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The veterans on the
team piled into the van I was driving for the final regular season
road trip of the year from Santa Barbara to Stockton, Calif., this
spring, leaving the rookies to drive with the head coach. We
followed our coach closely and rode along in silence because it was
early in the morning. When the van began to shake violently,
everyone woke up and became alert.
Smoke enveloped the van as it began to sway, but I
managed to regain control and pull over to a halting stop just short
of a cliff. The entire team leapt out unscathed and moved away
from the van, only to see that the right front tire had exploded and
flown off of the wheel.
I called my coach; he
pulled over a mile down the road, and walked back to meet us while
we called for help. The university brought us a new van and we
continued our drive up the coast. At first, my teammates and I
were silent; more silent than before, but this time everyone was
awake. After a brief lunch break, we piled back into the van
and my teammates began to discuss the near disaster that we faced.
One by one, my teammates
went around sharing stories that they never had told before and the
bonds began to form stronger than ever. It was my turn. I
reflected on what I had been through for the past month and the
180-degree turn my life had taken within days.
Growing up, I always knew
that something about me was a little different, but I was never able
to put my finger on it. Throughout high school, I was still
unsure of what it was, but it was more out of insecurity and
immaturity. I graduated high school and left New Jersey for
Lafayette College in Pennsylvania to play tennis. I began to
come to grips with the realization that I was attracted to men, but
I believed that it was just a phase. After taking numerous
psychology courses in my freshman year, I began to think that I
could condition myself to like girls by dating them. By my
sophomore year, it was all I could think about: I was gay and there
was no way that I could change.
I did not know any gay
men personally, but I did know that I was nothing like any of the
gay men portrayed on television. No one had ever asked me if I
was gay before because everyone just assumed that I was
straight. I dated girls, played sports, and had male
friends. However, I knew that I had to get a fresh start, so I
transferred to UC-Santa Barbara to continue my tennis career.
My two-year career at UCSB was humbled by surgery on my left and
right wrists, in addition to countless other injuries, including
torn tendons and muscles. The surgery on my right wrist ended
my senior year six matches into the season.
It is often said that
things happen for a reason, but until February, I never believed
that. Everyone always told me that I was the luckiest person
alive: I won $4,000 on the “Weakest Link” and a new car on the
“Price is Right,” but the internal struggle that I battled with my
sexuality and the countless injuries made me feel
unlucky.
Tennis was the only
outlet that I had where I could focus on something other than my
sexuality, but now I was forced to come face to face with it; I did
not know what to think or do. I had just recovered from the
surgery on my left wrist and days later I received the news that I
had to get surgery on my right wrist. I could not hold my
sexuality in any longer and I revealed my secret to two close female
friends of mine and their roommate, who was gay. I knew that I
could trust them and each offered their support, which was something
that I needed at the time.
'Certain I Was
Gay'
As the captain of the
team, I continued to go on road trips and be an active member of the
team, but it became difficult to lead a life where some of my
friends knew and others did not. Things progressed between my
friends’ roommate Josh and I, and all of the doubts that I had faced
for years disappeared. I was certain that I was gay and that
it was something I could live with.
I thought that I would
just tell my three friends and then maybe one of my sisters, but
within days, I told each of my close friends and all of my five
siblings, but neither of my parents. I was becoming so
comfortable with everything so quickly.
I told my mom that I
needed her to come visit for my surgery, but really I wanted to
reveal to her that I was gay. My mom is one of the most
important people in my life and I have never lied to her about
anything else. I needed her to know. I was afraid that
if I waited to tell her until after my surgery, I would allow the
medication to affect me too much. A few hours after she
arrived, I said to her, “Mom, I am gay.” It was the first time
that I had uttered that sentence. Prior to telling my mom, I
had always said, “I am coming out.” While this may not seem
like a monumental statement, it was for me.
Josh invited my mom and
me over for dinner so I had to explain to my mom that Josh was more
than a friend and that we were dating. She took everything
very well considering the fact that she learned of my secret and met
my boyfriend within minutes of one another. I let her know
that it was OK if she needed time to herself, but she exclaimed, “I
want to see him!” Upon meeting Josh, my mom said, “How is your
boyfriend better looking than all of your sisters’ ”? I was
excited that she was comfortable with the situation and it was a big
relief.
The support that I
received from my friends and family was overwhelming to the point
that I was sorry that I had waited so long, but everyone has their
time and it is important to be ready to come out so that you do not
doubt yourself.
Each person I told was
shocked, confused, and in utter disbelief, but my constant
reassurance that I was telling the truth calmed them, and in turn,
calmed me. I had never answered more questions about myself
before, but I enjoyed every minute because it was freeing to finally
be myself and express my true feelings.
I enjoyed educating
people about all of the false stereotypes; the process made me learn
a lot about my friends and family. I realized how truly
special were the people I surrounded myself with. I was able
to think analytically about homosexuality for the first time because
I was able to accept myself as a gay man. However, I had not
yet accepted myself as a gay athlete.
Telling my teammates,
especially the veterans with whom I had already been through one
season, was the scariest thing I have ever done. I missed
playing tennis so much because of my injuries, but traveling helped
me remain a part of the team. Would my teammates want me to
leave the team? Would they be afraid to room with me on
trips? I did not know what to expect, but I had to tell them,
especially after what we had been through. My college career
almost came to a close without some of the most important people in
my life ever knowing such an important aspect of
me.
Taking the
Plunge
I had played in matches
when the team’s fate came down to my court, and I knew that this
situation was similar: I had to be confident and focus on winning
instead of being afraid to lose, because on any team everyone has
fallen down and needed to be picked back up.
All of those thoughts
ran through my mind in the van as my teammates awaited my
story. The thought of almost going over that cliff made me
realize how fragile life was and how important it was to be
myself. My team’s attention focused on me and I tried to get
to the point quickly so that they would believe me. I told
them that I was dating someone and that it was a guy. Again,
the shock and disbelief were rampant, but within minutes, I gained
their trust and acceptance.
Not one of my teammates
had an adverse reaction and when I told them who I was dating, a
junior named Josh who had come to several of the matches, one of my
teammates said, “Oh, the hot Abercrombie-looking guy?” I was
flattered and replied, “That’s the one."
I answered questions for
the remainder of the trip and even throughout the weekend. I
told my remaining teammates that same weekend and their reactions
were similar to the others, but more importantly, so were their
responses. I had not told my coach, Marty Davis,
yet.
The season came to a
close in disappointing fashion, as we lost in our conference
tournament. The team was driving home together when he began
to discuss the year-end banquet. Davis suggested that this
year’s banquet was going to be slightly more formal than in the past
and he encouraged everyone to bring a date. I grew nervous as
my teammates’ eyes once again focused on me. I asked him who
we should bring and he said, “Well, only bring a date if you have a
girlfriend or something like that.” I replied, “I’ve got
something like that,” and after laughs from my team, the
conversation ended.
The banquet is combined
with the women’s tennis team and I thought about how the coaches,
trainers, and alumni might react to my bringing Josh to the
banquet. I decided to tell my coach so that everyone’s
attention could be focused on the banquet and not on Josh and
me. He was glad that I told him and his support was
overwhelming. He, unlike everyone else, treated the issue as
if it was normal. He had not suspected, and maybe it was his
shock, but he offered his support and told me to bring
Josh.
I begged all of my
teammates to bring dates so that Josh would not stick out and each
promised me that they would. However, no one on either the
men’s or women’s team brought a date … except for me! My coach
did a great job of spreading the word to the other guests ahead of
time and no one’s jaw dropped.
The banquet went off
without a hitch until the end: senior speeches. Most seniors
fail to prepare and are put on the spot to give a speech. I
came fully prepared and probably put more effort into my speech than
I had into any paper in my four years of college. Of the
approximately 35 people in attendance, there was not one dry eye by
the end. I offered parodies of my teammates and coaching
staff, but then spoke to them about the support that my teammates
and coach had given to me over the past few months. I never
directly said what their support was for, but the implication
touched my team in a way that I never had before. I thanked
them for understanding how difficult it was for me to watch from the
sidelines, for keeping me as the captain, and most importantly for
always trying to make me feel a part of the team.
It has been a very short
amount of time that I have been open about my sexuality, but it
feels as if a tremendous amount of weight has been lifted off of my
shoulders. I am recently a college graduate and look forward
to beginning a new chapter in my life in which I can be
myself. I feel lucky and I know that not everyone will have as
positive of an experience as I have had, but I can only tell my
story, and hope that it offers someone a sense of security to know
that there are openly gay athletes out there.
Matt Coin, 22,
graduated in June from UC-Santa Barbara with a degree in Sociology.
He will spend the next two months coaching tennis in Europe before
pursuing his career goals San Francisco. He can be reached via e-mail.
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June 14,
2005 |