Home Goal and My Goal: Two Gay Footballers Stories

by H J Perry

  With Jason firmly holding onto Scott’s left hand, it was fortunate that custom dictates people shake hands with the right one. Harry held out his right hand, and Scott took it, still trying to slip his fingers out of Jason’s without struggling free, but Jason was gripping him firmly.

  “Nice to meet you, Scott, sorry once again for intruding. I really should be going.”

  Scott didn’t know what to say, but Jason didn’t let an embarrassing silence occur.

  “Fuck it, Harry. I can’t believe the one night I bring home a guy, a guy I really like, my place turns out as busy as Piccadilly Circus. I’ve been so fucking careful for years, and you’ve got no right to be here. You never let yourself in with your own key, and you've only got a key for an emergency.”

  “Jason, I’m sorry. It makes no difference to me, and I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise you. But if you come out, you’ll have support.”

  Jason looked stony-faced. “Are you mad? Do you go to the same club as me? Don’t you hear the queer-hating comments? The stuff they happily say about gays that they’d never say about a black player.”

  “Most of them are just ignorant and don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “Harry, I don’t want to face hostility in the dressing room or from the fans.”

  “Well, I’m not going to out you. That’s up to you. Relax and enjoy your breakfast with Scott and forget you ever saw me. Because that’s what I’m going to do. And Scott, I can see you mean a lot to Jase, so it really is good to meet you, and I hope I’ll see you around a lot more. I have no problem if one of my teammates has a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend.”

  “Harry,” said Jason. “No one else on the team knows about this. In fact, hardly anybody knows. Only a handful of people know I’m gay.”

  “I’m not going to say anything, mate, I promise you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  April 2012

  Jason

  There was a limited window in which to make a lot of money as a footballer. They faced retirement in their thirties if injuries didn’t finish them off sooner. Work kept Jason busy. Before meeting Scott, it was already a full-time commitment. Training most days, one or two matches a week, and off pitch duties for the team and his personal brand of celebrity, Jason Tant. All coupled with a lot of travel time.

  2012 marked a turning point in Jason’s life. The contrast between the day job and home life, the locker room and the bedroom, couldn’t be greater.

  “I had two girls last night.”

  “Was that because they had to entertain each other and you couldn’t even handle one?”

  “Boy, they left with big grins on their faces and could hardly walk when I’d finished with them.”

  Jason hated these conversations. He’d never voluntarily join in with this kind of banter and hated it when he was drawn into it. Sometimes it was unavoidable. The team spent far too much time together with little to do, including traveling to matches and staying at hotels every night before a game, home or away.

  At eighteen, when he first joined the league of professional footballers, he had to hang out and join in with the younger guys; fitting in, team bonding, being part of the pack were as important as on the pitch performance. If you weren’t one of the starting eleven for the first team, you had to prove yourself in every way possible. The same when he joined a new team. Bonding often involved in your face aggression and sexuality. Fine for the straight players, perhaps, but a process that excluded any player who was gay.

  Only fourteen players, including reserves, set foot on a pitch in a match but the full squad of Premiership teams was more than double this number when the under twenty ones were included. Jason worked hard at hiding who he really was in order to fit in. With age, experience and as a recognized top player, one of the starting eleven for every match, he gained confidence. A confidence already boosted by his background through a privileged education system. What he did on the pitch, in a game, secured his place in the team, and the pack pressure eased. But he still had to have an answer for direct questions.

  There should be about fifty gay players in the Premiership if the just under ten percent estimate were correct. Jason wouldn’t be surprised if he were the only gay player in the top tier, however, because most gay youth would have recognized and run from the shark pit of homophobic hostility that is football. Most gay teenagers would have got the hell out of there, and Jason often wondered why he was so driven to play the game despite the great personal cost.

  “I suppose you’ll be hiding in your room after dinner.” Mark’s comment was loud enough to invite others to join in the conversation.

  The eighteen players gathered for dinner at the hotel; the eleven starters and seven reserves playing in the match the next day. Management, coaches, and staff sat at other tables in the dining room reserved for the football club, away from the prying eyes of the public and paparazzi.

  “We should all get an early night,” said Eric. “The season’s almost over, we’re all exhausted and we’ve not secured a place in next season’s UEFA tournament yet. I don’t want to miss out by one goal.” The two Manchester teams were so far ahead by this stage in the season that first and second place were inevitably going to that city. BSC was in the battle for third place.

  “But, Captain, doesn’t two hours on Skype defeat the purpose of staying in a hotel, away from the wives and girlfriends?”

  “Mark, I don’t think you should be shit stirring like that,” Ron chipped in. He was the youngest player of the eleven players expected to be among the starters the next day.

  “We’re not in a hotel to cut us off from our families but to get a good night’s sleep, especially valuable to the lads who’ve got young kids that keep them up at night, or domestic problems. But it’s to help us all keep from temptation, so no late night drinks, films or gambling.” As team captain, Eric was taking the exchange too literally and setting out the ethos for the benefit of Ron and young players.

  Mark was old enough to know better, and Jason knew Mark’s purpose was fun and banter.

  “If a bit of sexy talk with his girl by video link helps a guy sleep, why not. I might do the same,” said Chris. A free for all on this topic was gaining momentum.

  “Difference is, we’ve all met your bird,” said Mark.

  “My fiancée, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sorry, Chris. We’ve met your lovely young lady.”

  “Better.” Chris nodded.

  “But no one’s even seen a photo of Jason’s babe.”

  “Perhaps she’s no babe.” Ron chuckled and set a group of players guffawing.

  “Yeah. No babe because she’s your mom, Ron.” Jason had to join in at some point, no matter how reluctant.

  Mark rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe a mother joke is the best you got?”

  Mother insults can at times get the men pretty riled, especially if it came from an opposition player on the pitch, but in team banter, it was so ridiculous that the footballers let it go. They all heard and gave far worse.

  The men started to take their seats.

  Harry avoided the conversation and moved as far away as possible from Jason. Since that awkward breakfast morning, the friendship between Harry and Jason grew stronger, at home. They continued to travel together to training when it suited them and meet up in their spare time for dinner and video games. Liz and Scott frequently joined Harry and Jason for dinner in one or other of the footballers’ apartments. With teammates, however, Harry put considerable distance between himself and Jason. Jason assumed this was so Harry could avoid being put in situations like this, where he might be asked difficult questions.

  “If Chris can lodge a complaint against his friend of special interest being called a bird, why discuss whether mine is a babe?”

  “Oh no, don’t tell us she really is a babe, like underage?”

  Mark sat down next to Jason, which would be fine so long as the topic under discussion moved on soon.


  “You are even more antisocial now than you used to be when we were teenagers. The only guy on the team who didn’t have a girlfriend, I seem to remember. I’m pleased you’ve met someone, but it’s weird that you’ve had a loved-up face for the past two or three months, but we’ve not met her or even seen a picture.”

  “What loved up face?” Jason asked before anyone else could focus on his lack of girlfriend history.

  “I got to agree with Mark, much as it pains me to admit it. You are so different recently,” said Eric.

  “You send loads more text messages. You smile more with some far away dreamy look on your face,” Chris commented.

  “You’re happy, relaxed. You’ve got that well-fucked grin on your face when you turn up for work.”

  Jason could feel a grin surfacing on his face as they talked about him; he recognized what they said was all true.

  “I just can’t understand how come we’ve never met her.”

  “There you are. Everyone knows, Jason. So you may as well admit it.”

  “Admit what?” Jason knew he looked guilty. He could feel the heat in his cheek, but his olive skin tone didn’t flush too red.

  “Tell us about this girl you are seeing.”

  He couldn’t tell them there was no girl; that wouldn’t wash.

  “You should hang out with the lads more often while you’re still young.” Ron urged the conversation along when Jason didn’t reply.

  “Mark’s been telling us you didn’t join in with the lads on your youth team either. And there was us just thinking you’re shy since you join this team. At first, I thought you were too posh for us.” Chris brushed his fingers through his blond hair.

  “Oh, it’s all coming out now.” Jason was genuinely interested to hear what his teammates thought of him. “Tell me what you really think, why don’t you.”

  For all the banter and one-upmanship the guys wanted Jason to join them, to bond. It obviously didn’t occur to any of them that perhaps he didn’t want to go to straight clubs, strip clubs, and pick up women. Not all the guys did. Of the full club, first team, and reserves, Jason certainly wasn’t the most reclusive of the players.

  “Your dad was a legend when he played. So I was excited about being on the same team as you, but you don’t join in. Like on nights out.”

  “He’s twenty-three now, that’s approaching middle-age in footballer years.” Nick was one of the team’s under twenty-ones.

  “I’d like to think I’m in my prime,” Jason replied.

  “Think what you like, but you know the truth.”

  “Anyway, you’ll bring her to the end of season dinner,” Chris stated and then said, “Do what you like in your room. We must’ve stayed in this hotel I don’t know how many hundreds of times. You get the same room every time, like a home from home. And you don’t have to make the bed.”

  “I don’t make the bed at home; my wife does it,” Eli said, proving that every man was in on this conversation. “If she hasn’t made the bed, we could just sleep in a different room, every day of the year.”

  Communication was traveling over the usual territory, who has the biggest house, the most money, and soon it would be the fastest car.

  One of the single football players replied. “Okay, so my house is not as big as yours. But I could be sleeping in a different woman’s bed every night because the ladies are queuing up for a bite of this.”

  “They are queuing up for a bite at married players too, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk.” Ever diplomatic, an excellent Captain, but Eric could also be as wild as the rest of the lads.

  Mark nudged Jason in the ribs. “What is it with this secret girlfriend, if she is not underage and she is not so-and-so’s mother. Is she so ugly you don’t want any of us to meet her because she’ll stand out in the wives and girlfriends group?”

  He definitely won’t fit in with the WAGs, thought Jason. Mostly models and pop stars or women who wanted to be models, pop stars or generic celebrities. That’s right, he is not what you’d expect my lover to look like. Jason didn’t say what he was actually thinking. “What makes you so sure I’m seeing anybody?”

  “Harry. Have you met her?” Chris shouted across the room. Now everyone was involved in talking about Jason’s love life.

  Harry held up his hands and shook his head.

  “You two live in the same building, Harry, you must’ve seen Jason’s mystery woman.”

  The assumption that any lover must be female was quite staggering. They could imagine her as any age or any nationality but could not conceivably believe one of their fellow football players was dating a man.

  Such a sharp contrast to life outside of football, where lesbian and gay family members, work colleagues and friends were commonplace.

  “No, I’ve not met anyone. Jason and I still eat dinner together some nights. I don’t know who he’s dating or anything about it.”

  Jason knew Harry hated that. At home, Harry got on very well with Scott and Liz, Scott’s best friend. The four of them had regular meals together and hung out together a couple of times a week in one of their apartments. Scott and Harry got on particularly well; they joked around like giggling schoolgirls until Jason or Liz called them to order, acting like grown-ups.

  Let’s see what you all think of him when you meet him after the match tomorrow, thought Jason.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  April 2012

  Scott

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “It’s something a bit different.”

  Liz leaned close to Scott and whispered. “It’s certainly different, all right. I’ve sat through a whole football match surrounded by people who spend as much on an outfit as what I have to live on for a year.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m just finishing my degree course and of all the social activities I might want to do in my limited leisure time this is what we’re doing.”

  “Exactly. Think of the fun we could have had riding roller coasters at Drayton Manor Park, but at least you’re about to meet up with your boyfriend soon.”

  “Sh!” Scott looked around. Never in his life before this year had he shushed someone for saying something that might reveal anything about his gay private life. The VIP box was emptying, and no one seemed to hear Scott and Liz talking. No one had shown any interest in them at all. “It’s about broadening your horizons, Liz, doing something you’ve never done before.”

  “And something I’m not likely to do again.”

  “Fair enough, but at least you’ll have done it once. Been to one football match. Experienced the sport, beloved by our nation. Hung out with the VIPs and WAGs.”

  “Okay, you’ve got me there. I do believe in doing everything once.”

  “And you may never get another chance like this.”

  “Thinking about it, I’ll get plenty of opportunities. I’ve seen you two together, you’re so sweet, and you’re never going to split up. You’re going to grow old together, and you’ll be begging me to escort you to more of these things.”

  Scott felt a warm glow inside as Liz commented on his relationship. It had been a whirlwind that changed his life. Last Christmas he’d been a young, out, gay student who studied as much as he needed to and partied as hard as he wanted to. By Easter, he’d settled down into a monogamous relationship that involved no gay clubs and lots of staying in with his boyfriend. And he had never been happier. Liz was right; Scott did envisage a long-term future with his footballer.

  “You like him too, don’t you?” asked Scott.

  “I love him. He’s good company. Otherwise, I wouldn’t stay over a couple of nights a week. I’m not just coming back to his place with you for the free food and to play gooseberry. Also, he’s such a good influence on you. I think I should be jealous as he’s stealing my best friend but no; I’m euphoric to be part of this threesome.”

  “Sorry Liz, I draw the line there. Absolutely no threesomes. Not involving a girl anyway.
I don’t think Jason is bi. No, I’m pretty sure he told me is a hundred percent gay.”

  “Boring. Only joking. Not with you, my best friend, that’s just weird.”

  “I thought you might be after a footballer of your own. You and Harry?”

  “Harry is becoming a friend like you are my friend, Scott. There’ll never be a me and Harry in any other sense of the word.”

  “Why not? We’d make a good double dating foursome.”

  “Harry?! Scott, is your gaydar broken?”

  “Harry? No way, Liz.”

  The box was becoming quieter as almost everyone had trickled out. Liz and Scott stood to follow the other guests to the lounge where they’d all wait to meet up with footballers.

  As they walked to the lounge, trailing behind and leaving some distance between themselves and the rest of the VIP guests, Liz asked, “Are you going to move in with Jason this summer?”

  “We’ve talked about it.”

  “You have. How exciting. I’m pleased you’re together.”

  “We’ve not decided on anything, just talked. Liz, I’ve only known him a few months.”

  “You don’t need longer to know he’s the man for you. I can see it. To be honest, I’m quite worried. I don’t know where I’m going to live or if I can afford to stay on at college.”

  “Something will come up, Liz. And as a last resort, you can stay with my parents. They love you like the daughter they never had.”

  It was weird in the player’s lounge, or WAGs enclosure, as Scott and Liz called it, in very hushed voices.

  Everyone seemed to know everyone but ignored the two strangers. There was real excitement in the room; Scott wondered if it was always like this or only when their team were victorious.