NFL players like me are cheered when we come out … and are soon unemployed

If Carl Nassib is not signed to a team by 8 September, the NFL, a league with 32 teams and more than 1,600 players, will once again not have a single LGBTQ+ in its ranks.

I’m writing this piece well before that date because it’s a travesty and there’s still time for the situation to change. When I became the first out active NFL player to identify as bisexual in August 2019 and I found myself without a team, I would have wanted someone to advocate for me.

After all, establishing yourself in the NFL is hard enough if you’re straight. As a former player, I know the sacrifices that you have to make in order to be a professional player but also the commitments you make to stay at the top of your game. Time, family, friends, love, and other life-callings all take a backseat to your sport. When you’re LGBTQ+, the struggle is even harder. The rigorous journey of coming out requires immense effort on top of the challenges of being an elite athlete. Image, societal norms and constructs, safety, family, friends, work and opportunities are often sacrificed for one to find the power and courage to come out.

That’s why athletes, like anyone, should come out when they are ready. We know the joy and love that will come when someone shares the truth of who they are, but we need to stop forcing our timelines and expectations on athletes when they already sacrifice so much. And instead of just focusing on the newsworthy-ness of their announcement, we should focus on how staff, fans, teammates, and people treat them when they do. Otherwise, we create a pattern of celebrating an athlete’s bravery while also cutting their career off at the kneecaps.

Recent examples offer cautionary tales.

After Michael Sam told the world he was gay, he was drafted in the seventh round in 2014, the lowest pick of any SEC defensive player of the year. He bounced around practice squads and in Canada, never making it onto an NFL regular-season roster.

I was drafted in the fifth round in 2015 by the Dallas Cowboys, started several games for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, and had some terrific highlights in my time on the field. And after coming out in 2019, I never got another tryout, call, or interest from an NFL team. Despite reaching out several times, I haven’t spoken to my sports agent again to this day.

In 2021, Carl became the first NFL player on an active roster to come out as gay. He went on to make several big-time plays, including a game-winning play on Monday Night Football for the Raiders against the Ravens … and was released in March. In the prime of his career at the age of 29, he is without a team.

I’m not necessarily saying that coming out and a career stalling are inexorably linked – just that these three examples appear to form a troubling pattern. What is happening? The trend is striking considering that each year the league’s acceptance of LGBTQ+ athletes has grown, and we are seeing LGBTQ+ advocacy from the NFL on a scale never seen before. Fans and players appear to be evolving too. Nassib received support from his teammates and other players when he came out, while a recent survey in association with LGBT Hero found 23% of US fans would be more likely to cheer for their favourite player if they came out.

Are we not getting the support we need after the whirlwind that comes with finally living our truth? Do teams view a player’s value differently after coming out? Is there a disconnect between the NFL as an organization and the individual teams and their owners? What needs to change?

The story of Carl’s former coach at the Raiders, Jon Gruden, perhaps offers a partial answer. While Gruden expressed his support for Carl when he came out, leaked emails revealed that, as well as making racist and misogynistic comments, he had once bemoaned the fact that the NFL was encouraging teams to draft “queers”. How many others in positions of power in the NFL pay lip service to inclusion but hold other opinions in private? And how does that affect a player’s employment prospects? And further reading of the LGBT Hero survey reveals that 22% of sports fans said they wouldn’t support teams with LGBT athletes.

What’s happened to Michael Sam and myself is already done. While Carl’s future in the NFL is still unsure, any other player of his caliber at this stage in their career wouldn’t be unsure, they would be signed, already an integral part of an organization’s success.

We need to be proactive and intentional in the organizations we build and support. We have to make sure actions back up the works, promises, and social media posts.

That doesn’t discredit the fantastic work that has been done for LGBTQ+ athletes and all athletes. I’ve been given a platform within the NFL to share my experiences and spearhead speeches, panels, talks, and initiatives. I’ve seen LGBTQ+ athletes and the teams they play for donating to the Trevor Project, the leading nonprofit for LGBTQ+ youth suicide prevention, partnering with GLAAD and paying homage to LGBTQ+ legends such as former Patriots star Ryan O’Callahan.

In all of this and more we see the growth. But ultimately players who come out are still players and what they have wanted, needed, and hoped for, is an opportunity to play the game they love while also living their life openly and honestly. If that opportunity is given to Carl Nassib, the NFL and the LGBTQ+ community can finally break a cycle that has plagued male sports – the league can finally be the example it has claimed it would like to be.

source: theguardian.com