University Coach
Comes Out of Closet
By AP from the
NYTimes on the Web, April 7, 2007
COLUMBIA, Mo. -- Frustrated
Coach had nowhere else to turn. Alone with his secret, the college
lacrosse coach sat down at his computer seeking others like himself: gay
men who played and coached competitive, high-level sports but remained trapped
in the closet.
''I am totally closeted, not married, totally gay and no one would guess,'' he
wrote in an online chat room for gay athletes, coaches and fans. ''My
family, my team, my university and my career are not even remotely
gay-friendly.''
Over the next two years, Frustrated Coach revealed his hopes, fears and secrets
with his trusted, but similarly anonymous peers on Outsports.com.
The 33-year-old coach shared his regrets about pursuing ''serial one-night
stands'' with strangers as he grappled with his identity.
He disclosed a recent bout with colon cancer. His upbringing in a
fundamentalist Baptist church that scorned homosexuality. The emotional
void he felt in hiding. How a psychologist urged him to date women to make sure
he was truly gay. Alcohol binges he sought to dull the pain. The
24-hour involuntary commitment on suicide watch in a psychiatric hospital.
Gradually, the coach grew more comfortable in his own skin. On Halloween
2004, he told his parents, both devout Baptists and the children of
missionaries.
The coach's parents were devastated. So were his older brother and sister.
The family's youngest child was a sinner, an abomination in the eyes of God.
Communication stopped.
Frustrated Coach returned to his computer, gaining more confidence even as his
family shunned him. Over the ensuing 18 months, he began to confide his
secret to a select group of friends -- but no one connected to lacrosse.
On June 10, 2006, Frustrated Coach again logged on to
www.outsports.com.
This time, he signed his online post using his real name:
Kyle Hawkins. Head coach, University of Missouri men's lacrosse.
.o0o.
The practice fields at the Mizzou
lacrosse summer camp were a stew of sweat, testosterone, juvenile humor and
adolescent chest-thumping.
''What are you, some kind of fag?'' one camper said to another who messed up a
drill.
''Get off me, you have AIDS!'' another shouted to a chorus of teenage laughter.
Hawkins remained silent. He knew that these were high school students,
with all the immaturity that entails. He also knew the locker room's
unforgiving culture, and that anti-gay insults are common in team sports, from
junior high hallways to NFL stadiums.
At the camp, Hawkins revealed his secret to some ex-players working as
assistants, and a few returning players, team leaders with compassion and
sensitivity.
Still, when the entire team returned to school in September, he kept quiet.
''If you're treating it as special, you're still not treating it as equal,''
Hawkins said. ''If I sit my kids down and say, 'Let's talk about my
sexuality' ... What straight coach does that?''
The players knew anyway. There were whispers he'd been seen at one of the
few gay bars in the town. Then some reporters trolling the Web saw his
Outsports posts and sought out Hawkins when Chicago White Sox manager Ozzie
Guillen called a reporter ''a fag.''
The online lacrosse community began its own debate. Among the questions:
Should a gay coach be allowed in the same locker room as his straight players?
For the team, Hawkins' status as the only openly gay men's coach of a major
college sport became the two-ton elephant in the room.
Everyone knew, but no one was talking.
''It's awkward,'' said Blaine Skrainka, a junior attackman and the team's vice
president.
The Tigers' lacrosse program is a club sport; players buy their own equipment
and uniforms and pay annual dues of nearly $2,000. But while the team
lacks varsity status, the players are just as committed. They practice
five days a week and must abide by NCAA rules, from grade requirements to
mandatory study halls on road trips.
''Everybody who plays on our team loves lacrosse,'' said sophomore attackman
Charles Nagel. ''They love the sport enough where they're not going to
quit just because the coach is gay.''
Still, a dozen key players, including the team's star goalie and co-captain,
didn't return to the team this season.
None cited Hawkins' sexuality as the reason they left. They said they
wanted to devote more time to school or internships, or they complained of the
financial burden or a lack of playing time or personality conflicts with
Hawkins.
One former player wrote derogatory comments about Hawkins on Facebook, the
social networking Web site. The coach attributed the outburst to
immaturity and alcohol, not hatred.
He acknowledged, though, that the number of players who left is higher this
year.
''They're young people and they have an issue with me,'' he said -- whether the
issue is his sexual orientation or something else.
Sophomore Sam Fosdick said he quit the team after chafing under Hawkins'
leadership. ''I left because of a disagreement with the coach,'' he said.
''His being gay had nothing to do with it.''
.o0o.
Hawkins grew up in a St. Louis
suburb, in a household so strict he was forbidden to cross the street alone or
play cards and games of chance.
He was the good kid, the one who found acceptance in his church youth group --
even as he struggled with a reality he wouldn't acknowledge for years.
He maintained the charade at Arizona State University, where he was president of
a Baptist student group. Summers were spent as a missionary back in
Missouri.
His eyes opened to the possibilities beyond a life devoted to the church on a
1991 mission trip to Russia. He learned Russian and watched the fall of
communism.
Back in St. Louis after college, he lived with his parents and taught high
school history.
No one knew the first thing about lacrosse, and the school needed a coach for
its new team. Hawkins, passingly familiar with the sport, got the job.
Four years later, he was recruited by Missouri to steady a program in disarray.
He relied on his teaching skills as a coach; he took pride as a communicator,
even as he hid his personal life. And he was successful: In his
first eight years, his teams compiled a record of 112-49, including a conference
championship in 2004.
But that all happened before he came out of the closet. What would happen
now?
Hawkins knew that he would be watched: ''If I grab a kid on the sidelines
and have a hand on his shoulder and point with the other hand at the field,
which hand is he worried about?''
University leaders vowed to stand behind him, citing a school non-discrimination
policy that includes sexual identity. But his first season as the nation's
first openly gay male coach on the collegiate level was not an easy one.
Oct. 14: Time was running out in the first quarter of a game against
archrival Kansas. Hawkins and the opposing coach sought more time on the
clock from the referee.
''We don't care what faggots think,'' the official said.
He then compared gay men to child molesters.
Hawkins didn't hear the insult -- but others did, and told him afterward.
The coach was outraged. He quickly complained to the Great Rivers Lacrosse
Conference's commissioner and head of officials.
The referee sent an apologetic e-mail to Hawkins, calling the matter a botched
joke. He was suspended for at least one year -- a punishment that won't
affect his other job, coaching a local high school's freshmen.
The slur and variations on it have been something of a theme. In
September, at a game at Illinois, Hawkins heard a fan call him a fag. And
at one practice, a member of his own team referred to the Fighting Ilini as
faggots; his teammates glared.
It's all ''a learning experience'' for his players, says Hawkins.
When a player asked Hawkins to volunteer at a fraternity blood drive, the coach
replied that sexually active gay men aren't allowed to donate blood, because
there was too great a risk that the sample could be contaminated with HIV.
The player's response -- a mixture of compassion, curiosity and outrage at what
he perceived as an injustice -- heartened Hawkins. It also made him angry.
''Why weren't you asking those kinds of questions before you knew I was gay?''
the coach thought to himself.
.o0o.
In October 2006, the NCAA hosted a
meeting related to gays in college sports. Among the topics:
''negative recruiting,'' in which coaches urge prospects to reject a rival
school because its coach is gay.
Hawkins worries about negative recruiting. But the most visible change for
the gay coach trying to convince adolescents to play for him is a surprising
one: Missouri has become a magnet for gay high school lacrosse players.
Three such athletes have already committed to Missouri next year. The
connection makes Hawkins uncomfortable. ''If you're gonna make a decision
based on a coach, make a decision based on the coach's coaching ability,'' he
said.
He doesn't want those players to assume they'll receive preferential treatment
simply because they're playing for a gay coach.
''If there are a couple of kids who are shortsighted enough to make a decision
to come here because of my sexuality, there are bound to be a couple of kids who
have decided not to come here (because I'm gay),'' he said. ''That's just
as shortsighted and stupid.''
So life outside of the closet is still complicated, though in different ways.
And regardless, Hawkins says, life is better. At 36, Hawkins is in his
first committed relationship, dating a man for the past six months. The
two spent the Christmas holidays in Ireland.
And he insists that disclosing his true identity has made him a better coach.
Keeping the secret took its toll, and kept his mind off the playing field.
''Instead of being able to focus on lacrosse, I focused a significant amount of
(energy) worrying about who thinks I am gay, who knows I am, who will react
poorly if they find out, who will not,'' he said. ''I don't think about
those things anymore.''
On the Web: University of Missouri lacrosse:
www.mu-lax.org
Outsports: www.outsports.com
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