Chapter 9 #2
In the Uber on the way to the studio, Tessa winds a pen in her curly hair and gabbles the club’s key messages at me.
‘You might get a question about the Pride Game,’ she says.
‘Do you have something natural, off-the-cuff you can say? If you have an LGBT family member, that could be nice to bring up … if it feels organic?’
I’ve thought about this a lot. Boycotting this Pride shit could legit wreck my career.
Over the last couple of years, coaches and players alike have copped fines and multi-game suspensions for using slurs like ‘cocksucker’ or ‘faggot’.
I’m pissed, but Doug’s right. Not worth it.
Especially not when the team is struggling, and the boys need me.
Plus, boycotting might make that psycho DM me again. Don’t wanna provoke him.
I’ve decided if I get any questions about it, I’ll do what they did in that episode of South Park. I’ll say ‘stunning and brave’. Everyone who knows that episode will know I’m pulling the piss, and everyone else will think I’m being a good woke little team player.
‘I don’t have any gay mates or family,’ I tell Tessa.
‘Then just mention how important inclusion and diversity are for the club,’ she suggests, distractedly checking her emails on her phone.
I decide to test my theory. ‘I could say gay dudes are “stunning and brave”.’
Tessa takes a few seconds to process what I’ve said; she’s reading an email.
‘Change “gay dudes” to “members of the LGBTQIA+ community”,’ Tessa says. ‘“Stunning” is a bit much, but “brave” is great. Definitely use the word brave.’
We get greeted at the TV studio by some producer lady. Some tech guys come to fit my mic. We wait in the green room until the producer lady ushers me into the studio.
‘Good luck,’ Tessa says. ‘I’ll be watching on the monitors.’
TV interviews are always so quick and hectic. You get two seconds to say g’day to the hosts, then boom, you’re live on air being watched by punters all across Australia.
Today’s panel of three is made up of Dunk, Katy and Hardwick. The interview is mostly led by Dunk, a tough, blokey ex-Adelaide player who was a three-time All-Australian full-back. He’s now forty and has a bald head shinier than Tom Hawkins’ biceps.
‘Joining us now, key West Coast Eagles full-forward, and maybe a smokey for this year’s Coleman, Kade “Hammer” Hammersmith,’ Dunk announces. ‘Hammer, morning mate. Not the way you’d want an interstate trip to pan out – how’d you pull up after that crushing loss to Collingwood at the G last night?’
I do okay in media interviews. I’m not as well spoken as Sniper but I’ve got my own style and don’t need to say much to get people on side.
I’m interviewed about everything from stepping up into the Polak role this season to the shitty match-up on the Collingwood full-back last night to hamstring injury recovery to whether I’ll make All-Australian this year.
Then Dunk throws a curveball.
‘And how’s the relationship between you and the young gun, Oshy Byrne?’ Dunk prods. ‘A superstar in the making, and after last night’s four-goal performance, he’s hot on your heels for leading club goalkicker. Have you played a mentor role to him, the way Steve Polak did for you?’
I have a flash of the memory of putting Deep Heat on Oshy’s mouthguard.
‘Yeah, important to get around the younger lads and give ’em some pointers … when you’re young you think you know everything, and you don’t … so yeah, I’m keeping young Oshy on the straight and narrow, haha.’
‘What advice would you give Oshy that you wish you’d had at his age?’ Katy, a former AFLW champion, asks. ‘If he was here, now, what would you say to him?’
I stare down the barrel of the camera. ‘Don’t shy away from contests,’ I say, happy to get a little dig in. ‘Don’t be afraid of the hard ball get. And listen to your elders, champ.’
Katy laughs. I said it in a way that sounds jokey, but Dunk smothers a snort: he gets how brutal it is to champ a bloke on national television. I hope Oshy sees this.
‘One last question before we let you go,’ Katy says, shuffling some papers.
‘Two weeks ahead is the inaugural East Coast–West Coast Pride Round match between the Eagles and the Swans. Diversity and inclusion in the AFL have been hot topics for a while. Tell me, what does it mean to be part of that initiative? Are the boys getting around it?’
Even though Tessa prepared me, my body has a reaction to the question like a bomb just went off.
My ears are ringing and my face is hot. Clear thinking escapes me.
The whole country is judging my response to this question.
Some people will say I wasn’t supportive enough, some will say I was too supportive. Some might guess what I am.
And whoever sent me that DM knows for sure. Is he watching?
‘Stunning and brave,’ I blurt out.
The three faces on the panel spasm with confusion. Dunk’s mouth twitches, like he recognises the reference. But he remembers the camera and quickly goes neutral again.
‘Uh, how do you mean, exactly?’ Katy splutters.
Tessa must be swearing at her monitor as we speak. My brain has overdosed on adrenaline; it’s poisoned itself; I can’t form a proper response.
‘Just … ah … you know … family members of the LGB … Q … T …’ Fuck, I’ve forgotten the letters and their order. ‘That community … I think … they’re brave,’ I mutter incoherently. Sweat is beading on my forehead. ‘Diversity and inclusion … you know … it’s what footy’s all about, I guess …’
Katy glances at someone behind me. I’d bet a thousand bucks it’s the producer lady giving her the ‘wind this up’ signal.
Before Katy can put me out of my misery, the third panellist, Paul Hardwick, speaks up. Hardwick’s an experienced, hard-nosed footy journo with glasses and the one person on the panel who isn’t an ex-player.
‘Can I circle back to your first response, Hammer?’ Hardwick asks. ‘“Stunning and brave” is a reference to South Park, isn’t it?’
Shit.
‘Uh,’ I say. Tessa is gonna kill me.
‘You know South Park?’ Hardwick prods. ‘A notoriously provocative animated TV series?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ I say quickly.
‘So you’ve seen the episode I’m referring to,’ Hardwick says.
‘Yes,’ I say. Not like I can pretend I haven’t, after quoting it.
‘Then you’re aware “stunning and brave” has become an internet meme – a way for people to indicate contempt for something considered woke, without saying it?’
Katy’s staring between me and Hardwick, clearly thrown. Dunk’s knuckles are white.
‘Uh, that’s … not how I meant it, but,’ I say. Phew. Quick thinking.
‘Do you think there’s a need for this Pride Round, Hammer?’ Hardwick asks.
My mouth should not be allowed to operate without my brain’s involvement, but I’ve lost the ability to rationalise.
‘Look, I just wanna play footy,’ I say. ‘I wanna focus on footy. I think I speak for a lot of players when I say that. I don’t think we need a special round for everyone and anyone. Where does it stop? Where’s the straight pride round, you know? I think every round should just be Footy Round.’
In my head, I always imagined an audience cheering if me or anyone else had the balls to say that in public.
Instead, there’s an agonising silence all through the studio.
Hardwick’s eyes glisten at me like he’s won the lotto. ‘Do you think gay men belong in AFL football?’
I grimace. It’s automatic. ‘Not really, no,’ I say. ‘I don’t hate anyone. I just don’t get why it’s being shoved down our throats.’
‘Right,’ Hardwick says. ‘So, it would be fair to say you think the AFL is too woke?’
‘Understatement of the century,’ I say.
‘How do you reconcile that with pulling on the club’s inaugural Pride Guernsey next weekend, then?’ Hardwick asks, an arrow through the heart.
‘Well, I’m not gonna wear it,’ I say flatly.
Hardwick leans back in his seat, his mouth a serious line but his eyes twinkling behind his specs.
‘Diversity and inclusion are indeed so important in the AFL, Hammer, yes,’ Katy interrupts, in a glossy newscaster voice.
For a second, I wonder how she’s totally misunderstood me, but when I lock eyes with her, I realise she’s trying to save my arse.
‘Such a great comment you made earlier about bravery from LGBTQIA+ people, which I think we all recognise the AFL wants to celebrate. Thanks for joining us on The Footy Bounce today!’
‘Cheers, Katy,’ I say, but my mic has already been turned off.
‘Coming up next, the match preview for today’s clash between the Doggies and Hawthorn – stay with us.’ Katy beams into the camera.
There’s a long pause, then a cameraman says, ‘We’re clear.’
Hardwick immediately sidles up beside me to ask me another question, but before he can, both Katy and Dunk pounce on him.
‘What the hell, Paul?’ Katy snaps. ‘Hanging him out to dry like that?’
‘Dog act,’ Dunk mutters. He looks at me. ‘Sorry, kiddo.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Katy adds, to me. ‘That question was not meant to be an ambush.’
Hardwick holds his hands up against both of them. ‘I’m a journalist, and I sniffed a story,’ he says. He smiles at me, ear to ear. ‘And it looks like we have a big one.’
My brain is still not functioning. The tech dude comes over and rips the mic roughly off my collar without looking me in the eye. It’s not like I said anything that bad, is it? I didn’t call anyone a faggot. I can’t get suspended for this, can I?
Usually, I would shake hands with the panellists, but Dunk and Katy are in an almost-shouting match with Hardwick, so the producer lady comes back to escort me out.
Tessa’s standing at the back of the studio, her face sheet-white as she nods solemnly with her phone to her ear. Uh oh.
As we pass the camera, the cameraman says to me, ‘Twenty-four is a hell of an age to ruin your career by being a homophobe.’
I stop in my tracks. I can’t believe he said that. I look at the producer lady to defend me. She tightens her mouth and raises her eyebrows at me like a schoolteacher.
I scowl at the cameraman and feel a darkness inside me pulsate out into the world. ‘Newsflash, mate,’ I say, ‘you’re on the wrong side of the camera for anyone to give a shit what you think.’
DM #2
Saw u on Fox Footy, Big Dog.
Now everyone’s seen what u are. But nobody knows what I know, do they?
I think u should walk back ur comments & apologise for what u said in that interview.
If u don’t, ur about to become the AFL’s first openly gay male player.
And not by choice.
Your Worst Nightmare