A PIGHEADED SPORTS WORLD ISN’T READY FOR NASSIB, HAMMON
We keep hoping that barriers will fall in sports, but the NFL’s first openly gay player will face homophobic abuse while the NBA has yet to appoint its first female head coach as anticipated
The slur spans six letters, comprises two syllables and happens to rhyme with maggot. And it will be with us, repulsively, until every dark corner of 21st-century society purges it from everyday-speak. This is the hatred that cancel culture should attack — eliminating ‘‘faggot’’ from streets, message boards and bigoted households — but if we project with pragmatism and not blind hope, any mission for massive change will require decades.
Meaning, the slur will be weaponized against Carl Nassib in the machismo culture of the NFL, as it will against other athletes who bravely come out as gay in the socially intractable world of men’s professional sports. Nassib will hear it inside the gnarly trenches when, as a defensive end for the Las Vegas Raiders, he tries to bullrush and sack a quarterback. He’ll hear it whispered among teammates when he’s showering and dressing in a locker room. He’ll hear it from opposing fans and maybe some in his home stadium, and he’ll read it online from bullies best avoided.
All of which makes him a courageous human being whose journey will be recorded in history, long after many of the game’s stars are forgotten. Yet no matter how commissioner Roger Goodell and some of the league’s elite players try to normalize and even romanticize Nassib’s narrative, the raw truth is this: He instantly becomes a target unlike any the sport has known. We’ve seen athletes in all leagues come out as gay after careers. We’ve seen Michael Sam do so on NFL Draft night, even kissing his boyfriend on live TV, yet he never played in a regular-season game and retired a year later. Jason Collins did so before the final season of a marginal NBA career. Soccer players have come out amid careers in MLS, a niche league. In women’s sports, U.S. soccer hero Megan Rapinoe is admired for her public sexuality embrace, featured on commercials with her partner, WNBA star Sue Bird.
But to be openly gay smack in the middle of one’s NFL prime, for a high-profile franchise paying him $25.2 million in a deal not expiring for two years — that’s new and harrowing territory for Nassib, who said he ‘‘agonized’’ about the decision throughout his adult life. He tried to keep his statement low-key, using an Instagram video feed to say, ‘‘I just wanted to take a quick moment to say that I’m gay. I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now, but I finally feel comfortable enough to get it off my chest. I really have the best life. I got the best family, friends and job a guy can ask for. I’m a pretty private person, so I hope you guys know that I’m really not doing this for attention. I just think that representation and visibility are so important.”
With every word, another homophobe was sharpening a knife.
So let’s stop trying to whitewash and soften what’s about to happen. Anti-gay slurs remain commonplace at the highest levels of sports, whether it’s Kevin Durant shooting an angry direct message at Michael Rapaport or Justin Thomas fuming after a missed putt. Prominent broadcaster Thom Brennaman lost his career. The late Kobe Bryant, more revered posthumously than while he was alive, once was fined $100,000 for firing an anti-gay slur at a referee, prompting Steve Kerr, then a TNT game analyst, to say on the broadcast, ‘‘You might want take the cameras off of him right now, for the children watching from home.’’ Receiver DeSean Jackson, who referred to a radio-show listener as a ‘‘gay-ass faggot,’’ plays for the Los Angeles Rams; in a few weeks, the Rams host the Raiders in a preseason game. Will Nassib and Jackson be on the field at the same time?
It’s delusional to think attitudes have changed so markedly, in a matter of years or months, that Nassib suddenly will be accepted by his peers and the masses. His announcement represents another incremental step in the end game, an opportunity for advocacy and discussion. Five years ago, Nassib’s jersey wouldn’t be the NFL’s highest-seller as it was one day last week, and chances are, a legend of J.J. Watt’s caliber wouldn’t have tweeted, ‘‘Good for you Carl. Glad you feel comfortable enough to share and hopefully someday these types of announcements will no longer be considered breaking news.”
But breaking news, it is. Until major active athletes crash the barrier with similar declarations, progress will be minimal. And a gay superstar in the NFL, NBA and Major League Baseball isn’t coming out, in all likelihood, until he’s assured that endorsement opportunities wouldn’t dry up — and in 2021, they would. Like Watt, Goodell tried to paint the most encouraging picture, saying in a statement, ‘‘The NFL family is proud of Carl for courageously sharing his truth today. Representation matters. We share his hope that someday soon statements like his will no longer be newsworthy as we march toward full equality for the LGBTQ+ community. We wish Carl the best of luck this coming season.” Great. What is Goodell going to say the first time a live mic picks up a slur directed at Nassib?
And it will happen. It will because the NFL, like other male-based leagues, is filled with enough of the same ignorance that kept gay players closeted in the past. Former NFL linebacker Roy Simmons was among those who waited until after his career to come out, once explaining, ``The NFL has a reputation, and it’s not even a verbal thing — it’s just known. You are gladiators. You are male. You kick butt.’’ Decades later, the same homophobia will be unspoken … until it isn’t.
While change is afloat in some sectors, the biggest sports leagues remain driven by traditional masculinity. Are you, like me, starting to wonder about Becky Hammon — and if she’s merely receiving token interviews from NBA teams not ready to make her the first female head coach in the four major North American sports? Blessed by mentor Gregg Popovich as more than ready for the challenge, Hammon was interviewed twice by the Portland Trail Blazers — who gave the gig to Chauncey Billups, a league assistant for just one season, because of his supposed close ties with Blazers superstar Damian Lillard. This came after team owner Jody Allen said she endorsed Hammon, wanting the franchise to truly blaze trails. The drama grew complicated after some Portlanders balked that Billups was accused of sexual assault — though not charged — in 1997. After a franchise probe, he was cleared for the offer, prompting more protests that a female candidate was spurned for a bad guy.
Hammon was said to be on the short list of the Boston Celtics, whose new basketball boss, Brad Stevens, was urged in a billboard near the team facility to hire Hammon or Duke women’s coach Kara Lawson as his replacement as head coach. ‘‘Hey Brad, it’s time to shake it up,’’ it read. ‘‘Hire Kara or Becky.’’
Stevens wasn’t ready, instead hiring Brooklyn Nets assistant Ime Udoka. The Indiana Pacers, also said to be interested, hired the accomplished Rick Carlisle. The Dallas Mavericks replaced Carlisle with Jason Kidd, who has a relationship in the organization with owner Mark Cuban and former teammate Dirk Nowitzki, who is tight with franchise cornerstone Luka Doncic. That leaves the New Orleans Pelicans, who are being domineered by the whims of budding superstar Zion Williamson and his family. If front-office boss David Griffin wants to keep his job, after dumping Stan Van Gundy and Alvin Gentry in a year’s span, he’d better get this one right — and a Zion-blessed candidate such as Nets assistant Jacque Vaughn is a safer play than Hammon or Pels assistant Teresa Weatherspoon. The Washington Wizards are eyeing another longtime league assistant, Sam Cassell.
The seventh and final chance is in Orlando, where the Magic interviewed Hammon. But the team brass is said to prefer a candidate with previous head-coaching experience, such as Kenny Atkinson or Terry Stotts. Or a franchise hero such as Penny Hardaway, who might be ready to flee the college ranks. If Hammon is shut out there, she becomes the latest woman in sports to enter the annual spin cycle — rumors, interviews, rejections. At which point we’ll hear outcry from Popovich, who is coaching the U.S. Olympic men’s team as he winds down his career in San Antonio.
‘‘She’s somebody who’s very skilled and could easily fulfill the duties of a head coach in the NBA,’’ he said. ‘‘There are women in every other endeavor in the world whether it’s government, science, technology, aviation, it doesn’t matter what it is. Women do the same jobs as well and better than men. And that’s a fact. There’s no reason why somebody like Becky and other women can’t be coaches in the NBA.’’
In a way, Hammon already has shattered the ceiling. When Popovich was ejected in a game last December, she took over the sideline reins. ‘‘We didn't hire Becky to make history,’’ he said. ‘‘She earned it. She is qualified. She's wonderful at what she does. I wanted her on my staff because of the work that she does. And she happens to be a woman, which basically should be irrelevant, but it's not in our world."
But unless the Magic surprise us, it could be Hammon’s best shot is in San Antonio, where Spurs legend Tim Duncan stepped away from a coaching role as a possible Popovich replacement. If she doesn’t inherit Popovich’s position in a season or two, how long might her wait be? Appearing on the NBC show ‘‘Inspiring America: The 2021 Inspiration List,’’ she seemed prepared for rejection.
‘‘I mean, this ball is never moving fast enough, in my opinion," Hammon said. ‘‘People don't like doing something new and different. It's uncomfortable. It takes a massive amount of risk. Somebody's going to have to take a chance. In some ways, I feel like it could be in a year. In other ways, it could be 10 years. I'm not really sure. What I'm sure of is, I'll be ready."
At some point, a woman will guide an NBA sideline, just as Kim Ng emerged with baseball’s Miami Marlins as the first female general manager in American sports. But a man’s world takes its good old damned time in moving the social earth — continuing, for instance, to employ Ozzie Guillen as a Chicago White Sox studio analyst years after he referred to me as a ‘‘(bleeping) fag’’ when he managed the ballclub.
I am not gay. Still, I was placed in an unwanted hot seat — interviewed by Tucker Carlson, discussed by Bill O’Reilly — in what grew into a national media blast. When I was compelled to tell stories about Guillen’s raunchy clubhouse behavior, a Chicago Sun-Times editor named John Barron — who earlier pulled my column about how White Sox fans had harassed the wives of Houston Astros players during a World Series game (and since has joined his brother’s ministry) — told me I was ‘‘embarrassing’’ myself. I’d hear chants of ‘‘Fag!’’ sometimes when out and about in Chicago, as I did in Miami months later when Bears fans descended for a Super Bowl loss. What was I supposed to do, shout that I was the heterosexual father of two daughters? Wouldn’t that offend some people? And why was the Sun-Times participating in Sox crisis-control by interviewing a gay hairdresser who defended Guillen? I’d say all of these people were ‘‘embarrassing’’ themselves as I watched their dysfunctional wheels spin.
If a simple sports columnist was made to feel that uncomfortable and startled, I only can wonder how Carl Nassib will feel next month, when he reports to work for a football season that might resemble hell. I hope I’m wrong. I’m afraid I’ll be right.
Jay Mariotti, called ‘‘the most impacting Chicago sportswriter of the past quarter-century,’’ writes sports columns for Substack and a Wednesday media column for Barrett Sports Media while appearing on some of the 1,678,498 podcasts in production today. He’s an accomplished columnist, TV panelist and radio talk host. Living in Los Angeles, he gravitated by osmosis to film projects. Compensation for this column is donated to the Chicago Sun-Times Charity Trust.