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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 7, 1998)
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Denver enerally, when I think of Amsterdam, I chicken-wire-enforced window near the ceiling think of trams, Indonesian food, Anne that revealed nothing but chilling pitch-black Frank and getting stoned. But not this bleakness outside. I quickly, and very obviously, week. This week I think of G ay Games lost my first match. To save the family further and throngs of queer athletes from all over the shame, my father let me quit. Quitting was world. I’m not sure I can relate. something the family frowned upon, but we knew it was time to make an exception. My first exposure to sports was, I’m guess Abandoning wrestling gave me more energy ing, in first grade. T hat’s when my physical education started— of course, our teacher was a to expend on games of “smear the queer” at big dyke. I can’t remember her name, but she school. Another game we played at school was remains one of the burliest women crab soccer. Crab soccer was surely concocted I’ve ever met. Perhaps it was by some stoned gym teacher who thought how because I was so tiny that she amazing it would he to watch children scram seemed so intimidating. Either she bling across a gymnasium floor on their hands and feet, torsos facing skyward, kicking an had no gaydar when it came to children, or she simply had no sym oversized, yet lightweight, ball about. One kid, pathy for the sissy boys. But she Mike something or other, miscalculated and wasn’t so bad. put his foot up to stop a ball flying through the I don’t remember there being air. The ball landed squarely on his foot, push ing his knee down into his chin, forcing him to sports, per se, in first grade; just a lot of running. Every class began bite a hole through his tongue. It was great fun. with running a lap on our little By high school, we were segregated by sex. I legs. I remember liking it and fin don’t even recall lesbian gym teachers in high ishing first once in a while. school, much less any queer men. It was just a Third grade was my first By high school we were segregated year for organized team sports. Like most every subur by sex. I don't even recall lesbian ban, middle-class boy in gym teachers in high school much 1977, I played soccer. 1977 less any queer men. It was ju st a was the year my parents divorced and I started getting lot o f not'tOO-bright m en built - ^ J fat, so I preferred playing full- like tanks... back, which allowed me to just hang around my team’s goal. lot of not-too-bright men built like tanks and a Thankfully, there wasn’t too much couple of hardened ex-wives teaching tennis running involved. and dating English teachers. «1 j Back at school, I started playing Being physical, P.E. was the only class J four-square with the girls and the where bullies could torment you at will. Kids other queer boys. Other boys get hit in the head with baseballs everyday. BY played basketball, which, not being W ho’s to say it’s intentional? WILL a lesbian, I didn’t enjoy at all. Four I suppose when I think about the Gay own square seemed so laid back com Games, I’m just amazed that so many people in pared to the games those boys the community have found a way to embrace played, experiencing their first pre-pubescent the sporting life. Don’t get me wrong. In the hint of testosterone. name of Fraulein Maria, I’ll gladly climb any A bom socialist, I never understood the mountain— as long as there’s a footpath. urge to compete, despite my early wins on the Bicycling, canoeing, etc., the pedestrian pas track. The lesbian gym teacher assured us we times are just fine with me. But this on-your- weren’t competing; only working toward our mark-get-set-destroy world of competitive personal best. sports was the first place I got an anti-queer My father’s last act as head-of-household vibe. before the divorce was to insist that I partici I’m glad not everyone feels the same. It’s a pate in a season of wrestling. It was a horribly pretty safe bet that many, if not most, queer depressing winter. The family was falling apart, kids were alienated on the playing field as chil albeit none too soon, and I had to spend a cou dren. It must say something about our ple of hours each week in a high school gymna resilience as a community that we’ve reclaimed sium, tackling people and looking out the little those playing fields for our adult selves.
