Gay Sports Blog: Wishbone #9: Closets are for Coats, Not People

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 emerged from Trish Gillespie’s office and walked up to the microphone bank that was set up in front of the office doors. Flanking Casey, on both sides, were, Petrius and Annie Jackson, Trish Gillespie, Ginny Simmons, and Tuli Alapualo, a retired defensive lineman from the Chicago Bears and openly gay (after retirement) father of three.

On the other side of the microphone bank were six television cameras and dozens of reports, ranging from ESPN to local and national news shows.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming to this press conference on such short notice. My name is Casey Thompson, and I am the quarterback for the California Condors in the National Football League, and I am a gay American.

I have been denying this fact too long, and this has hurt me and hurt my team. I have been living in fear and confusion too long, and I will no longer do that. I want to be who I am, be judged by who I am and what I do, as a man, as a football player. I want to play football and win. I want to take the Condors to the Super Bowl and win.

My name is Casey Thompson, quarterback, California Condors, and I am gay. Thank you.”

With the cameras buzzing and flashbulbs exploding, reporters began screaming out their questions. Casey pointed to James Myers from the L.A. Star-Times for recognition.

“Casey, do you expect your teammates to welcome you and your decision to announce that you are gay?”

Casey stepped back to the microphone. “I expect my teammates to judge me based on my performance. I have a lot of friends on the team, and I hope that does not change.”

James Myers followed up: “Petrius, you are a teammate and friend of Casey’s. How do you think things will work out with the rest of the team?”

Petrius, holding hands with his wife, Annie, walked up to the microphone. “Casey is my friend – our friend. That will not change. Casey is my quarterback. That will not change. That’s how I expect others to see things as well.”

At this point, Trish Gillespie, who had been standing behind Casey, walked up to the microphone. “Thanks, everyone, for coming. We are going to end this press conference now. Casey has to get over to the Condors and practice, there’s a big game this Sunday against the Broncos. Thank you, everyone.”

As the group headed back into the office suite, the press corps continued shouting out questions. “I’m sweating” Casey said, laughing. “That was a lot worse than a blitz.”

Tuli walked up to Casey. “That took a lot of courage, Casey! A hell of a lot more than I had when I was playing. Thank you, Casey, and thanks for having Trish contact me for this. Please give me a call if you need anything. I am more than happy to help.”

“Thanks, Tuli, I really mean it. I’ll be in contact with you for sure. Thanks, man!” Casey and Tuli gave each other a hug, and Tuli headed out the backdoor of the offices.

The rest of the group shared thanks and jokes, and soon disbanded, following Tuli out the back of the office suites. Casey turned to Trish. “Tirsh, thank you.”

“No, Wishbone, thank you. Now let’s get you over to the Condors and get you ready for Sunday’s game. Gonna be a hell of a game! I hope you don’t mind a couple of hundred million people turning their TVs on to watch you fuck up!” Trish laughed, and Casey laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll be setting gay rights back a decade for every interception I throw.”

Casey and Trish headed down the elevator to the office’s parking garage and got into Trish’s car. As they drove towards the Condors practice facilities, Casey’s phone rang. It was Casey’s uncle Jimmy.

“Hello, Casey? It’s me, uncle Jimmy. Are you all right?

“Yes, Jimmy, doing just fine now.”

“Casey, son, I am so proud of you, I can’t even begin to tell you. Your aunt Martha would be just bursting if she were here, and so would your parents. I am so proud of you, Casey.”

“Thanks, uncle Jimmy. And thanks for the notes you sent me. You’ll never know what they meant to me.”

“Listen, son, I have to go. Just one more thing: don’t screw up Sunday. I hate the Broncos!”

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.