“Could be worse,” Daril said. “You could be living with the coach.”
“Yeah, imagine how much stricter he would be than me,” Sam said.
And Sam was strict enough.
“I guess I’m lucky to be stuck with you,” Micah said.
Sam beamed. “That’s the spirit! You can have apple juice and pretend it’s cider.”
Micah gave him the thumbs up.
“But I tell you what… we win on Saturday and you can have a shandy.”
“That would be worth more than the premiership,” Micah deadpanned.
Daril and Sam both gasped melodramatically.
“I thought I just told you there were some things you shouldn’t joke about?” Sam asked. “And the premiership, you never joke about that.”
“Bad form, Micah,” Daril said. But he grinned anyway.
Looking at his team, and the camaraderie he was starting to feel between them, along with the knowledge that he would be playing his first proper game in a few days, Micah realised that things were looking up.
“ALL HAIL the conquering hero,” Dane said as Micah crossed through the lounge room to go to bed. He’d showered at practise and was just looking forward to crawling under his doona with the air-conditioning turned up full bore.
So Sam had probably told the whole Mitchell clan that Micah was rostered to play. Everybody would have been happy for him, except for Dane the Downer. And it was only a couple of hours ago Micah was thinking that he was finally starting to feel like he belonged here.
Anyway, he wasn’t going to let emo boy drag him back down into depression.
“Prepare the glitter cannons,” Micah said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Dane yelled after him.
Micah shut his bedroom door behind him, and blocked him out. At least in a couple of days he would be in another city. He couldn’t allow himself to think of it as “home” right now, or else he would never get on the plane and come back to Perth when he had to.
From the Reach Out, 2 March 2016
Out and About With Jasper Brunswick
Micah Johnson Returns Home, In a Traitor’s Colours!
OKAY, SO I’m joking (a little), but Micah Johnson, first out AFL football player from the beginning of his career, must know how Melburnians feel about their boys who play for other teams. It may be true that players like Johnson have no choice in the matter on which team they are drafted into, but neither does a Victorian supporter when it comes to dealing with traitors in their midst. They must be punished.
So if there is any ill will towards Johnson on the field this weekend, it will be hard to judge whether it is due to his sexuality or just because we never like the opposition. But rest assured, your usual homophobe will probably delight in using slurs against our young champ, who will be playing the first game of his career—just like those racists who claim to be booing Adam Goodes just because they think he’s a “sook.”
That is why we must forget Micah is wearing the colours of a West Australian team, which I cannot even bring myself to name. We must remember he is one of us, one of our queer community, and he is a trailblazer. Like Declan Tyler before him, Micah Johnson is putting himself on the line by being out and proud in an industry that chews and spits out even the most “normal” of men who play for it. The odds are stacked against Micah, but we need to give him our support.
Because he is playing for more than his team. He is also playing for us—the queers who were maybe picked last in their school’s PE classes, or weren’t even good at sport, or those who were but found themselves driven out by fear or reluctance to show their true selves to their teammates. Micah Johnson is proving that we can break stereotypes (if we want to), and he is also making it easier for more boys like him to take to the fields and know there is a precedent.
But we should also remember—he is only eighteen. It’s a heavy burden, being a symbol. Just ask Declan Tyler. But as the numbers of out gay athletes swell, they can only continue to make it easier for each other.
So good luck this weekend, Micah. We may not really want your team to win, but we want you to.
Chapter 5
“I MEAN, really, Jasper sounds almost human in that column,” Micah said.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Simon said immediately. The drabness of the hotel room behind him and Declan made them stand out in stark contrast.
Micah thought Dec was rolling his eyes. The glitches in the FaceTime connection almost missed it, but Micah saw the aftermath and he grinned.
“I thought he was your best friend now, Simon?” Micah asked.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer,” Simon said.
“Well, he can’t be much more closer when he’s shagging one of your friends.”
“Micah!” Simon cried.
“Don’t set him off,” Dec groaned. “Thanks, Micah.”
Simon quieted down. “I’m fine. Just, sometimes, it’s easy to fall into old habits.”
“He’s trying really hard,” Dec told Micah.
“Congratulations.”
“Are you being sarky?” Simon asked.
Dec grinned rather cheekily. “It’s funny how some people can’t recognise their chief trait when seen in others.”
“Hey!” Micah and Simon protested in unison.
Dec swung an arm around Simon, hugged him close, and kissed him on the temple. Now Simon rolled his eyes and Micah felt he had to close his as their brief moment of bliss felt far too private for an outsider to witness.
“So, what’s up, Micah?” Dec asked, his arm remaining around his partner.
“I have good news.”
“You’re coming back home!” Simon crowed.
Micah wished. “Well, in a way. For this weekend’s game. But I’ll also be playing.”
He was gratified when both men whooped in joy.
“That’s bloody fantastic,” Simon said. He looked at Dec and his face softened. “Are you crying?”
Dec quickly wiped at his eye. “Nope. But I’m damn proud.”
“He is crying,” Simon said in awe.
Seeing his mentor thus stricken, Micah felt himself tear up in response. “I just want to let you know, I’m here because of you.”