The Houston Chronicle ran a 9,000-word oral history of the 1993 Houston Oilers last week, and comments from former players Lamar Lathon and Bubba McDowell regarding gay teammates, a tiny part of the story, garnered the most attention from national media.
From the Chronicle:
McDowell: “Everybody knew certain guys [were gay]. … Everybody speculated and people used to see these two guys come in by themselves. They’d leave at lunchtime and then come back. … And those same gentlemen that was being accused of it, we was with them all of the time. The whole time.”
Lathon: “… Everybody in the locker room, the consensus knew or had an idea that things were not exactly right. But guess what? When they strapped the pads on and got on the field, man, we were going to war with these guys because they were unbelievable.”
As more and more retired athletes have come out in recent years, homosexuality and spots has become a high-profile topic lately. Since this story surfaced, Lathon’s and McDowell’s comments have been cited as support for the idea that NFL might be ready for openly gay players. Yahoo! Sports, for example, led its coverage by saying “The topic of whether a gay player would be accepted in a NFL locker room is probably overblown. Players like teammates who can help them win. The rest is trivial.”
While that seems to be the general takeaway from the Chronicle piece, some have treated it as a evidence that locker rooms have been reasonably friendly environments for gay players for two decades. The New York Daily News opened its story, “The question of whether the NFL is ready for a gay player was already answered 20 years ago.”
But there’s a difference between tolerance and support, and while Lathon and McDowell say that nobody on the team had a problem with their teammates’ sexual orientation, their words are not exactly those of glowing acceptance. The language used—vague comments alluding to catching them in the proverbial closet during hotel stays and lunch breaks, and most of the team knowing “things were not exactly right”—tells a different story, one where homosexuality was kind of, sort of, but not exactly, okay. It sounds like being gay was only excusable because it was kept somewhat secret and because those guys were beasts on the field.
Being that Lathon and McDowell are the only players quoted, we don’t really get a full picture of what happened. Twenty years later the two players at issue still remain unnamed and unheard from. We don’t know why they have chosen to remain silent, and whether they really felt comfortable with how their teammates treated them. Still, if the comments are true—that generally no big issues arose from having (somewhat closeted) gay players in the locker room, it could shed light on what it might be like for the first active player who decides to come out.
But the comments from another member of that 1993 Oilers team offers a different vision of what life might have been like for a gay player in the ‘90s, and by extension, what it could look like today. For years, Ernest Givins, a two-time Pro-Bowl receiver, was accused of being gay. He denied those accusations in a 1998 interview with ESPN, saying, “If they say, I found Earnest Givins driving at 140 miles an hour, get pulled over with cocaine in his car, or whatever the case may be, that’s nothing. … we see that and hear that every day with athletes. But when you start stereotyping athletes, start putting that gay thing on them, that hurts more than anything. That hurts more than anything.”
Givins, who didn’t comment on the revelations in the Chronicle story, also has said he was taunted and accused of hitting on young athletes. Regardless of whether he was one of the athletes McDowell and Lathon were talking about, he painted a much bleaker picture of what it was like to be a (actual or imagined) gay football player at the time: Being a criminal and putting lives at risk was more acceptable than loving another man.