This past week I attended Stan and Joe’s enormously fun, rowdy, oft-frustrating (Tom Brady, Sr.? Get the fuck out) sports trivia night and had the unfortunate experience of having some douche at the bar call me a faggot. This hasn’t happened in earnest since I was in high school. After a little bit of jawing (I can talk shit with the best of ’em) he said something to the effect of “You don’t belong in here,” which basically pissed me off. I finished the final round (my team won, apparently, though I contributed almost nothing) before angrily storming off.
It wasn’t so much the “faggot” talk–I’ve been called that before and worse, and yes it’s unpleasant but at this point in my life I’m more incredulous at it than mad–but rather the parting “You don’t belong in here.” What did that “here” mean? The bar? The trivia night? Amongst sports fans? It’s no surprise that the world of sports attracts your fair share of lunkheaded archaic boorish machismo bullshit, and sure I don’t really know that many gay sports fans (I don’t know that many gays to begin with, but that’s a whole other issue), but there’s no rule of exclusivity. There’s room to watch baseball and not spout homophobic rhetoric. It doesn’t take a genius to figure this out. Mr. “You don’t belong here” was quite possibly not a genius.
So basically, here’s my response. A sports blog. What the hell. In many ways, being a sports fan who happens to kiss boys now and then (mostly then, guh) is kind of perfect. Not only can I cheer on the astonishing prowess of my favorite athletes and teams, but I am also able to heartily ogle and objectify their various physical attributes. I’d say that’s a win-win. I’ll take a “faggot” here and there if I have to.
I mean, HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOO: