Men's silence isolates gays Cost of being different keeps closet door firmly closed in macho world of sports Second in a series By Kirk Bohls and Mark Wangrin (c) 1993 Austin American-Statesman For as long as Dave Kopay could remember, the message he got from sports was one of being part of the team. Fitting in. Gaining acceptance. ``And then suddenly you're `different,' '' the former NFL player said. For Kopay, the difference set him apart from all his former teammates, opponents and everyone else in the history of the game. Kopay was openly and visibly homosexual. ``Being the queer ballplayer isolates you,'' said Kopay, who came out of what he had hoped would be a crowded closet after his 10-year NFL career ended. ``You wonder, `Is there going to be anyone else? Am I going to be alone?' '' In a sense, Dave Kopay is still very much alone. It has been almost 18 years since Kopay, 51, revealed his homosexuality in a landmark series on gays in sports in the now-defunct _Washington Star_. Since then, the NFL has seen four other professional football leagues come and go. Instant replay came and went. Plan B came and went. No other NFL player has come out. Pro football is far from having a monopoly on silence. Glenn Burke, the former Los Angeles Dodger who invented the high five, is the only major- league baseball player to have come out. The rest of a very short list of announced homosexuals includes decathlete Tom Wadell [sic?], a member of the 1968 Olympic team and a founder of the Gay Games, and swimmer Bruce Hayes, a 1984 Olympic gold medalist and an active spokesman for Gay Games IV. All came out after finishing their competitive careers. Several others, such as former Washington Redskin All-Pro tight end Jerry Smith --- who co-owned a gay bar in Austin --- and tennis legend Bill Tilden, have been outed posthumously. If there is to be another Dave Kopay, perhaps a more visible player with All-Pro credentials who comes out at the height of his career, it would not be without benefits. And costs. ``For gay people it would be a wonderful thing,'' said educator Brian Pronger, who has written a book about homosexuality in male sports. ``For young people, it would mean a role model who happens to be gay. Gradually it would create more acceptance. What it would do to the athlete is take away financial gain.'' And that's not just in endorsements, which have been denied athletes who are so much as rumored to be gay. ``Career death,'' is how NFL agent Leigh Steinberg assesses it. ``The first thing that it would cost him would be his career.'' While no athlete has visibly paid that price, that doesn't mean there aren't those whose bill is in danger of coming past due. Hayes said he knows of as many as four other gay Olympic gold medalists. Pronger says one male figure skater told him 70 to 90 percent of male skaters are gay. Pronger also said he knows of one NBA player and ``a handful'' of NFL players who are gay. ``There are plenty of lesbians and gay people in baseball, from the commissioner's office to the minor leagues,'' said former National League umpire Dave Pallone, whose book _Behind the Mask_ detailed his claim that his homosexuality cost him his career. ``I know that there are enough to have an all-star team, a general manager and an umpire.'' ``There is a very famous hockey player that people in the NHL know is gay but nobody talks about it,'' Pronger said. ``It's a conspiracy of silence.'' The term ``conspiracy of silence'' is also used to explain the widespread reluctance to acknowledge the lesbian issue in the world of women's athletics. But the silence is different among the women. Within women's athletics, that issue is a constant topic. It plays a role in college recruiting, hiring, funding, transferring from one college to another, almost every aspect. But it exists in gossip and innuendo. It is not publicly debated. Within men's athletics, it is not discussed. The military establishment is more open and accepting of the subject than the men's athletic establishment. Soldiers can learn to live with the policy of ``Don't ask, don't tell, don't pursue.'' Among jocks it's: ``Don't even suggest that they might be here to be asked.'' When former Los Angeles Laker star Magic Johnson announced in the fall of 1991 that he had the AIDS virus, the reaction showed the sports world's inability to imagine that one of its heroes might have had a homosexual experience. Johnson stated unequivocally and often that he had contracted the virus through one of his hundreds upon hundreds of heterosexual contacts, and the nation cheered. He was greeted by standing ovations wherever he went. When others in the NBA announced the next season that they did not want him on the court for fear of his blood, another message was made very clear. Pro players will not chance playing with or against a person who might be a danger. AIDS apparently has pushed some gays farther in the closet. While the disease has increased discussion of homosexuality, it has also spread shock waves among athletes in contact sports, where open cuts are commonplace. The University Interscholastic League already has addressed the concern, adding a rule that any football player suffering an injury that draws blood must leave the field for treatment. Former Southwest Texas State running back Reggie Rivers, now with the Denver Broncos, said he attended an NFL workshop on HIV with other players. He said the NFL had actuaries compute the risk of contracting the disease during a game, and the odds were 1 in 85 million. ``The risk is basically not there, but there was a debate that went on between people for hours,'' Rivers said. ``People were concerned about how long the HIV virus could survive outside the body, what would happen if they went up against a guy with a cut. If I were a homosexual, given that, there's no way I'd ever tell anybody about it. ``It's just crazy. The chances of dying in a plane crash are 1 in 200,000. They're not afraid to go up in a plane, but they'll argue two hours about going on field with a homosexual player.'' Steinberg agreed that the fear of AIDS would casue pro athletes to refuse to play with or against a person they knew to be gay. ``I can't remember coming out of an NFL game where I didn't hurt something,'' Houston Oiler running back Spencer Tillman said. ``It's such a taboo, such a scary point. When we respond to things we don't understand, fear and rejection are first responses.'' Tillman, who said he has wondered if two NFL players were gay but only because of ``their mannerisms or who they associated with or didn't associate with,'' could foresee a scenario in which an NFL player comes out without losing his career. ``What needs to happen is for someone who is a marquee player to come out and do that, someone who is established and has proven they're good at what they do,'' he said. ``It would need to be a skill position where talent supersedes any cost. I don't know if it would be accepted; I think it would be tolerated.'' The tone of the comments by so many in men's athletics shows no acceptance or tolerance at all. ``Lesbians outnumber homos probably 10 to 1,'' said one Division I-A football recruiting coordinator. ``It's rampant in women's athletics. I don't think there are that many gays in football. They're weeded out. We don't recruit guys with sugar in their pants.'' A college baseball coach, asked if he had ever had a gay player on his team, revealed his personal opinion with a quick, ``God, I hope not!'' Such comments explain why gay players stay silent. ``We are not aware of one athlete in any of the team sports,'' said Steinberg, whose office represents about one-third of the quarterbacks in the NFL. ``Certainly none of our clients. *Never* does that issue ever come up. . .Athletes will talk about their illegal drug use, their love life, their extramarital affairs. . .but *never* is that subject raised.'' ``Can you imagine the ridicule a UT football player would get?'' said Alex Weeks, a former small college tennis player. ``I know gay men who have gone to gay bars and slept with UT football and baseball players. They've dated them.'' Texas' Cliff Gustafson, when asked if he has had any homosexual players on his teams in his 26 years as baseball coach, said, ``Not to my knowledge. I don't believe I have heard that.'' Dallas Cowboy scout Walter Juliff has spent eight years in the NFL evaluating talent, which in the current information-happy state of the NFL means information as possible on a prospect's *parents*. With the emphasis on team chemistry, a prospect's sexuality surely would come up in the research, although that particular question is never asked, Juliff said. ``I have never heard and to my knowledge it's never, ever been brought up in a (scouting) meeting,'' Juliff said. ``I'm 100 percent sure there aren't any on our team because you'd know about it.'' Keep quiet and you can stay in the ``good old boys network,'' is the apparent message to gay athletes. ``As long as gay men stay in the closet they can tap in and benefit from the same privileges that other men derive,'' said Don Sabo, a professor of social science at D'Youville College in Buffalo who has edited a book on gender and sports. ``Those privileges men derive are more plentiful than those afforded women. ... Look at the resources in sports. Men get the gold mine; women get the shaft. As long as you're in the closet, you're one of the guys, not one of the gays.'' Traditional sex roles have also reinforced the need for male athletes to be macho. It's no coincidence, say educators, that the male sports that emphasize grace and artistic value, such as individual sports like diving and skating, are the ones that have a gay label. Meanwhile, female sports that emphasize aggression and physical play, such as team sports like softball, field hockey and basketball, are seen as the lesbian sports. ``Homophobia is one of the straps in the straitjacket of masculinity,'' Sabo said. ``It keeps men from exploring new roles, different roles.'' Before Hayes even knew what a homosexual was, his attitudes were being shaped against them. If he didn't work hard in practice, if he made a mistake, he was called a ``fag'' by grade school coaches and teammates. If that bothered Hayes at the time, he didn't know it. ``It's very ingrained,'' Hayes said. ``At a young age it's OK to joke, make fun of gays. Like it's socially acceptable. It's not malicious, but it's just as insidious.'' Hayes just didn't know it applied to him. Through four years at Highland Park High School he seldom dated, using the time commitment of swimming as ``a very convenient excuse.'' ``I presented myself as very single-minded,'' Hayes said. At UCLA his true feelings began to surface. ``I knew I had to hide it,'' he said. ``I knew what my teammates would say. I knew I would never act on them. In my mind it was out of the question. I did my best to hide it.'' Hayes went along with the jokes, hit the fraternity parties and dated women. It was only after he held off West Germany's Michael Gross in the final leg of the 800-meter freestyle relay in the 1984 Olympics that he felt he could consider coming out. It was not a decision Hayes made easily. He imagined the worst case scenario: abandoned by his family and friends, jobless and penniless. ``I don't think it's cost me anything,'' Hayes said. ``It was the thought of what it might cost.'' Coming out and being public were two different things, but Hayes became competitor and a spokesman for Gay Games IV, which will be held next summer in New York City. ``I was not willing in life to pass things up because I was afraid,'' he said. ``So I competed, and the world did not come to an end.'' Pro bodybuilder Bob Paris came out through an article in _Ironman_, a bodybuilding magazine, which announced his Unitarian marriage to model Rod Jackson in July 1989. Although many in the bodybuilding community already knew of the former Mr. America and Mr. Universe's sexuality, his bookings for appearances in the United States dropped 75 percent. That has been more than compensated by his demand in Europe and the United States for anti-homophobia talks. Pronger said once the word is out, so are the fears. ``I am openly gay, and I get along well with the physical education department,'' Pronger said. ``A few people who are more closeted have had more problems. People, once they're over the initial shock, appreciate the honesty. There's much to be said for honesty.'' Those who decry homosexuals in sports enlist many of the same arguments used in they gays-in-the-military debate. Gays and straights in close quarters, they feel, make a combination that goes together like knees and artificial turf. Voyeurism in the locker room apparently is nothing new. Men, gay and straight, are always comparing their bodies to those of other men in the shower, suggested one of Pronger's interviewees. Of the 34 athletes and coaches Pronger interviewed, though, only one of the gay athletes said he did not see erotic potential in the locker room. Much is made of perceptions. Pronger taught one physical education course and devoted one of the 26 class hours to homophobia. On the end-of-term class evaluations, several students said that they didn't think 50 percent of the class time should have been spent on the homosexual lifestyle. ``They saw me and that's all they thought,'' he said. ``I only spoke about it once.'' Once is more than enough for many people. The _Washington Star_ series, which stated that three of the starting quarterbacks in the NFL in 1975 were gay, was widely criticized by officials throughout sports who claimed it was sensationalistic journalism designed to make a name for the reporter, Lynn Rosellini. In the _Dave Kopay Story_, Kopay and co-author Perry Deane Young illustrate what some of the attitudes were. A San Francisco columnist wrote: ``What makes the _Star_'s series so distressingly fraudulent is that it refuses to name names and deals in prurient sexual stereotype name (wowie!) the virile jock-as-faggot.'' And if there were *openly* gay players in the locker room? ``In our locker room. . .I can see our guys. The kidding (gay players) would take would be unbearable,'' Juliff said. Even without visible targets, the darts are still thrown. Bobby Bonilla of the New York Mets, angry about a book ripping the team, called one of the authors a ``fag'' in a heated clubhouse confrontation in April. At a June rally for the Chicago Bulls' third NBA title, two comedians sang a song glorifying the team that referred to the Cleveland franchise as the ``Cava-queers.'' Colorado Coach Bill McCartney has become an outspoken opponent of anti-discrimination legislation --- and a target of gay rights groups in Colorado --- by proclaiming that ``homosexuality is an abomination and a sin against God.'' Kopay said he knew of hypocritical players who would deride gays during a time they were taking money from ``queens'' to perfrom oral sex on the players. ``The biggest fag-haters are the ones most confused about their own sexuality,'' Kopay said. ``I can't overstate that.'' Kopay, Pallone, and Hayes all try to envision a day when whether an athlete is gay or straight will create as much of stir as whether he bats right-handed or left-handed. What it will take, they agree, is education. Jackson-Paris frequents the talk-show circuit and with his partner has produced a video, _Be True To Yourself_, which is designed to help teen-agers deal with homosexuality. Pallone tours the country giving lectures and is working on a new book of profiles of gay and lesbian role models. Pallone wishes the pro leagues would get more involved in charity work for AIDS. ``Can you imagine if major-league baseball did that?'' he said. ``That would do so much.'' What's also needed, they say, is for more athletes to come out. If more will, they feel, things will get better --- but things won't get better unless more do. ``They'll still be able to catch a baseball, throw a football, shoot a hockey puck,'' Pallone said. ``One thing I've learned is that fans cheer a winner. It doesn't matter what their color, religion or sexuality is.'' ``Nobody will ever tell me that if a guy hits a game-winning home run in the bottom of the ninth, people won't cheer.'' It's not the cheers that gay athletes are expecting, but jeers. Asked why there have been no more openly gay athletes in the last 18 years, Kopay offers a variety of reasons, ranging from lost revenue to isolation to the machismo associated with sports. Finally he says, ``I'm not really sure.'' ``When I was in the closet, I'm sure I felt a lot different,'' said Kopay, now a sales manager for a floor covering dealer in Los Angeles. ``Now, though, it's, `What the hell's the matter with you?' One of an athlete's top attributes is supposed to be courage. Where's their courage?''