Chapter 30 Real Bloke
REAL BLOKE
HAMMER
‘… because I was trying to cover up … that I’m gay myself.’
You could hear a pin drop in the West Coast Eagles conference room. Nobody knows what to say.
Facing me at the table are Doug, my brother; Roo, the coach; Sniper, the captain; Wookie, my manager; Tessa, our publicist; and Oshy, my nemesis.
Wookie clears his throat and states the bleeding obvious. ‘This woulda been useful to tell us when the shit was hitting the fan, Hammer,’ he deadpans.
‘Yeah, my bad,’ I concede.
‘Well, mate, it explains a lot,’ Roo says.
‘You could’ve saved the club a lot of heat,’ Tessa says. ‘Not to mention your own reputation.’
‘Hang on, I think Hammer’s reputation is still golden,’ Wookie says. My contract negotiation is still foremost in his mind. ‘He’s your leading goalkicker, close to the top of the Coleman leaderboard, and he’s already shown his contrition, let’s not forget.’
‘My brother wasn’t ready to come out,’ Doug interjects. ‘You can’t fucken give him shit for not being ready.’
I love Doug for that. Not just for defending me, but for dropping the word fucken in a corporate meeting. The mechanic in the conference room.
‘Fair enough,’ Roo says, sharing a look with Sniper. ‘Hammer, we would’ve had your back if you’d told us.’
‘Hundred per cent,’ Oshy says.
‘Yeah, probably,’ I say. ‘But I didn’t know how people would take it.’
‘Way I see it,’ Sniper says. ‘You’ve always been one of the boys, and you always will be.’ He offers his hand to me. ‘Nothing changes that.’
I shake his hand. ‘Cheers, Skip.’
Tessa grabs her phone. ‘Well, this is ultimately an excellent outcome,’ she says.
‘We can spin something very negative into a massive positive.’ Her eyes are shining like she’s won the lotto: the same look Hardwick had when he first caught me out on air.
‘The first out AFL player, and he’s one of ours. ’
‘No,’ I say firmly. ‘I don’t want that.’
Tessa splays her hands, confused. ‘I don’t follow. You’re coming out, aren’t you?’
‘I wanna come out to the people who matter,’ I tell her.
‘My club, some teammates, my family. Not the public. Once people know, they treat you different. I don’t wanna be your diversity poster boy.
I still don’t want a Pride Guernsey, okay?
The rainbow thing doesn’t make me feel included: it makes me feel separate.
Or included in the wrong group. Like being gay means I’m different.
What makes me feel part of this team is pulling on the blue-and-gold Eagles jumper the same as everyone else.
Like Sniper said: one of the boys. That’s all I wanna be. ’
Tessa’s face falls. Her lotto win turned out to only be two bucks. ‘I mean, I understand if you choose not to come out and I respect that – it’s your life, not ours …’ she says, deflated. ‘But the Pride Guernsey is a club-wide initiative, not dictated by one player.’
Roo folds his arms. ‘Tess is right – we have an obligation to do these inclusion initiatives …’
‘Uh, isn’t that sorta mental?’ Doug interrupts. ‘If you’re the only club with a gay player and he’s point-blank telling you he doesn’t want it, shouldn’t you fucken listen?’
The room goes silent for a beat.
Sniper leans forward. ‘Big Hammer makes a good point, if ya ask me,’ he says.
Doug’s cheeks go pink. He’s always been bitter that of the two Hammersmith boys I got the cool nickname and everyone just calls him Doug. Sniper calling him Big Hammer at random means a lot to him.
‘I don’t mean to be rude, Hammer,’ Tessa says evenly, ‘but I’m genuinely confused why you still have an issue with the rainbow gear?’
I search for the words. ‘It represents something I’m not.’
‘But you are gay?’ Tessa prods.
‘I am,’ I say. ‘But I’m still, like, a real bloke. Dunno how else to say it. The rainbow stuff makes people see ya a certain way – like camp or whatever. That’s not me.’
‘I think our LGBT advisers would say the rainbow doesn’t automatically mean camp,’ Tessa counters.
‘But it does,’ I say. ‘You can say it doesn’t, but it does.
It’s like putting me in a Freo guernsey.
You got me all wrong if you do that. Makes me hell uncomfortable.
Like I wanna peel my skin off. I can’t explain it any better.
Like, I didn’t come out to make youse feel better.
I came out to make myself feel better. This rainbow shit doesn’t make me feel better. ’
Roo whistles, inclining his head at me as if to say touché. ‘Look, let’s not get hung up on details today when everything’s fresh,’ he says. He looks at me squarely. ‘Hammer, we’ll work together to find a way forward you’re comfortable with, okay, mate?’
‘You do that,’ Wookie says. ‘In the meantime, I’m glad the persecution of my client can be over. I’m sure he’d like to focus less on rainbow flags and more on winning a premiership flag.’
‘Are you going to tell the whole playing group?’ Roo asks.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ I say, wondering how Tank and Kingy would take it. ‘But if I do, I don’t want it filmed. No pity party. No soppy piano music. No …’
Tessa raises her hands in surrender and chuckles a bit, despite herself. ‘Okay, okay. We get it, Hammer. We get it.’
As we leave the conference room, Doug asks Sniper for a selfie, and while they’re busy, Wookie pulls me aside from everyone else and shakes my hand forcefully.
‘Takes big balls to do that, mate,’ Wookie says gruffly.
‘I don’t judge you for it. You be you. I’m just here to make you money.
That said, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t point out you might be offered brand sponsorships as the first gay AFL player.
It could be lucrative and repair your public image, too. Sure you don’t want that?’
‘Would rather be forced to play for GWS,’ I say flatly.
‘Nobody deserves that,’ Wookie says sleekly.
We both laugh.
Wookie winks at me. ‘We’ll still have to do something to make you the good guy. A photo op, something you don’t baulk at.’
‘Orright.’
‘And once you’re the golden boy again, we should angle for a sponsorship, make some cashola,’ Wookie goes on. ‘Nothing rainbow, I hear you. Something athletic, something Hammer. How’s that sound?’
‘Bang on, Wookie,’ I grin at him.
He gets me. One real conversation where I tell them all who I am, and people get me. I never thought anyone would get me like this. I thought it was impossible.
Wonder how much happier my life coulda been if I’d been able to say it from the start.
I’m getting into Doug’s Clubsport in the carpark when Oshy calls after me.
‘Might be a minute,’ I tell Doug.
‘No wuckers, I need a dart anyway,’ Doug replies, yanking his smokes out.
Oshy’s hands linger at his sides awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what to offer me since we already hugged it out at the end of the meeting.
‘What’s up, mate?’ I prod.
‘Dunno know how to say this, cos we haven’t always gotten along,’ Oshy says.
‘But I meant what I said in my post about Pride. Whether it’s your jam or not.
If there’s a gay player in our team, I said he’d be welcomed.
I do welcome you. If any of the boys give you shit, let me know and I’ll sort it out, okay? ’
‘You’re a good bloke, Oshy, but I don’t reckon it’ll be a problem,’ I say at once. ‘Nobody fucks with the Big Dog. If they do, I’ll handle it meself. You got me, champ?’
Oshy registers the champ like a footy boot to the teeth.
‘Loud and clear,’ he says. ‘Chief.’
I smirk at him, and he smirks back.