Homophobia in football

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.