Anti-Gay

By Jim Buzinski
And Cyd Zeigler
Outsports.com

One is tempted to dismiss the homophobic rantings of Todd Jones as those of a dumb jock. After all, who is Todd Jones, except some guy with an ERA of 5.84 this season and only 1-4 with one save in his last 91 appearances? A once-been who’s fast becoming a has-been.

His comments to the Denver Post about having a gay teammate are barely comprehensible: “I wouldn't want a gay guy being around me,” Jones told the paper. “It's got nothing to do with me being scared. That's the problem: All these people say he's got all these rights. Yeah, he's got rights or whatever, but he shouldn't walk around proud. It's like he's rubbing it in our face. 'See me, hear me roar.' We're not trying to be close-minded, but then again, why be confrontational when you don't really have to be?”

He can’t even correctly quote Helen Reddy. 

We had then started to think that maybe Jones was blind, deaf and dumb.  Hadn’t he seen what other pro athletes like Jeremy Shockey, Allen Iverson, Jason Williams and Garrison Hearst went through when they uttered anti-gay comments?  

But, it dawned on us that maybe he did see what they went through: every athlete who has ranted against gay people has gotten off basically scot-free.  Sure, they got some media criticism.  But, as many in marketing will tell you, any press is good press.  

These athletes have seen no drop in playing time. They have faced no suspension, no fine.  Their careers haven’t suffered at all.  For a quick verbal jab at gay men, an athlete can be the focal point of the sports media.  With no consequences.

We’ve watched it happen over and over again.  It’s like somebody wrote a script in Hollywood years ago that everyone in pro sports has decided to follow:

Scene 1. Dark Clubhouse ­ Night
Athlete is asked a question about gay people and he cannot contain himself, dropping the “F-bomb” and promising that he would never tolerate a gay person on his team.

Scene 2. Newsroom ­ Day
A reporter sees the comments on a Web site and decides to run with it.  Soon, the athlete is on every sports Web site and publication in the country.

Scene 3. Team President’s Office ­ Day
The President of the team with the athlete and the now-infamous comment releases a statement saying that the team embraces the entire community, blah blah blah.

Scene 4. League President’s Office - Day
“It’s just boys being boy,” says the President.  “Play ball.”

Scene 5. Dark Clubhouse ­ Night
The gay player on the team tells himself after the game that, now more than ever, he can never come out.

Scene 6. Baseball Field ­ Day
The player trots out the next day and pitches another game, with neither consequences nor remorse.

John Rocker is the one exception.  But, we’d assert it wasn’t the gay comments that got him in trouble, it was the racial ones:  ‘‘The biggest thing I don’t like about New York are the foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times Square and not hear anybody speaking English. Asians and Koreans and Vietnamese and Indians and Russians and Spanish people and everything up there. How the hell did they get in this country?’’

What would Major League Baseball do if you simply took one word in Jones’ comments and replaced it with another:

“I wouldn't want a black guy being around me. It's got nothing to do with me being scared. That's the problem: All these people say he's got all these rights. Yeah, he's got rights or whatever, but he shouldn't walk around proud. It's like he's rubbing it in our face. 'See me, hear me roar.' We're not trying to be close-minded, but then again, why be confrontational when you don't really have to be?”

What if Garrison Hearst had said:  “Aww, hell no! I don't want any Spics on my team. I know this might not be what people want to hear, but that's a punk. I don't want any Spics in this locker room."

Shockey:  “If I knew there was a Jew on my college football team, I probably wouldn't, you know, stand for it."

The League and the athlete’s team would be in a footrace to see who could suspend him first. Just check out how quickly the Los Angeles Dodgers dumped GM Al Campanis for saying blacks lacked the "necessities" to be in management.

Yet, because Jones attacks gay people, he gets off with nary a slap on the wrist.

The only way things will change is to hit these guys where it hurts—in the ego.  The pocketbook is tough – if somebody’s making a million dollars a year, a $20,000 fine is beer money.  But, to be prevented from taking the field, from helping his team – that starts to hit home.

Is it “anti-free speech” to advocate a punishment for saying what’s on your mind?  Not according the law, which does not protect an individual from retaliation by an employer for speech detrimental to the organization's stated policies. Words can have consequences.

And, if you take the lead from these athletes, it’s good policy.  They say they don’t want distractions in their locker room – saying it disrupts the team and hurts their chances of winning – then go and create a distraction.

Sounds punishable to us.

May 1, 2003