‘What,now?’ Doug snort-laughs. ‘You kidding, mate? We want to attract new customers, not lose them.’
I end up at home by myself on Friday night, watching the Pride Round match between the Eagles and Swans on Fox Footy, whiskey in hand.
Both teams are decked out in gaudy eyesores of multi-coloured Pride Guernseys, running onto the field across a rectangular patch of turf painted with a rainbow flag.
I don’t wanna be out there in a rainbow guernsey, but I do wanna be out there. I wanna be with my team. I wanna be playing footy. I wanna help us flog the Swans.
It kills me that I’m not there.
I kick a little plush promo footy into the wall over and over, alone.
At half-time, the Fox Footy team interviews Xander Sullivan. He’s the influencer prick who posted those videos ranting about me online. His face is too shiny and his teeth are too white. He’s draped himself in a rainbow shirt with an Eagles scarf around his neck.
Katy asks him why the Pride Round is so important and he goes on a rant about how homophobia affects closeted football players. As if he has the first clue what that’s like.
Hardwick follows up with a question about ‘the elephant in the room – Kade Hammersmith being managed out for this game’. Xander says it’s not enough. He says I should be banned for several matches to send a clear message.
‘It’s clear Kade Hammersmith has no idea of the harm his comments could do to a closeted football player,’ Xander says smugly.
Bet you a million bucks you’re wrong, dickwad.
Xander goes on to mention a gay footy team. I scroll onto my Insta and search for them. It’s the same team Brick mentioned in the gym.
Perth Centurions only have ninety-seven followers on Insta. They don’t have a website or a proper uniform yet, just a cheap-arse logo of a red Roman Centurion’s head on a black background. I scroll to their grid photos. There’s one of Brick, club president, his arms around a tatted Italian-looking bloke, both in footy gear after a training session. The second photo is of the team – they look unfit, clearly amateurs – and, unexpectedly, I recognise one of them.
‘Piss off,’ I say. ‘As if.’
I tap on the tagged profile in the footy team photo.
Zeke Calogero.
Insta has a blue ‘follow back’ button staring me down. I wonder if Zeke’s been following me since school, or if he followed me after I got famous. He’s still stocky and his expression is still awkward and shy, like he doesn’t know he’s hot. His last selfie is at an oval in his guernsey, captioned:Guess I’m a footy boy now?
Something hijacks my fingers. I DM him:Piss off you’re into footy now. As if.
Unexpectedly, the word ‘seen’ appears right away. Zeke’s read my DM.
And he replies:Wow didn’t expect to hear from you, Kade. Yeah I’m a footy boy now haha. How are you man? Been a while.
I feel all warm. Maybe he doesn’t hate my guts as much as everyone else.
I reply.I saw you in PE class mate. You were shit at footy. What changed?
Zeke messages back. Suddenly, we’re chatting.Lol I’m still shit. But I don’t care. Footy’s fun, I like it. Nice to be part of a team. I’m sure you get that?
Ha. Footy used to make me happy. Now it’s a job.
Do I really feel that way? Or am I just bitter cos of the last few weeks? I remember the joy of footy when I was a little tacker doing Auskick, and booting bags of goals as a teenage prodigy in Gero. It was fun and exciting then. Not a headache.
Zeke sends a bit of a novel to me.
I’ve been meaning to message you about the pride stuff and how you’ve been cancelled. I didn’t know if you’d reply after how we left things years ago. Guess it’s not easy to be in your shoes. The media doesn’t know what I know about you. It makes me a bit more forgiving of what you’ve done.
It’s the nicest anyone’s been to me for at least a week. Zeke’s this little rope coming out of nowhere to save me from the quicksand I’ve trapped myself in.
I’m real sorry for what I did, I type back.
I get it, Zeke replies.I understand if you’re in the closet, something like a pride guernsey might set you off or make you feel threatened?
