See you next year: why homophobia ended this Cubs fan's season | Chicago Cubs

See you next year: why homophobia ended this Cubs fan's season

My Cubs are that much deeper after trading for Daniel Murphy, but the second baseman’s homophobia is a dealbreaker for me

The last time I was at Wrigley Field, so was Daniel Murphy.

It was Chicago Cubs against the Washington Nationals, and it was a remarkable game. In his first home start since joining the Cubs, Cole Hamels took the mound to face off against Max Scherzer. Through eight innings, the Nationals put up just a single run while keeping the Cubs scoreless. They’d go on to score two more in the ninth just to be rocked by David Bote’s pinch-hit, two-out, two-strike walk-off grand slam. Murphy, for his part, went 1-for-4, accounting for the Nats’ only hit off of Hamels in the second inning in an otherwise forgettable performance.

Before that, I remember sitting in the Wrigley bleachers during Game 3 of the 2015 National League Championship Series. In the third inning, Murphy launched a home run into right-center field, landing just 20 feet in front of me. It was that series that he became known as a ‘Cubs killer’, a nickname earned as he led the Mets to the World Series, leaving Cubs fans like me to repeat that annual refrain: there’s always next year.

It may only be August, and the Cubs may very well have the best record in the National League, but this Cubs fan is ducking out just a bit early. Much like 2015, it’s because of Murphy, but for a very different reason: because he plays here now.

In 2014, Major League Baseball appointed Billy Bean its first ever “Ambassador for Inclusion”. Mostly forgettable during his playing days – and not to be confused with Oakland’s Billy Beane – he is best known for being the second former player to come out as gay, which he did in 1999. As Ambassador for Inclusion, Bean was tasked with helped guide players and teams to better understand and support members of the LGBT community. Professional sports had – and to a large extent, still has – a stigma associated with the idea of gay, lesbian and bisexual athletes. In the case of Bean and Glenn Burke, the first MLB player to come out as gay, they felt a need to remain closeted for fear of facing rejection by teammates, coaches, and fans. Bean didn’t want that to have to be the case anymore, and neither did the league.

As part of his work, Bean would shadow teams during 2015’s spring training. After he wrapped up his time hanging out with the Mets, a reporter caught up with players to see if they had any thoughts on the matter. Daniel Murphy did.

“I disagree with his lifestyle,” said Murphy. “I do disagree with the fact that Billy is a homosexual. That doesn’t mean I can’t still invest in him and get to know him. I don’t think the fact that someone is a homosexual should completely shut the door on investing in them in a relational aspect. Getting to know him. That, I would say, you can still accept them but I do disagree with the lifestyle, 100%.”

Bean responded to the comments in an extremely diplomatic post for MLB.com, saying that Murphy was “brave to share his feelings,” and express his own hope that Murphy would one day see things from his perspective. Murphy and the Mets, on the other hand, shut down further conversation on the matter, issuing a statement to that effect.

The truth is that saying you “disagree with the fact that [somebody] is a homosexual” is homophobic. It’s like somebody saying “I disagree with your hair,” “I disagree with your race,” or “I disagree with your gender”. In all three examples you can say that you don’t like someone’s hair, race or gender; but it’s not exactly yours to disagree with in terms of existence. The same goes for the statement, “I disagree with his lifestyle”. Being gay is no more of a “lifestyle” than being straight is, and treating it as such is honestly pretty demeaning to those of us in the LGBT community. It suggests that we’re lesser, that we’re broken, that we’re wrong for being who we are. It’s hurtful, plain and simple.

To his credit, Murphy apparently did stay in contact with Bean, and they even became friendly with one another. That’s great, and it shows how important that kind of dialogue can be. The question remains, however, does Murphy still “disagree with the fact that [Bean] is a homosexual?” And does he still “disagree with [Bean’s] lifestyle?” As Murphy hasn’t publicly addressed the controversy since, we have no choice but to assume that he does.

As a baseball fan, and specifically as a Cubs fan, Murphy’s addition to the team just felt like a punch to the gut – the same feeling I used to get when I was bullied in grade school and high school for “acting too queer”.

Murphy is certainly not the only professional athlete to hold anti-gay views, nor has he made the most inflammatory comments of those who have expressed them. For instance, Sean Newcomb, Trea Turner, and Josh Hader all recently found themselves in tough situations after their old, homophobic tweets were uncovered. Former player Torii Hunter has made repeated anti-gay comments, even recording an ad for a political candidate highlighting his anti-equality position on marriage. Another former player, Lance Berkman, recorded a radio ad urging the people of Houston to vote against the city’s LGBT non-discrimination ordinance.

So why is it that the Cubs, the team I’ve loved since I was a child, trading for Murphy is hitting me so hard? It’s simple: because there’s absolutely nothing extraordinary about those comments or that worldview. I’ve heard it hundreds if not thousands of times before, and so have others. For so long, so many of us were told that we were wrong, that we had an abnormal “lifestyle” that could just be dismissed or that we could just end if we wanted to. Some of us stayed closeted; others found themselves homeless, depressed, or suicidal. These messages are everywhere: from religious leaders, parents, family, classmates, co-workers, and other fans. Those cheering on Murphy’s acquisition and defending his past comments – I expressed frustration about the trade on social media and received dozens of responses from fellow Cubs fans telling me that they agree with his 2015 statement – reminded me of just how many people in the world still feel this way, and still see people like me as lesser.

As he joins the Cubs, Daniel Murphy has an opportunity to address these comments and create real change in the world. Other fans, young and old, look up to athletes. If he were to make a statement in support of LGBT people, he has the chance to change thousands of minds, to show the world that we can all become more empathetic with a little reflection, and to let people like me know that we’re valid human beings. Of course, he should only say that if he believes it; if he doesn’t, that’s fine. I just know that it would mean a lot to me, to be able to hold my wife’s hand on the way to the ballpark without worrying about whether one of the guys we’re there to cheer on sees us as equally deserving of love, legal protections, and our humanity.

But for now, in the meantime, I’m going to tune out in what I know is just a tiny and insignificant personal protest.

Good luck the rest of the season, Cubs, but for me this time around, there’s always next year.

ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7tbTEoKyaqpSerq96wqikaKugpL%2B1e5FpaHFnkaq0cH6SaJqhoZOWtLB5wq6ZrGWdoa9usMCnoJ6kXaLCs7zHsg%3D%3D