it's often perceived). After reading
this post, you'd think that the world was now a big, queer-friendly hugfest. Don't get me wrong, I love Dorothy S and her humour (and Tank Top Tuesday), but she lives in a world far removed from mine.
These days, even Johnny Weir gets lambasted for being "not family friendly". (Um, supporting his younger brother through college and supporting his family financially because his father's disability affects his ability to work is "not family friendly". WTF?) He's a frigging figure skater! He still maintains a "no comment" approach to discussing his sexuality, which, to be fair, is well within his rights. So, if we can't accept figure skaters (not that I'm stereotyping, but they are more likely to be out and proud than other gay sportspeople), what chance do folks in "more butch" sports have?
Is it because the other men in the changing rooms will feel threatened? (Ooh, he might look at my johnson and get turned on. He might make a move on me. Aargh! I might enjoy it and then he would've made me gay too! AARGH!) Seriously, come off it. If you haven't already discovered that part of yourself, chances are you really are heterosexual. Alternatively, maybe you need to loosen up and dip your toe in the water to reassure yourself? (A very butch friend of mine did it. He's discovered he really is straight.)
Alternatively, is it because of the sponsors? Some sports are very much sponsor-driven; the people benefiting from a company's generosity (read: shameless self-promotion using the young, pretty and famous to sell their stuff) are expected to toe the company line. They can't do anything that's "not family friendly" or their funding is cut. David Coulthard made an interesting comment in
his book about the advent of Lewis Hamilton's F1 career - it was to the tune that some sponsors could pull out of McLaren for racist reasons. Now, I may not be the biggest Hamilton fan, but you do have to admit that the man deserves his race seat. Statistically, given the number of drivers over the years, at least one or two have been gay. We've had five women (it could've been six if Danica Patrick had taken Richard Branson up on his offer. Maybe in the future?) in a traditionally male-dominated sport, so it's not entirely outside the realm of possibility. No doubt, if a name was added to
this list (which, I must say, horrifies me a little. It's awesome that teenaged queerlings can google "gay sports figures" and find a list of role models to look up to, but the thought of having people reduced to a name on a "gay list" leaves a bad taste in my mouth), some of the sponsors would withdraw funding.
I suppose the bottom line is this: why do people (well-known and otherwise) feel the need to hide their partners from their work colleagues (and/or public) for fear of rejection/committing career suicide? Surely it shouldn't be a choice between holding the one you love's hand in public and being able to compete in a sport that a) funds your life and b) is your life's ambition?
(Yes, I know that NPH is NPH and not Barney. However, for the sake of the title...)
