Keeping Score
I was raised by a distant father. To this day, I don’t really know how he felt about my brother or me. I suspect he was disappointed in us. Sometimes, I think he even secretly feared we might both be gay.
Part of his suspicion, I’m sure, was caused by our lack of interest in sports. Personally, I never understood the allure. It all seemed so pointless. Nothing was being created, there was no plot or story, and I found the aggression that usually accompanied male athleticism terrifying. I was an introspective, sensitive, creative, shy kid who idolized TV characters like John Steed (played by Patrick Macnee) from The Avengers (1961–1969). I liked him because he was respectful, poised, witty, intelligent, self-effacing, and honorable — precisely the kind of person I wanted to be.
John Steed may have presented another type of masculinity (i.e. a “gentleman”), but here in the United States, sports served as a kind of litmus test of manhood, and it often still does today. How well one demonstrates athleticism and aggression on the field determines whether he is a “real man.” Olympic gold medalist Caitlyn Jenner (formerly Bruce Jenner) affirmed this connection when she explained, “I got into sports because that was a way to prove your masculinity, [and] I was good at it.” Yet, as someone who did not excel at sports, I found this notion troubling.
My aversion to anything athletic was exacerbated in high school when sports and bullies became irrevocably linked in my mind. Sports meant disrobing in a locker room, exposing my physical limitations to ridicule, being publicly shamed for losing, etc. In response, my disdain for sports grew, and I even began to openly reject the idea of conforming to mainstream definitions of masculinity altogether.
Part of what I had grown to dislike about this shallow masculinity was that it was often defined not by what it was, but by what it was not. Men were never supposed to cry, apologize, back down, ask for help, or show weakness. Neither did they decorate homes, show affection, say they love their children, or cook (unless it involves an animal carcass thrown over a grill). Cooperative, considerate, polite? Nope. And the list goes on.
All those who, like myself, did not fit into this mold were considered neither “real” men nor masculine. Instead, we were labeled “fags” — never mind the fact that not everyone who received said label was gay or bi. It was simply a term indiscriminately applied to young men deemed insufficiently manly.
I could have done what some of my friends did: escape their otherness and isolation by wearing a disguise. Perhaps if I had joined them in their charade, I could have avoided some of the humiliation and loneliness. But I didn’t, maybe because my anger toward the bullies made me loathe the very thought of becoming more like them. So instead, I developed a sense of myself based on being contrary to whatever I felt was popularly considered masculine. Sports were a particular focus.
I wish I could say this attitude changed with age, but in truth, it hasn’t. I still don’t have any interest in sports, and I doubt I ever will. In fact, when Queer Majority announced this issue, my initial reaction to the topic was one of indifference, followed by an aversion verging on outright anger.
That I still feel such strong emotions on the subject speaks to the enduring connection between sports and masculinity in American culture. Thankfully, over time, many aspects of this relationship have begun to change. Since my teenage years, sports have become more inclusive, not only for women and people with disabilities but for LGBT athletes as well. This trend, while far from perfect, has made athletic spaces more welcoming for everyone — including straight men like myself, who are not particularly athletic or aggressive.
More recently, programs like the Inside Out Initiative, which was started by retired NFL player Joe Ehrmann, have emerged to “transform the current ‘win-at-all-costs’ sports culture […] into one that defines and promotes [it] as a human growth experience.” The Positive Coaching Alliance is another organization working to reshape sports culture in this manner, with the aim of creating a more constructive experience for kids.
The larger conversation about masculinity has been changing too. Society has begun to consider the unproductiveness of some behaviors historically associated with being “manly.” In the sports world, this change in thinking is most striking in the rise of discussions surrounding abusive behavior and the increased visibility of LGBT players.
I consider these all to be indications of progress. We should keep striving to reexamine and reinvent the idea of organized athletics so that sports can become even more inclusive and positive. Sports should be for everyone. Perhaps someday we might even move beyond crude gender stereotypes and arrive at a place where who we are is not determined by anyone but ourselves — and certainly not by whether we are good at hitting a ball with a stick.
Published Jul 1, 2020
Updated Jan 5, 2023
Published in Issue VII: Sports
