Gay Sports Blog: Wishbone #6: A Long Trip Home, Part 2

Follow Casey Thompson, star quarterback for the Los Angeles Condors, as he struggles to come out of the closet and win - both on and off the field of play.

Casey Thompson’s plane back from Wisconsin got in to L.A. late, yet Trish Gillespie was still waiting for him at the gate.

“I can’t believe you are here at the gate, Trish. It’s like having a wife.”

“Lately, Wishbone, I been feeling more like your mom. I have a car outside waiting. Let’s get you home and then over to the Condors for late practice.”

“Yeah, that should be a riot. That shit is over, starting today. I’m getting my starting position back, period.”

As the pair drove back down the L.A. freeways to Casey’s home, Trish reached into her briefcase and pulled out a couple of newspapers. “Take a look at the top one – from Atlanta. It’s one of Elston’s papers, and, like he said, there’s an article in the sports section about the criminal and all-around nefarious background of the asshole you decked in the bar. I’ll say one thing for that dick Elston – he means what he says.”

As Casey looked through the sports section, Trish opened up another paper – one from Boston. “Casey, take a look at this one. Specifically, take a look at the column by Ginny Simons. Are you familiar with her?”

Casey thumbed through the Boston paper. “Not really. I know she writes a national column on sports. Why?”

Trish took the paper out of Casey’s hands so that she had his full attention. “I know Ginny pretty well. I’ve come to know her over the last year or so, through some clients. She used to run track at Tennessee – she was unbelievably fast. Blew her knee out, and missed the Olympics. She’s also a hell of a writer. I want you to do an interview with her, just on background. Nothing for print right now, but if this criminal case gets any hotter, which it will, I want to start having some of our own sources in the media.”

The car pulled up in front of the apartment building where Casey lived. “Sounds like a plan, Trish. Set it up.”

“Sure will. Oh - one more thing, Wishbone. Ginny is a lesbian. See ya!” As she said that, Trish shut the car door, tapped on the back of the driver’s seat and the car pulled away.
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After practice on Thursday, Casey headed out of the locker room to meet with Petrius in the team lounge. Casey had asked Petrius to keep an eye on his play and to give him critical feedback.

“How do you see the week so far, Petrius?” Casey and Petrius were sitting around a small table, with a few others in the lounge sitting a distance away.

“Well, your arm is looking stronger than it’s looked in a while, Wishbone. You were hitting those outs really, really well, even the long outs.”

“Yeah, you know, I feel stronger than I have felt lately. I mean, arm-wise.”

Petrius talked some more, and then leaned into the table, closer to Casey. “Yeah, there was a lot of good stuff there so far this week. But, you know, you still are zeroing in on one receiver, and you still aren’t going through your progressions, and how many times did Coach Ocasek have to stop practice to talk you through blitz packages?”

“I’m not picking up the blitz packages, but that just comes with a little more work.”

The two continued to talk, and as they did, Coach Ocasek came up to the table. “Casey. I want you to come on into the film room as soon as you and Petrius are done talking. I want to go over films of some stuff with you. OK? Meet me in the film room when you are done.” Coach Ocasek headed back towards the film room and Casey began to gather his papers to follow him.

“Man, you don’t see second string QBs getting film review with Offensive Coordinators on any other team, boy! I guess you should be happy about that.”

“Happy, Petey? I’m amazed…”
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Thursday night was the last night before the Condors left town to go to Atlanta for a game against the Falcons on Sunday. It had been a long, long week, beginning with a trip home to bury his aunt Martha, and ending now, tonight, with Casey waiting to travel to Atlanta and ride the bench, watching Tommy Tidwell play QB instead of him.

Casey paced around the apartment for what seemed like hours. He turned on the TV, nothing to watch, other than news about the NFL, news he didn’t want to think about. He flipped around, nothing else on. He played some music, and drank some beers. Still, at 2 a.m., he was wide-awake.

With nothing to do, and no chance to sleep, Casey picked up the phone and dialed. As it rang, he sat back in his chair and took a long, deep drink off of his beer.

“Hey, Greg. Casey. Did I wake you man?”

“No, no, I’m awake. It’s like 2 in the morning, Casey. Why aren’t you in bed? Aren’t you leaving in the morning for Dallas?”

“No, for Atlanta. We got Dallas next week.”

“Yeah, right. I got the schedule confused. So, why are you calling, Casey?”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, and I kind of feeling like talking football.”

“How are you handling the bench? How’s practice going?”

The two talked for 45 minutes about football, and, as Greg started to yawn and prepare to hang up, Casey made a sudden change of topic.

“Greg. I’m sorry I yelled at you at my aunt and uncle’s earlier this week. I get what you were saying, you know, about being, you know, ‘out’. I get it.”

“Look, Wishbone, I really shouldn’t have said anything in the middle of Martha’s funeral. I am sorry. And, you know, you are right. I really don’t understand the pressures on you around all this.”

“Greg, can you tell me something?

“Yeah, Casey. What”

Casey began to cry. “Greg, can you tell me how you do it? How are you gay and let people know? I mean, do you go to bars, do people at work know, does your family know? How do you do this gay thing, Greg? Because I would really like to know…”

To be continued...

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A Cubs and Northwestern fan, Joe Moag is a major sports junkie, and although he still runs, he hasn't been able to dunk anything more than a donut for decades.