As a lifelong baseball fan who’s queer and a woman during Pride month, I feel conflicted on a level or two. It was challenging enough having been a mascot in college and later in a minor league baseball dugout for a Baltimore Orioles farm team experiencing whatever came out of the mouths of those players (including projectile tobacco), but these days seeing homophobic comments on social media when my hometown team the Philadelphia Phillies posts for Pride really chaps my ass.
Are we really out here trying to pretend baseball isn’t the gayest sport of all time? It’s frustrating to go around singing the praises of the City of Philadelphia and then have to be reminded that while the city is full of hardworking, passionate sports fans, some of them are homophobic idiots. Whenever I read those comments on social media, especially during Pride, it drives me nuts. “When is straight month?” It’s every fucking month, have you ever seen the Hallmark Channel?!
The Phillies post a standard-issue June 1 Pride post with the simple caption “Happy Pride Month!” (heart hands symbol). Cue the fragile snowflakes.
One commenter declared, “don’t you dare be homophobic knowing damn well you cheered as Garrett Stubbs poured champagne all over his bare chest, wearing nothing but overalls, while Cher’s ‘Believe’ played in the background.” Pretty soon he'll be guest dancing for the Savannah Bananas!
You might be a queer-coded team if actual QUEERTY.com is reporting on your playlist because your team is dancing and singing along to the one of the most iconic queer playlists in all of music (sorry, Jojo Siwa, it’s Chappell Roan)… reporting:
“Way to go, Phillies! The perennial World Series contender isn’t just embracing a gay pop favorite. They’re jamming out to an unabashed queer love song.
The Phillies tickled our gay little ears in 2022, when they adopted “Dancing on My Own” as their victory song. The National League champions bathed themselves in champagne and belted out the dance floor favorite all the way to Game 7 of the World Series.”
Philly fans used to wolf whistle San Francisco Giants ace Tim Lincecum for having hair that they thought was too long. Now, their own players have prized tresses. Imagine fans booing their king, Bryce Harper and one of the many zesty printed hairbands he wears on his long locks after he rounds the bases post-dinger. He’s not gay, he married his high school sweetheart, a college soccer player, but he’s achieved gay icon status as the object of the affections of all genders.
Let’s face it, if outsports.com crowned you as the “MLB’s sluttiest team” in gaysball, your city should stop projecting your hot-ass baseball pants fantasies in the comments section and just zip it. Your morbid curiosity about the gays only makes you seem more gay, and you’re already throwing hot dogs all over the goddamn stadium. Kyle Schwarber was an actual choir dance kid for fuck’s sake.
And your entire fandom sings the walkup song of your players in perfect pitch like it’s opening night of a Broadway musical, complete with a grand slam to end scene.
So chime down. You have Pride Night coming up. The Liberty Bell sign will be lit up in neon rainbows, Diana Ross and your fave Chappell Roan will be playing, guys will look sexy in those pants and it’s okay to look even if you’re not a chick. No one cares. Beating your chest and making idiot comments on social media doesn’t convince anyone you’re straighter. Go drink beer, watch ESPN and shut the fuck up. We don’t whine on social media pages that don’t celebrate Pride about how it’s Straighty Month the other 11 months of the year.