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The OutField: Out and under the radar

By Dan Woog

Brian Sims

√¢¬Ä¬®√¢¬Ä¬®√¢¬Ä¬®In 2000, a Bloomsburg University football teammate asked Brian Sims a question he'd half-expected for years: "Are you gay?"√¢¬Ä¬®Yes, the 6-foot, 260-pound defensive tackle replied.√¢¬Ä¬®The result was … nothing.√¢¬Ä¬®Well, that's not completely true. Several teammates wanted to make sure Sims felt OK emotionally. As the word of Sims' sexuality spread, a 6-foot-3-inch, 350-pound teammate sobbed, worried that at some point in the past he offended Sims. And when some players, drinking at a bar, heard someone else deriding "two fags on a date" – Sims and his boyfriend were eating nearby – they tossed the guy out the door.√¢¬Ä¬®But that was it. There were no team meetings. There was no publicity. Life continued as usual at the state school in north-central Pennsylvania.√¢¬Ä¬®No, that's not completely true either. The 2000 season was a bit unusual. The Huskies went 12-2, and reached the final game of the NCAA Division II national championship. It was a season to remember. But players and fans remember it today because of what the team accomplished on the field – not because of who dated whom off it.√¢¬Ä¬®Nearly a decade later, Sims has moved on with his life. He's gaining notice as a lawyer. He's a leader in the battle to add sexual orientation to Pennsylvania's hate crimes legislation. Athletically, he's moved from the gridiron to running marathons. Recently, he completed his first ultra-marathon: 50 miles in 24 hours.√¢¬Ä¬®Recalling the moment his teammate asked that portentous question, Sims says: √¢¬Ä¬®"I wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that the guys I lived with, and knew so well, would put the pieces together. I was never frightened of 'the question.' I knew someday I'd have to face it, but I'd never practiced what I would say. The first time I was asked, it was the first time I thought about how I'd answer."√¢¬Ä¬®His teammates, he says, handled the revelation "much better than I'd given them credit for. In hindsight, I realize they were ready to be supportive."√¢¬Ä¬®In hindsight too he wishes he'd come out earlier. However, he says, "I have no regrets. I have a great coming out story, in an area of the country people may not expect it."√¢¬Ä¬®Interestingly, though, Sims thinks that being on a very good football team, in a football-crazy state, may explain the low-key, positive reaction.√¢¬Ä¬®"That's what a team is all about: supporting everyone on it," he explains. √¢¬Ä¬®"I'd be lying if I didn't say that part of the reason (for his teammates' quick acceptance) was because I was good – a three-year starter, a leader.√¢¬Ä¬®"But everyone knew me well too. They knew I was a liberal, a Democrat, a feminist – my mother's a colonel in the army, how could I not be a feminist?! They knew I believed in the importance of tolerance and diversity, long before I came out. √¢¬Ä¬®"Despite our differences, we'd been through a lot together. Going through football camp is like pledging a fraternity every year. We had a lot in common, so this just wasn't a big deal."√¢¬Ä¬®Sims never asked anyone to be quiet about his sexuality, but the team was making its championship bid, so what might have been big news elsewhere faded into the background. √¢¬Ä¬®After graduation, Sims headed to Michigan State University and law school. He practiced disability insurance law and started his own firm. Today, though, he's following his true passion. Sims has a high-level job with the Philadelphia Bar Association – and is also chair of Gay and Lesbian Lawyers of Philadelphia, president of Equality Advocates of Pennsylvania and a fellow at the Center for Progressive Leadership.√¢¬Ä¬®Thanks in part to his positive experience at Bloomsburg, he is a positive advocate for change. "I don't have a chip on my shoulder," he notes. "I'm able to use the collaborative action that worked so well in football to get various organizations to come together to try to make progress."√¢¬Ä¬®His leadership in the gay rights arena has helped him make important contacts – and led to intriguing offers. This summer he was asked to throw out the first pitch at a Phillies game.√¢¬Ä¬®"I can't throw a baseball to save my life," Sims laughs. "But I practiced, and I got it across the plate. I was more nervous for that than I was for the bar exam."√¢¬Ä¬®But when the talk turns toward gay civil rights – or gay athletes – Sims turns serious.√¢¬Ä¬®Asked to describe his legacy, Sims counters: "I'm 30 years old. That's way too young to have a legacy. Ask me in 20 years. √¢¬Ä¬®"Being an out football player was great. I'm proud of it, and so are my 125 teammates. But I get plenty of e-mails from people who can't be out. It's still a problem for gay athletes.√¢¬Ä¬®"At some point, though, it won't be," he promises. "And it will happen sooner than most people think."√¢¬Ä¬®√¢¬Ä¬®√¢¬Ä¬®√¢¬Ä¬®√¢¬Ä¬® √¢¬Ä¬®

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