Globall-ization: How the War of Words Hurts Gay Jocks
Athletics are a global phenomenon often used as a political football
for nationalist politics. Some cultural theorists agree that team sports
are basically a substitute for war.
As GLBT sports groups and individuals focus their summer 2006 plans on
Gay Games VII in Chicago or Rendez-Vous 2006 in Montreal, will we be split
across borders, like the 1980 and 1984 Olympics, when world politics
forced a schism between U.S. athletes and now-former Soviet countries?
In press releases celebrating the European Gay and Lesbian Sports
Foundation (EGLSF) leaving the Federation of Gay Games (FGG), Montreal’s
representatives ignored the fact that the EGLSF still supports the
official Gay Games.
"The EGLSF does not approve of having two major international
sporting events in 2006," wrote the EGLSF’s Martin Nyborg in
response. "Leaving the Federation of Gay Games does not mean that
[we] will not cooperate with future hosts of Gay Games. The EGLSF will
continue to encourage athletes to participate in international gay and
lesbian sport events."
Montreal tossed out yet another volley. A March 16 article in Quebec’s
La Presse quoted Rendez-Vous CEO Louise Roy, who called the Gay Games
merely "an American trademark. I think it’s the end for them. We
would have liked to come to an agreement with them. We tried, but it didn’t
work."
Chicago Games, Inc.’s Executive Committee responded. "The Gay
Games are an international event with a legacy going back to 1982,"
the committee wrote in an open letter to Montreal. "Though founded by
a few visionaries in San Francisco, a review of its Board of Directors or
participants shows its strong international nature. Athletes from all over
the world—including from Montreal—have already announced their plans
to attend Gay Games VII. Contrary to published negative remarks, we are
right on time with our planning and production. We look forward to working
with sports and culture organizations, including our partners in
Europe."
Montreal hopes to capture the European "market." Their
bilingual province may have an edge, financially and politically, with
even a new sports group, the Gay and Lesbian Inter-national Sport
Association (GLISA), whose "core principles of participation,
inclusion and personal best," mimic those of the Federation. Yet
GLISA is supported by a for-profit corporation, Montreal 2006, which, in
turn, is funded by Tourism Montreal.
After calling the Federation "an undemocratic, process-oriented
organisation run by a handful of individual directors consumed with
preserving their own image of the Gay Games," subsequent press
releases for GLISA claimed no connection to Montreal 2006. Its membership
remains selective.
With a shaky foundation of accusations and revisionist spin, how is
GLISA any better than the Federation? Is Montreal so threatened by Gay
Games VII that they need to assert an unproven superiority?
In March, Montreal issued a statement saying "American gays and
lesbians are being subjected to unprecedented attacks on their civil
rights," and blamed the Federation for "deliberately dividing
the American community against itself."
Montreal’s new athletic committee offers a veil of legitimacy, but
embodies the tactics that critics of the Bush administration cite:
pre-emptive strikes and misinformation. Their divisive comments are
misdirected at athletes in cities and towns across America. Montreal
appears bent on fueling a U.S. boycott.
This may hurt the diversity of Chicago’s Games. Meeting athletes from
around the world was the best part of the past two Gay Games, where I
covered sports events from morning to nightfall.
Most athletes spoke English, but some felt more at ease being
interviewed in their own languages, like Alfredo, a shy swimmer from
Spain. This, I realized, is why I toiled in foreign-language classes. This
is why I came: to cheer Tasmanian ruggers, to meet Croatian tennis
players, to flirt with the fabulous Thai volleyball team, and to greet a
lone swimmer from Brazil.
Despite its history of financial losses, the Gay Games still embody the
goals of Tom Waddell, a former Olympian whose dream helped inspire
thousands of athletes. That dream wasn’t accomplished without the
all-volunteer board.
At one moment in Sydney, I sat on the grassy field at closing
ceremonies, parked between my newfound German wrestler pals and a cluster
of athletes from Italy. As Alice Hoglan, the mother of 9/11 victim and
rugby player Mark Bingham, spoke of her son, a flurry of trilingual
explanations passed between us. Despite an overload of news, some still
hadn’t heard his story.
And only last month, watching TV news reports from the rainy streets of
Madrid, as a third of Spain’s citizens protested the March 11 train
bombings, I felt sure that under one of those umbrellas was that aspiring
swimmer I’d met years ago on the other side of the planet.
While some Midwesterners may have a less-than-worldly perspective, they
will open their homes and hearts to visitors, crossing the divide forced
upon us by our current administration and global discord.
Let our athletics movement transcend the spreading of lies, and instead
celebrate, simply, the shedding of sweat.
Jim Provenzano, the author of the novels PINS and Monkey Suits, can
be reached at