In the deep
dark corners of the internet, the ugly face of ignorance shines out over what can be both the best and worst place on Earth. Never have I seen such hate and
anger expressed in a pure form. But just when I thought that pixels on a screen
weren’t the end of the matter, I felt the brunt of it on a football pitch.
Yesterday
marked the start of LGBT History Month. Blinded fools took to their keyboards
to shout back at the world.
I thought
we’d moved past this as humans. I thought people could be accepted regardless
of belief, or race, or origin. I was wrong.
A movement
in football to try and combat the ongoing abuse is through wearing rainbow
laces.
As someone
who’s been deeply affected by discrimination myself, as someone whose closest
friends are gay, I wanted to show my support to the LGBT community. Football
(and life for that matter) is about acceptance.
What
occurred last night was anything but.
I play
six-a-side with my course-mates at university. Team100, the world’s most unfit
footballing outfit (except maybe Derby County 2007-08).
Do we have
the best individuals? No. Do we play the best as a team? Not even that. But we
have desire, heart and every other intangible under the sun you need to play
small-sided football in abundance, and that’s all that matters to us.
We had a
game against one of the best teams to ever come up against us; they thrashed us
6-2 last season and are better in every area possible. We took to the slick
surface of the Langstone astro-turf looking to cause an upset, and I hoped to
do my LGBT brothers and sisters proud.
Part of me
wishes I never set foot on that artificial pitch.
The rain
was lashing down and the off-shore winds made it a cagey encounter, one where
you’d avoid contact with others just to make sure you were both able to walk
back to the taxi pick-up point afterwards. Indeed, it was a match with few
collisions. Well, for my friends at least.
I received
a series of needlessly strong challenges. At first I thought this was just
another game; I usually put myself into 50/50s in spite of my small stature.
But the challenges grew in aggression, and I quickly figured out what was going
on – it was the laces.
The rainbow
pattern is so vibrant that you could probably see me from a mile away. That’s
the point, but it made me public enemy number one with the opposition.
I tried to
pick myself up and dust myself off after the first few fouls, but one stood out
and made me notice what was transpiring. Midway through the first half, I was
attempting to shield the ball out for a throw in. One of their players came up
behind me and starting biting away at the back of my shins and ankles with his
boots despite the lack of urgency to steal the ball from me at this point. I
went over and would eventually sub myself off as it was that painful, but not
before I heard their player mutter “fucking fag” in my direction.
What could
I do? In hindsight I should have told the referee, but I wanted to let our
football do the talking first. We had them on the ropes and we were playing out
of our skins. “Just tell him at the end” I thought to myself.
By that
point I had been thrown to the floor more times than I care to remember. I just
wanted to go home.
I could
feel aches and pains in every part of my body, nothing was left untouched by
their boots or the crisp turf that broke my fall time after time. As painlessly
as I could, I removed my trademark Tottenham shirt and accompanying under-layer
in front of my mirror.
They were
everywhere. Cuts, bruises, grazes. Everywhere. I couldn’t hold it in. Those
closest to me will know of my other struggles, and this sent me over the edge.
I couldn’t look at myself for much longer and I rolled into bed as quickly as
my pain tolerance would allow me. I didn’t head to my lectures today, I wasn’t
in the right state of mind. If my lecturers are reading this, I’m sorry.
The pain is
still with me as I write this, but this isn’t about just me. It’s about the
footballing community, and to a wider extent, the human race.
I’m a
heterosexual and that is the abuse I
had to deal with, just for standing up for what I believe in. I can’t imagine
how hard it must be for the LGBT community to carry on participating in the
football world when incidents like this occur. I understand why we rarely see professional
footballers come out.
So when you
hear people say that homophobia isn’t an issue in sport, don’t listen to them.
It’s still prevalent. I did the wrong thing last night. I should have said
straight away what I had heard. Don’t make the same mistake. If you witness
something, report it.
The fight
goes on, but I know the side of morality and justice will prevail.
