The pro basketball season kicked off this week and one man is not sitting on the bench of any of the 30 teams. His name is Jason Collins.
Collins, 34, a 7-foot center, made history in late April when he came out as a gay man in an essay for Sports Illustrated . At the time, he noted that his contract was up and was uncertain about his future. The last team he played for was the Washington Wizards.
"Now I'm a free agent, literally and figuratively," Collins wrote. "I've reached that enviable state in life in which I can do pretty much what I want. And what I want is to continue to play basketball. I still love the game, and I still have something to offer. My coaches and teammates recognize that. At the same time, I want to be genuine and authentic and truthful."
In fact, in the days immediately after his essay appeared online and shook up the sports world, reaction from NBA players, other athletes, and coaches was overwhelmingly positive. There was every reason to expect that by the time pre-season training started, Collins would be on a team. Some people thought he might be a good fit with the Bay Area's Golden State Warriors, where taller players have long been needed. As an added bonus, the Warriors happen to have an openly gay man in the front office: Rick Welts, the team's chief operating officer. Welts himself had come out in 2011 and also received a largely positive reaction. Plus, the Bay Area is one of the most gay-friendly regions on the planet. Collins would fit right in. Media reports over the ensuing months have speculated whether a team would sign him.
Now we know.
No team did.
This does not mean Collins is going back into the closet. Far from it; he has used his newfound celebrity to speak out and make appearances across the country, including the Human Rights Campaign's dinner in San Francisco a couple weeks ago. But he is being marginalized. He is not working in his profession. He is shut out from any possibility of endorsements. And let's be clear, while there's no indication of a big market for Collins �" he is not a star like the Warriors' Stephen Curry �" the 30 NBA teams, by virtue of their inaction, are denying him income, exposure, playing time, and the opportunity for more conversations about equality that come with him. He is now relegated to "former NBA player," rather than, "current NBA player." And that's a huge difference. That doesn't diminish Collins's story or his coming out. But when he came out in April he was a current player.
He's not one now.
He should be.
We're certainly not privy to the inner workings of pro basketball teams. In his essay, Collins wrote of being called a pro's pro for his team. His career spanned 12 years and six teams. He played college ball at Stanford.
The failure of the NBA to retain Collins has not gone unnoticed in the media. Harvey Araton wrote a terrific article in the New York Times earlier this month that examined why teams might not want Collins. Much of it comes down to economics and new penalties for teams exceeding the luxury tax threshold. Araton wrote, "Collins acknowledged that signing younger players would be more prudent financially, but he asked how experience could be discounted in such a competitive sport."
But there was also a hint of possible unease with an NBA team signing the league's only out gay player.
Araton also noted that the "NBA has long prided itself on being socially progressive as it is diverse ..." He quoted sports industry watchdog Richard Lapchick, who said at the time of Collins's announcement, "I do think it's important for him to be in the league as a visible symbol. If he makes this courageous stand but then disappears from the locker room, it would not do it justice."
That's where Collins is now, outside the locker room looking in. It's not a great place to be, from his perspective. "Having declared who exactly he is, he just wants to be who he was," Araton wrote.
If no NBA team is going to sign Collins, the commissioner's office needs to find a job for him. He is that important to the NBA's future, and to the LGBT community's future. Collectively the community yearned for an active male player in one of the four professional sports to come out. Collins did, but he was not the first. That distinction probably belongs to the late Oakland A's player Glenn Burke, whose sexual orientation was an open secret when he was in the league and who came out in 1982. But Burke's circumstances were different, and media coverage was in a different era. Collins is a pioneer. He deserves to be treated in a manner markedly different �" and better �" than he's being treated now.