That sound you heard was Tim Hardaway blowing out his transmission by throwing himself into reverse from fifth-gear homophobia. Yeah, that explains the smoke, too. Here we are, just over a week after the release of John Amaechi's book. Apparently, this issue still has some incendiary qualities.
Those recent explosions are evidence that we have reached a plateau in gay acceptance in sports. Although many athletes don't care about the extracurriculars of teammate, most assume that a player cannot come out on a professional sports team. And it will continue to be assumed until someone does it, whether in a few months or a few decades.
This is not an open issue like race. This one is, well, in the closet. Which makes the existence of current gay players irrelevant — no one knows who they are. There has never been the Jackie Robinson to take the initial onslaught of ignorance on the field and in the locker room. He proved through exemplary character and a Hall of Fame career that black people deserved a place in professional sports, paving the road and allowing others to follow a smoother path than he did, even if he didn't erase the prejudice entirely.
It will take a certain kind of player to come out. Honestly, John Amaechi couldn't have effectively been the guy; the team could have cast the journeyman aside for "other" reasons. It will have to be a good player, someone a team couldn't quietly jettison.
He also has to have off-field respect from teammates. A loner or social pariah will not have the support network to deal with the fallout.
He will have to have thick skin, and maybe a flak jacket, to take the inevitable bigoted shrapnel.
But despite that, it will not be as hard as most think. Hardaway proved animosity exists. But most players' reactions seem to stem from discomfort and ignorance, not hate. Even Hardaway sounded more childishly stupid than angry.
And even if I underestimate the negative sentiment within sports, look the backlash faced by Hardaway. Sportswriters, fans, and various other groups routinely blast ignorant, prejudiced statements (see: Paul Houring, Garrison Hearst, John Rocker, Rush Limbaugh, etc). Image is everything (read: dollars), and athletes know this. And if they don't, team and league public relations departments do. Hardaway was banished by the league from NBA-sanctioned appearances in Las Vegas for the All-Star Game and lost endorsements for essentially one poorly-phrased sentence. It would be tough, but a gay athlete would not face half the hardship and strife of previous pioneers. Their persecutors, however, will find their image leveled and wallets lightened.
Of course, public tolerance and actual acceptance are two different things. But after the initial shock, most teammates of that first player will realize how little effect his orientation will have on the team. It will also hit them that they have showered with the guy and, lo and behold, he never jumped anyone, or even looked at teammates that way.
In American History X, it wasn't until Derek Vinyard interacted with the black inmate that saved his life while in prison did he begin to reject the white-supremacy doctrines he had been force-fed from youth.
Obviously, this is less extreme prejudice but the principle remains. People fear things that are different and that they don't understand, and you can't dismantle a stereotype in segregation. I never have had a problem with gay people, but not until I had one as a teammate and friend was I really that comfortable and able to wrap my mind around it.
The pop image of the Queer Eye guys is the only thing athletes know about gay people. Many athletes have stated erroneously that they have never met one. Only exposure to other gay people can shake that notion that an effeminate disposition and attraction towards guys are the defining characteristics of gay people. No person is that one dimensional; people need to learn to look deeper.
Even within the gay community, there are divergences. Homosexuality doesn't require an Andy Dick accent or a sorority-worthy infatuation with fashion and celebrity gossip (my friend/teammate has neither). The stereotype frankly annoys me (as it does my friend), so I generally avoid spending free time around those who tailor themselves after it.
That doesn't mean I disapprove of such people's existence; they can do what they like, and if I interact with them, I do so respectfully. It also doesn't make me homophobic; the reasons they annoy me have nothing to do with the gender of their significant others. Besides, lots of people annoy me. Being a minority shouldn't shield someone from criticism any more than it should incite hatred.
I'm a pragmatist before an idealist; not all players will have an enlightened attitude on the topic. Many people will simply not be comfortable around an openly gay person. I just think given the chance, they can learn to deal with it the way they deal with any other personal differences between teammates, shelving it along with the rest of society's little squabbles, rather than as the volatile issue it is today. But they won't do that until forced to deal with it.
Even friends have enough differences that they can argue until furniture is thrown; the chasm can resemble the Grand Canyon between people who don't choose to interact regularly.
But once people, through exposure, realize no group is homogeneous, we can continue to progress towards a point where people in general evaluate others by individual merit rather than generalizations, and limit condemnation to those with a demonstrably adverse effect on others.
Discard the rest onto the "I don't like it/agree with it, but who really cares" pile. There's no reason to fight things you can't change.
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