The quiet understated heroism of baseball player Billy Bean

Billy Bean and Jim Provenzano. photo: Rick Gerharter

Only the second major league baseball player to come out after retirement, Billy Bean was a pioneer in a subtle way. He played for different teams, had ups and downs and a pivotal later success. Bean died of Leukemia on August 6, and is survived by his husband, Greg Baker.

What he's known for most recently is bringing Major League Baseball into the 21st century as an ambassador for diversity and inclusion in the league. What did Bean accomplish? 

According to The Advocate, 19 baseball players have come out in the past few years. If Bean helped that happen, let's give him credit. And only this week, The Boston Red Sox Jarren Duran was suspended for two games after shouting an antigay epithet to a fan. He later issued an apology.

Life-changing
"Billy Bean was never a star," wrote John Casey for The Advocate. "in fact, his career statistics, spread over six years with four different teams, were what one player would record in just half a season - if he’d last that long. Bean’s career batting average was a paltry .219, so theoretically, anyone hitting .219 for half a season would most likely be benched."

An All-American outfielder twice, Bean led Loyola Marymount to the College World Series in 1986, and retired at age 31. After the coming out news subsided, Bean actually shied away from doing the lecture circuit until he was convinced by Judy Shepherd to take advantage of that his moment.

So, when MLB asked him to become a Senior Vice President for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, Bean returned to the sport he loved, and developed and implemented initiatives aimed at promoting DEI within the sport.

Billy Bean flying to catch a ball in the outfield

Maura McGurk, writing eloquently for OverTheMonster, recalled that she was at the Mariners game on Tuesday night [August 6] "when they announced Bean's death before the game and paused for a moment of remembrance. They were playing the Tigers, Bean’s first team. With all our recent trade-deadline talk about prospects, here’s one to note: Bean was one of those coveted prospects who couldn’t make it in the big leagues. 

"His résumé and early successes promised great things, and he started to deliver right away. In his first game, he rapped out four hits, tying a record for a player in his first MLB debut. Detroit fell in love with him. But from those attention-getting beginnings, he made only 519 plate appearances in 272 total games, and retired at 31 years old.

A double
debut
After coming out in 1999, Bean made headlines in the media. His cover feature in a late December issue of The Advocate, coincidentally featured –on the last editorial page– the first major review for my debut novel PINS about about high school wrestlers.

At the same time, Sports Complex, my syndicated column for the Bay Area Reporter and other publications and websites included a different sport each week. Although I had already interviewed dozens of major LGBTQ athletes as well as hundreds of team members in amateur leagues, I tried to get an interview with Bean. 

But at the time, when someone comes out big time, there's a kind of hierarchy. The cover story in The Advocate was published, as well as an extensive feature in The New York Times, where Robert Lipsyte told of Bean's multiple struggles in the sports industry while being closeted, even while he was briefly married to a woman. 

In the first rush of publicity, Bean's handlers rejected initial interview requests from smaller newspapers. Snub moi? We were in the same issue of The Advocate. I was a bit put off and should've perhaps requested a later interview. But by the time his memoir came out, I was onto other non-sporty work. 

Medals or Bullets: possible fates in fiction vs. reality

While many readers of my last two novels have asked for a third companion piece about the later lives of Reid Conniff and Everett Forrester, I have yet to write so much as a sentence of such a project. But with historic and contemporary events reflecting what could be parts of their lives, the ideas keep forming like distant clouds. And by noticing current events, the fate disabled character Everett could be become one of either athletic glory or fatality from the end of a police gun.

First the Paralympics return, following the Rio, Brazil Olympics. Already, controversies have begun.
 

The Brazilian edition of Vogue magazine published photos of two soap opera stars that had been Photoshopped to make them look like amputees.

In ads for the Rio Paralympics, able-bodied models were hired, and then their limbs were Photoshopped to make them resemble amputees. This MetroNews article explains.  

Action Figures

Sometimes, a version of an author's fictional characters can manifest into his or her real life, which is why I'm glad I don't write about zombies.

Since I started writing about aspects of disability, people who deal with various challenges have become friends and colleagues, and I've become a fan of their art.

Belo Cipriani at El Rio

As with my previous novel, I'd like to mention the terrific writers who blurbed my book, but who also did more. What's interesting is how the people who helped me write my last two books have stepped outside their comfort zones to push their boundaries.

Belo Cipriani is not only an author and educator. He's also a representative for Guide Dogs for the Blind. And he likes to entertain fans at readings.

Here's Belo at a Literary Death Match event a while back:

The Play's the Thing

So, I finally finished this project. Here's some PR:

The commissioned stage adaptation of Jim Provenzano's acclaimed debut novel, PINS, is available in paperback.

Reviews excerpts for the stage adaptation of PINS:

“Realistic and engaging.”
– SF Weekly

“Perceptive and honest.”
– SF Bay Guardian

“A fast-paced and imaginative production.” – Bay Area Reporter

“Provenzano shows great skill with naturalistic dialogue and a healthy dose of wry humor.”
– San Francisco Examiner

The Body Electric

Is Oscar Pistorius the Jesse Owens of disability eroticism? Or has Alex Minsky usurped his throne?

The survivor of an IUD while serving in the military in Afghanistan, Minsky's leg was blown off.
the main critique among online comments is that Minsky has "too many tattoos." Obviously no stranger to body modifications, post-injury, perhaps Minksy sees this as an opportunity. Perhaps he already had his surplus of body art and was already a bit of an exhibitionist.

Either way, modeling for Rufskin clothing in photos by Tom Cullis for the gay magazine DNA proves that Minksy is comfortable being viewed, and objectified, as a sex symbol by the gay male audience.

The conclusion is obvious. It doesn't matter if you're disabled. You can be perceived as sexy in media, so long as you're 'hot.' Minksy enjoys a trifecta of eroticization; underwear model, tattoo fan's wet dream, and disabled military hero-hunk.

But the human story of Minksy's injury three years ago, and his grueling recovery, are of course ignored on the plethera of porn tumblr blogs. Here's a feature article from his hometown newspaper, written shortly after his hospitalization.

Minsky's premiere in modeling bridges two very different worlds; the gay male sex-positive culture ready to welcome him into their arms - and beds - as a lustful icon, and the Orange County conservative military culture that honors his service, including an Elks Club that "adopted" him.

I find his transformation fascinating, but his youthful gaze, his innocence, pre-injury are what make him a more interesting, and thereby sexy, person.

Pistorius, the Olympian/Paralympian, a media darling this summer, is also gaining popularity as a model, and not just a model of "inspiration," as many say. He's selling cologne. Dressed up like a Xanadu muse, the runner glistens in glamorous glory as he pitches cologne in this commercial (YouTube link).

Going the Distance

So, although the narrator in Every Time I Think of You is a distance runner, there isn't a lot of competition in the novel. I conveniently set the book after Reid's final high school cross country season, with just a little bit of track team activity and a marathon in the spring.

Reid's evolution as a person, and his steadfast nature, are more reflected by his being someone who goes the distance, not as a stellar athlete, but as someone who perseveres. The athleticism serves a purpose, but it's not the main focus. Don't expect a lot of intense details on competitions.

Having spent so many years immersing myself in wrestling during the almost ten years spent developing PINS, I knew which sports the two main characters would pursue, but it wasn't just about their athleticism.

I also had made the choice not to mention the pivotal book The Front Runner, written by friend and mentor Patricia Nell Warren. Inserting a mention of what The New york times described as "the most moving, monumental love story ever written about gay life" is setting oneself up for failure by comparison.

Reid might have possibly found the book, as did I, in high school, at a shopping mall bookstore. It might have even changed his life in ways. But Patricia's novel is just too big to include. So would any mention of Reid's probably heroes like Steve Prefontaine.

There's a strange thing in literature I call "Novel World," where much of literary fiction either completely ignores the setting's media - TV films, books- or layers pop culture references, as in another classic, Don DeLillo's White Noise. A close read of PINS will reveal that novel's influence. I did a lot of that in PINS, in fact making the main characters the subject of the media. I chose not to do that in Every Time... with the exception of a few favorite pop songs of the era (thus the title).

Like the pure sport of running, with Every Time, I set out to create a "clean" novel, one that isn't derivative, isn't too dense, yet still maintains a level of symbolism and a different voice than my other work.

Of course, Reid would probably have loved this song!



(Photos were randomly chosen and are not meant to imply anything about the subjects.)

'Scuse Me While I Kiss the Sky

"A quadriplegic skydiver died in a tragic weekend accident when his disability prevented him from manually deploying his parachute. His emergency chute was also not set to automatically release, said officials on Monday.

Zack Fogle, 27, plunged 18,000 feet to his death on Saturday when his parachute did not open during a jump at a skydiving festival in northwestern Montana. Fogle, who had completed more than 125 jumps in the past five years." (read more)

Several news stories covered the tragedy here and elsewhere. Ability News combines links to several articles.

(Zach Fogle after a previous successful jump)

Why is this getting so much coverage? Is it because he was handsome? Yes. A quadriplegic? Yes. The angle is easy when non-disabled writers feel the need to justify or even judge Fogle's adventurous daredevil life.

One column stands out on The Stir. From writer Jeanne Sager:

"It could be inferred by the massive amount of media attention to Fogle's story that his handicapped status somehow made this tragedy different. It's certainly an interesting bit of information. The journalist in me admits it couldn't have been left out. When I read Fogle was unable to reach his emergency cord in time, I'll admit curiosity made me wonder, 'Did his lack of mobility play a role here?'"

"Zach Fogle decided he wanted to be a skydiver. He made that choice. It's very sad that he died while doing it. But he didn't die because he's a quadriplegic. He died because he's a guy who wanted to try a risky sport."

It's not just sad that a man who defied limitations died doing what he loved, and knew how to do expertly. It's sad that most people with no disabilities suffer from not living their lives to the fullest.

Fogle's motto was "Live to the point of tears."

Roll Models

I spent a lot of time considering the media representation, or over-representation of the "alpha crip." This isn't considered a derogatory term, and it's one I've read used in articles about high-achieving disabled athletes.

This web page includes brief bios of "roll models," men and women who have overcome a lot of obstacles, literally, to become their best selves. Among them is the amazing Rick Hansen of Vancouver, Canada, who wheeled 25,000 miles around the world in 1985 in a stunning two-year marathon through 34 countries. Hansen's Institute and PR efforts on behalf of spinal cord research have expanded the possibilities and public image of wheelchair users, specifically in athletics.

While the reality is that the majority of disabled people are economically underprivileged and not athletic, I took into account that Everett was a high-achieving athlete and scholar before we meet him in Every Time I Think of You. Reasonably, despite his bouts of self-doubt, anger and depression, he does come to regain much of his energy and interest in athletics, albeit in a different sport. Hopefully, he can be seen as a "roll model," even if he is a fictional one.