I’m not a sports person. The memories I have of sports come from the sweaty moments outside during middle school, straining to kick a soccer ball in the right direction or to actually catch a lacrosse ball. Something about the sweaty pads and human contact unleashed a vicious tendency in some of the most aggressive and, incidentally, best players.

One person in particular, named Nick, would often kick me or simply slap me with his lacrosse stick while we were undressing in the locker room. Standing there naked, he’d pitch the ball at my legs, making me dodge frantically, while he periodically called me a “faggot.” This was my experience with sports—Nick trying to prove he was more manly than me (one of the weakest and most clumsy kids there), which I was more than happy to accept.

In light of all this, I became intrigued by John Amaechi. I had no idea who he was until his name suddenly started appearing in the news a few months ago. The fact that he was a former NBA player, frankly, didn’t matter to me. He is known for scoring the first points of the new millennium in January 2000, and for turning down a lucrative $17 million contract with the LA Lakers to stay with the Orlando Magic. As Amaechi admits, he was never the best or most famous player. What interested me was the fact that he had come out as a gay man. Not just come out, but come out in the sports world—the environment of sweaty locker rooms and aggressive chest-thumping I knew from middle school.

Amaechi Confronts Homophobia

When John Ameachi’s memoir, Man in the Middle, was published in February 2007, he touched a nerve in American culture by discussing his life as a gay man in the NBA. Vicious attacks and heartfelt support suddenly exploded into the national media. Tim Hardaway, who is also a former NBA player, furiously told an interviewer that he “hate[s] gay people.” I fully expected a controversial reply to John Amaechi’s coming out. But Hardaway’s anti-gay statement took me totally by surprise.


What makes homophobia so prevalent? The sports world may be an extreme example, but discrimination against gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people snakes its way into most aspects of our everyday life. In talking about the sports world, Amaechi says “In some ways it is the cream of the crop, in others it’s the very dregs.” A moment later he added with a laugh, “and it’s all there for our entertainment.”

Homophobia, Not Just in Sports

Amaechi’s memoir has brought national attention to the issue of homophobia, which he admits should have been addressed a long time ago. Amaechi is an official spokesperson for the Human Rights Campaign’s Coming Out Project, a program designed to help gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people come out and live openly. By sharing his story, he wants to encourage conversation about gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender equality.

Amaechi spoke at The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Community Center in New York City, and I was lucky enough to be there. “People need a lightning rod to get the message across sometimes,” he told the crowd of gay rights activists. “I’m getting ninety percent of the praise for ninety percent of the work that you all have done.”

“When people are talking to me,” he told me later, “a lot of what they are saying is thanking all the other faceless people, all the activists who have been working alongside me. Frankly,” he added with a laugh, “it’s a cool role to have.”

Guys—Desperate to Be Straight and Normal

We’ve all heard from health teachers and youth-group workers that we shouldn’t say “that’s so gay,” but, no matter what, it remains a part of our vocabulary. A guy who uses the words “faggot” and “queer” gets to feel better than the person he’s trying to isolate and humiliate. Nick, suddenly, seems less menacing and more pathetic to me. He’s a boy who’s desperately trying to seem like a “man”—a straight man—by attacking me. When I understand this, it helps me be more forgiving, but also more insistent on speaking out against homophobia, which is so unhealthy and destructive.

As a final note, Amaechi wants people to “understand that for each person, coming out is a personal journey. I would only advise them [people coming out] to try to find one person [with whom] they can share their burden, their thoughts, their experiences. It may be a parent, a friend, a coach, a teammate. Remember, coming out is a personal journey.”

One friend or supportive voice can help in the face of all the negative, homophobic talk you hear, even in a sweaty boys’ locker room.