As a queer sports fan, the past few weeks have been incredible. I mean “queer sports fan” in both senses, by the way. I am queer, and I am a sports fan. I am also a fan of queer sports. Never in my 40 years of lesbian living on this Earth have I ever witnessed a more “queer sports” event than the Women’s World Cup (and I’ve played back yard cricket surrounded by butch lesbians in jorts).
Along with queer fans whipped into an absolute frenzy – and straight women on TikTok proclaiming to have been turned bisexual watching – this World Cup also had huge queer player representation. According to Outsports, at least 13% of athletes who attended the WC were out, along with three head coaches. The Matildas were dubbed one of the queerest teams of the tournament, with nine first team and three reserve openly queer players. A single tear is rolling down my face as I salute a portrait of Sam Kerr.
Mens sport should really get on our level. Imagine watching an NRL game and there’s exes on opposing teams and they hate each other, or maybe two players are dating and will have a little kiss after the game. Why wouldn’t you want that you freaks
— Bec Shaw (@Brocklesnitch) August 9, 2023
As someone who has voluntarily watched a lot of men’s sport as well, the vibe of the World Cup was unmatched. This was for various reasons, but part of it was the effect of having an environment so completely accepting of queerness. For one, I never once felt in danger of hearing a gay slur be shouted in a crowd. It was a lovely reality to live in for a while, one where we allow athletes to be themselves and everyone is normal about it.
Unfortunately we all came crashing back down to Earth this week with the end of the World Cup, the mass exodus of lesbians from our shores, and the release of a Four Corners investigation into the fact there has never been an openly queer player in the AFL. The difference in vibe was stark, and shocking. I’m not going to get bogged down in the details, but during the report, ex-AFL player and now real estate agent Jason Akermanis said this about the situation: “Look, I personally don’t care one way or the other. As long as you don’t sort of throw it in my face or tell me where I’m not interested. I don’t go around telling people what I do in my private life.”
First of all, Jason, if you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t be asking gay people not to talk to you about their lives. If people really didn’t care, the AFL would be an environment where players felt OK to come out. But Akermanis summed up a bit of what I have been seeing in comment sections. Who cares? Maybe the players are just private! Maybe they don’t want to talk about their sexuality at work?
Let’s get something clear: being closeted is not the same as being private. It is not normal for people to have to hide their relationships. It is not fair that queer athletes in this situation have to decide to remain closeted, or be secretive or, alternatively, put themselves into the spotlight where they inevitably become a target of the culture wars and cop huge amounts of homophobia. This is not a situation put on their shoulders by the queer community. Look what happens when queer people get to have what we want, how we want it! We have a fun, wholesome, beautiful tournament where our team is majority queer and nobody gives a shit, and they just play sport and we all support them.
Half the AFLW’s captains are openly gay, and a lot of the players too. Sam Kerr is the most famous person in Australia right now, and she is a queer woman of colour. Take away all of the defensive arguments and the silence and the deflection around this issue, and all you have left is obvious, pervasive homophobia. There is no reasoning it away when it is so clear that the expectation to keep personal lives private does not apply to heterosexual players. This entire thing makes me angry of course, but it mostly makes me really sad. The last month has shown us the flow-on effects of true acceptance and celebration of diversity at a professional level: the young kids of all genders excitedly supporting women without a second thought, the straight men newly and loudly cheering on women, and the little girls who now see different futures for themselves.
Imagine the effects if men’s sports could get there too. Besides making a more welcoming and open environment for everyone to enjoy sport, it would have a direct impact on the lives of young queer men around the country. How many young kids have given up on following that path because they see it as an environment that isn’t for them?
I love sports of all kinds – even men’s – and know how important it can be. Look at what we just saw the Matildas do. There are no more excuses. We’ve shown we have the capacity and the ability to grow as a country, as sports fans and players. Homophobia in sport hurts everyone and keeps us from achieving what we could have. It’s time to grow up and let boys kiss.
Rebecca Shaw is a writer based in Sydney
