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So it’s very real.
It’s the Super Bowl.
We’re matched up against Philadelphia again. Although we’re favored to win, we’re down 14-24 at halftime, and the pressure is immense.
Everyone not only expects us to win.
Too many need us to win.
It’s not just the victory that matters to so many. It’s the legacy we’ll create for generations, for everyone like me and Colt.
I stand by the locker assigned to me, and I stretch, trying to breathe through the stress, the expectation that I’ll lead us there. I keep my muscles warm. That’s what I usually do during halftime, but the halftime of the Super Bowl is longer, and the extra minutes are torture.
We can distract ourselves. We can watch the halftime show on the flatscreens in the locker room.
I glance up at the screen to my left and watch as the lights drop in the stadium. The singer is about to take the stage.
It’s about to be an epic performance and not because the performer is the number-one-selling woman pop artist of all time who happens to date another NFL player.
It’s because she’s pulled off a last-minute wardrobe change. It’s because, in addition to her glittery Louboutin boots and signature Versace bodysuits, she stands in the spotlight, wearing a sparkling rainbow pride tailcoat.
Don’t ask me how she got it so fast, but she’s doing it. She’s taking the stage in strong support of me and Colt.
Of “The First Fourteen.”
That’s what they’re calling us—the first fourteen NFL players to come out as gay, bi, or queer.
Yes, a few have come out over the years, but not like this—not together, not as a movement, not before they play in the Super Bowl.
We waited until after our team’s morning at the hotel.
The Pact—that’s what Zar’s group informally calls itself—strategically selected ten reporters. They were invited, with their camera crews, to a meeting room rented in our team’s hotel.
Speculation flew as to what the impromptu, secret press conference was about.
Great lengths were taken to sneak the other players, who are not playing in the game, into the hotel and into the meeting room where reporters were waiting.
We wore black or white button-up shirts with black pants. No colors to signify teams or causes. Some suggested the pride colors, but we decided not today.
Today, we let our voices speak.
Nick went first and kept it short. Over the months, there will be more time to speak. We have group interviews, feature stories, documentaries, and more planned.
But today, it was simple.
The words were poignant and planned.
“There are almost seventeen hundred players, like us, in the NFL today,” Nick spoke into the microphone at the podium. “If our numbers match the world we live in, that means about one hundred men in the league are gay or bisexual. That means too many are in the closet. Too few are free. Until now.
“Today, we are the first fourteen players to say we are proud. We hope we inspire others to speak up, too. My name is Nick Barinov. I am one of many. I’m a football player and a proud gay man.”
Then, each player stood at the mic and proudly came out, too.
Colt and I went last.
“My name is Colton Hawke. I am one of many.” His voice didn’t waver. “I’m a football player and the son of a devoted mother. In her memory, I am proud to say I am a father and a bisexual man in love.”
Then I took the mic last. “My name is Beau Bronson. I am one of many.” I looked straight into the camera lens of the largest sports network in the world. “I’m a football player who’s always loved the game, and today, I’ll win the Super Bowl for everyone like me. For everyone proud of who they love. I am a bisexual man in a loving, committed partnership with Colton Hawke and Blair Monroe.”
