Disunited: HALF PRICE this week

The nice people at Stonewall UK, in conjunction with bookmakers Paddy Power, have launched a campaign to challenge footballers to support gay players. They’ve sent out rainbow laces to every footballer in 134 clubs across the UK, and want them all to wear the laces in next weekend’s matches. The campaign slogan is “Right Behind Gay Footballers” (see #RBGF on Twitter) and the campaign has the vocal support of current QPR footballer Joey Barton.

This is a fascinating and potentially cunning campaign. I can’t wait to see the results: will anyone wear the laces? And if they do, what will the reaction be from their teammates, and opponents, and the people in the stands?

And also, will mainstream media talk about any of this?

Homophobia in football — and especially the prospect of an out gay footballer playing at the top level in the UK — are issues close to my heart: see numerous blog posts and of course my comic novel, Disunited. My prediction that a player would come out over the summer break didn’t come true, but maybe this campaign could be the trigger for someone. I hope so.

You might wonder, since I wrote Disunited, whether I knew about the campaign in advance. I didn’t, but I certainly support it. (Interestingly, rainbow laces was an idea considered for the Disunited cover.)

Anyway, in a gibbering fit of excitement as a result of this campaign I’ve decided, for this week only, to halve the price for Disunited for Kindle owners.

New Kindle prices:

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The FA is to blame for discrimination in football

Dear David Bernstein,

You must have a splendid view from up there, perched atop football’s pyramid as Chairman of the Football Association — at least until Greg Dyke replaces you in July. I wonder how the state of the game looks to you? The top clubs are awash with cash, the players are paid weekly fortunes, and the grounds are full — in the Premier League, anyway. Lower down the divisions, teams aren’t so lucky. The national team recently beat San Marino 8-0, which would be cause for celebration if only a team existed that couldn’t beat San Marino 8-0, and struggling to a 1-1 draw against lowly Montenegro hardly fills any England supporter with confidence for the Brazil World Cup next year.

As you edge towards the door marked Exit, you must be thinking about legacy. Have I left the game in better shape than I found it? What changes did I make to have a positive effect on players, on coaches, on clubs, at every tier of football?

Derived from photo at https://www.facebook.com/therobbierogersI hope you read today’s interview in the Guardian with Robbie Rogers. Any thoughts you might have had about how well you’ve tackled discrimination should be banished utterly, replaced by shame.

Watch the video. Look into his eyes as he talks about “the homophobic culture” within the game. How he, plainly, wants to keep playing. In the printed interview, he says: “Most days I wake up and I go to my computer and look at my emails and then go onto the football sites. Football will always be part of me.”

You shouldn’t need me to tell you this: you need players like Robbie Rogers in football. Positive role models. Articulate, intelligent, passionate, thoughtful. Not thugs and bullies, in and out of car showrooms, in and out of trouble, in and out of court.

Why have you driven Rogers away from the game? Why is he allowed to retire, and the others given every incentive to keep playing? Why has nothing been done about the homophobic culture pervading the sport?

Oh, yes, you’ve written an action plan. You’ve made a few statements and partnered with other organisations, and “pledged full support” for the Football v Homophobia campaign. During February and March you “focused” on the issue, setting a goal of signing up 150 clubs to the campaign. So far, you’ve got 48.

So much for action. So much for leadership.

I’m sure you’re not a homophobe yourself. It’s a financial calculation, perhaps. Who’s driving the culture? The supporters. Who pays the bills? The supporters. You want them to keep paying ever-increasing ticket prices. You don’t want to alienate them.

I think it’s telling that the FA has taken four months and counting to “investigate” anti-semitism against Spurs fans by West Ham supporters. Are you, perhaps, waiting for everyone to forget about it?

It’s funny, isn’t it, how other sports don’t have this problem. Gareth Thomas came out and carried on playing rugby. Steven Davies came out and carried on playing cricket. Orlando Cruz came out and carried on boxing.

And yet still, nobody is out in football in this country. It cannot possibly be true that there are no gay footballers currently playing in the UK. But they don’t even feel happy talking in confidence to Robbie Rogers. They are scared. The culture of football — the sport you run — prevents them from being themselves.

Here’s what Robbie Rogers says in the interview:

“In football it’s obviously impossible to come out – because no-one has done it. No one. It’s crazy and sad.”

“I don’t think I would have been able to go training the next day. That would be so scary.”

“I might be strong enough but I don’t know if that’s really what I want. I’d just want to be a footballer.”

He just wants to play football. And he doesn’t feel he can. What a legacy.

I have some suggestions for you. Real actions you can take, with your colleagues in the Football League.

First, tie the behaviour of fans directly to a club’s position in the league. If an independent observer at a match identifies any discriminatory chanting or other actions, the club is punished with a severe points deduction. Further such behaviour results in further, increased deductions. (In cup matches, order replays or disqualifications.)

Second, any player, coach or official found to have made racist, homophobic or otherwise discriminatory statements on or off the pitch should be barred from the game in all formats, permanently. That is what “no tolerance” actually means. If that’s too strong, introduce a three-strikes rule and ever-increasing bans: eight matches, one season, life.

Third, if you’re looking for someone to present to the teams at the FA Cup Final in May, I hear Robbie Rogers is free.

Warm regards,

Anthony.

Appearing in print since 1976

captain-britain-meMy first appearance in print was in a Captain Britain comic in 1976. A less exciting debut than it sounds: I’d been to a event in London, met Stan Lee (praise be upon him) and got his autograph — plus Spider-Man’s — and was photographed holding up my copy of the recently published collection of origin stories, Bring on the Bad Guys. A few weeks later a black-and-white photo of my innocent young face appeared in Captain Britain issue ten.

I have several copies.

Almost ten years elapsed before I next graced the pages of a publication. This was Your Spectrum, one of the many computer magazines that flourished in the home computer boom of the mid-eighties. Proto-hacker that I was, I’d submitted an article about the recently released game Jet Set Willy II in which I’d worked out how to gain infinite lives and other exciting cheats. I also included a full map. As the game had only been out for a week or two at the time, I felt this was a mighty achievement worthy of celebration and payment.

An article duly appeared a few months later — curse magazine lead times — and my name appeared proudly against the piece surrounded by chirpy eighties italics. Sadly, it was the third of three credits: a couple of other writers had obviously been struck by the same idea. Very few of my words remained, but if you squinted you could see the article was derived from the text I’d given them. The head of the axe had been replaced, and so had the handle, but the strapping between them was unchanged, and it was all mine. And there I was, in print again.

I have several copies.

Fast-forward to today. I stand in WH Smith (other newsagents are available) leafing through the April 2013 issue of FourFourTwo magazine (other footballing magazines are available). I reach page twenty-five (other page numbers are available). And there, at the lower right, is a print review of Disunited.

It’s a very short piece, merely a brief precis and one sentence of commentary. It’s a shame there wasn’t space for a more in-depth review — and, selfishly, a cracking line I could lift for promotional purposes — but as an unknown author I’ll take what I can get in the magical world of mainstream media. It’s a decent review in print that 90,000 readers will see, and that’s no bad thing.

I didn’t buy a copy. I don’t want to make a habit out of it.

Out now: Disunited

DisunitedGood news, everyone! You can now buy Disunited for Kindle in the usual places, such as Amazon UK and Amazon US. It’s also available for Kobo, and via Lulu for other ePub-capable ereaders.

In the next few days, fingers crossed, the book will also be available for iPad, iPhone and iPod Touch on the Apple iBookstore. And within a week or so it should appear on Amazon in paperback form.

UPDATE Feb 1st: It’s also now available for iPad, iPhone and iPod Touch, and on Amazon in paperback.

As usual the cover has been designed by Blogshank. I love it.

The story’s just over 97,000 words in total and the paperback runs to 326 pages. Fans of Thora Hird, and I know there are many, will be delighted to learn that she does indeed make her traditional ceremonial appearance.

As always I’m grateful for any and all feedback, positive or negative. Feel free to leave reviews on Amazon or wherever you park your cursor. Tell your friends! Buy it for your family! Convince me I should narrate the audiobook!

But first, I’m going for a lie down.

Coming soon: Disunited

footballerA couple of years ago I wrote a short story — very short, only about 1500 words — set in the dusty office of the manager of a football club. A young, talented member of his team came to him with a confession: he was gay. More than that, he wanted to come out publicly. The story played out as an exchange between the two, with a not particularly twisty twist at the end.

It was inspired by the then-recent decision of FIFA, football’s world governing body, to award the 2018 World Cup to Russia and the 2022 World Cup to Qatar. For an organisation allegedly committed to stamping out discrimination in the game, the decision was and remains incomprehensible: homosexuality is barely tolerated in much of Russia, and is illegal in Qatar. It’s as if FIFA had awarded the World Cup of 1978 to South Africa, at the height of apartheid.

The player in my short story looked ahead to 2022, when he might be out, happily married, with kids — and playing for England. Would the FA not allow him to be selected, to avoid offending the hosts? Would Qatar turn him away at the airport, along with any other players that might be out by then? Of course not.

The authorities in Qatar could surely do nothing but let him and the others play, or risk the condemnation of the international community. They would have to let in his partner, if he had one. Any other action would be intolerable, and worthy of a boycott.

I’m sure that by 2022 this won’t be a hypothetical scenario. I’m convinced that there’ll be out gay male players in the top football leagues around the world, and it’s more likely than not that at least one of the 32 national teams in Qatar will field an out gay player.

But currently there are none at the highest levels of the game, nationally or internationally: the only out gay man currently playing is Anton Hysén, in the third division of the Swedish league. In Britain, the only out gay player so far has been Justin Fashanu, twenty years ago, in a different world.

I don’t believe this will remain the case for long. I think that within a year — possibly this summer, between seasons — someone playing in the English or Scottish Premier League will come out. I don’t know who, I don’t know where — I have no inside information — it just feels as if it will happen. A momentum seems to be building, almost as if a growing number of people are being let into a secret and then voicing their support without naming names. Eventually there’ll be a critical mass, a tipping point, and the unnamed player or players will come out. Perhaps: I don’t know.

But this gut feeling is why I’m in a hurry to publish my next book.

Called Disunited, it’s set at a football club I don’t name, in a city I don’t name, in the present day. It’s about a newly signed rising star of the game called Danny Prince who becomes — reluctantly — the first British player to come out since Fashanu. It’s my usual mix of humour and seriousness, and — in case you might be put off — it’s not a football book, full of arcane gags about the offside rule. The first top footballer who comes out in the UK today will face many struggles on and off the pitch — dealing with his teammates, his manager, and not least his supporters — but the story’s about universal human worries: loyalty, honesty, risks, relationships, and remaining true to yourself.

The book will be out in early February, which happily coincides with the Football v Homophobia month of action and LGBT history month. I’ll publish a sneak preview here when it’s available.

Or maybe a real-life player will beat me to it…

The equality wagon

road-sign

 

Reality is so much worse and so much better than advertised in the brochure.

It is forty years since any human looked up at Earth from the surface of the Moon and yet we are exploring the solar system and beyond, with automated probes dancing around the planets and near-autonomous robots poking around Martian rocks with an electro-nasal-trowel and a laser. We are an overpopulated planet greedy for moar of all the things and starting to pay the environmental price, and yet we can be in touch with (almost) anyone, (almost) anywhere, (almost) anytime, in ways that would astound and bemuse even our younger selves, let alone our candlelit, sheet-draped ancestors.

Some governments around the world still try to suppress or deny or punish homosexuality in every possible way, often with the tacit or active support of some religions. And yet other countries are hurtling along the motorway to full or near-full equality. Not altogether painlessly, it must be said. The equality wagon is moving at a hefty clip, but one wheel does have an alarming wobble and the windscreen wipers are scraping dry smears into the driver’s eye line.

And that’s why here in the UK we’re apparently heading for a classic British fudge over equal marriage. Worse than true equality, better than being mugged by a gang of rabid vicars.

If the bill passes as proposed, it’ll be a hodge-podge of opt-ins, quadruple locks and placatory flannel, ensuring — in fact, enshrining in law — that same-sex couples may be discriminated against by entire faiths or by individuals, in a kind of à la carte smorgasbigotry.

It’s a funny kind of equality.

But hey, we should be grateful, I suppose. In the UK every mile travelled in the last twenty years has been in the same direction: forward. The wagon lost its reverse gear just after Section 28.

This assumes, of course, that the bill passes. It looks certain to succeed in the House of Commons, despite the legions of Tory MPs trying to hurl javelins into the spokes. The House of Lords may prove a more formidable opponent, containing as it does not only older, traditionally more small-c conservative types, but also twenty-six bishops in the Church of England, who by gracious virtue of fudges passim still have a place in the legislature. The Lords Spiritual and Lords Temporal together might yet conspire to erect a diversion, like Wile E Coyote with an ACME hole-in-a-wall sticker, which our careering equality wagon might or might not successfully navigate unflattened.

Let’s assume the bill passes. What then?

It is surely inevitable that, one by one, the religious cul-de-sacs and chicanes will disappear in a series of highly contentious roadworks over years, perhaps decades. Some churches might even split into factions — it would hardly be unprecedented. The Church of England itself might schism, over this issue and women bishops, which gives me the excuse to chuck the word disestablishmentarianism into the blog as if I know what I’m talking about. In truth I cannot see the wagon stopping now, or U-turning — at least in the UK.

What’s also inevitable is that as homosexuality continues to become increasingly normalised in society — marriage being one of the last great gated communities closed to the equality wagon — then the final taboos become even more unsustainable. You never know: we might even see that most rare of creatures, an out gay footballer at the top of the game.

And on that subject I will have more to say…