OPINION
On Monday night Australian cricketer James Faulkner posted a photo on social media suggesting he was in a five-year relationship with "boyfriend" Rob Jubb.
Captioning the photo on both Instagram and Twitter, Faulkner wrote: "Birthday dinner with the boyfriend @robjubbsta and my mother @roslyn_carol_faulkner #togetherfor5years".
The messages of congratulations from Australia's cricketing community came thick and fast - a heartening sign of how the sporting world has progressed over recent years. Twenty20 cricketer Glenn Maxwell wrote: "Happy birthday mate! Great courage." Former Australian player Shaun Tait added: "Great courage mate, bet you feel better happy birthday."
However, it turns out that Faulkner isn't actually gay. He has since updated his caption to include "best mate" and in the wake of international media attention around his 'coming out', the 29-year old player took to social media to clarify: "There seems to be a misunderstanding about my post from last night. I am not gay, however it has been fantastic to see the support from and for the LBGT community."
He added: "Let's never forget love is love, however @robjubbsta is just a great friend. Last night marked five years of being house mates!"
Now, I feel like it’s important to preface this article by stating that platonic love between men should be championed and celebrated. Affection between men - yes, even sportsmen - should be seen as perfectly masculine and healthy and totally unworthy of gossip or speculation.
However, as a gay man, I felt Faulkner's post was hurtful for a number of reasons. Firstly, straight men pretending to be gay for a thigh-slapping laugh isn’t a new phenomenon - it’s something many queer men have to deal with in their everyday lives. Popular jocks do it in high school, married men do it after a few wines at work dinner parties, weird uncles do it at family barbecues.
It's hard to overstate the psychological ramifications of having a straight man ask you out on a date, only to realise that you're the butt of a wide-reaching high school joke. Not to sound dramatic, but it can take a whole bunch of therapy to realise that one straight guy's punchline doesn't define your sense of self-worth.
Believe me, I've worked my way through a few mental health plans.
Secondly, ball tampering jokes aside, cricket is a famously heterosexual sport. In fact, Faulkner would have been the first openly gay male Australian cricket player. And yes, these milestones are things our community celebrates, mostly because it has taken us SO long to get to a place where openly gay international sports stars can be accepted for their abilities instead of judged for their sexuality.
I hate to think of how many young gay kids (maybe even some who aspire to playing cricket) could have seen Faulkner's social media posts and taken from them some semblance of pride, only to have it snatched away the very next morning. I hate to think that it might create an ingrained skepticism; the belief that they can't take gay men or personal idols or future relationships at face value.
Thirdly, queer-baiting is something that members of the LGBTIQ+ community have to deal with while consuming media on a daily basis. For those down the back, queerbaiting is a marketing technique often used in fiction and entertainment which sees creators hint at, but then not actually depict, same-sex romance.
What a hoot, right?
Some of the TV shows famous for queerbaiting include the how-is-it-still-running Supernatural, whose writers have claimed they would realise the fan pairing of Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel if it "served the story"; BBC's Sherlock, where characters often mistake John Watson and Sherlock Holmes for a couple; and Rizzoli and Isles, whose production team has admitted to playing up a never-actually-addressed lesbian subtext.
Simply put, queer-baiting is exhausting and has no place on the social media feed of straight sportspeople.
Finally, coming out is inherently unfunny.
Being gay is something that people ruminate on for literally decades before working up the courage to share with family and friends. It's often a weight young people carry around while working their way through school; a dark secret that incites panic and anxiety and genuine fears of being disowned by their loved ones. I remember throwing up before coming out to my parents, the culmination of many years of soul-searching in silence.
It was an emotionally draining, ultimately renewing experience.
When Faulkner wrote his Instagram caption, it felt like he was punching down, and, as his apology would suggest, he was banking on laughs that never came.
This story has been updated from the original.
Samuel Leighton-Dore is a queer artist and writer based on the Gold Coast. You can follow him on twitter @SamLeightonDore.
