Damian Barr: ‘I never really hated sport – I just thought I did’

On my high school timetable I circled PE in thick black felt tip. Physical Education was a double period (we sniggered a lot at “period”). This allowed enough time for the torture of stripping before and showering after. Mr Barker, I’ll call him, made us play rugby with our tops off whatever the weather. This was Scotland not Spain. Not one boy questioned this “character-building”. I was lanky, spotty and speccy with limbs as thin as hockey sticks. I minced at the high jump, delicately scissoring over. Once or twice I managed to catch a volleyball in my face.

PE was compulsory for first and second years — those critical years when we competed to grow pubes, when voices broke and balls dropped. To try and “straighten me out” my Dad enrolled me for boxing: punch or be punched. After each bout you had to lie down and close your eyes waiting for the leather-clad medicine ball to thump into your stomach (this was in the era before abs). After a month my appendix burst. Meanwhile, my wee sister was further shaming me by winning medals and praise for football and hockey. When third year finally came, my mum wrote me a sick note about my asthma which I laminated. I didn’t enter the gym again until exams. Sport continued to scare me throughout my twenties. I convinced myself it was only for idiotic thugs. I restricted my weight-lifting to hardback books and only ever sprinted for a cab. Now, in my thirties, I am finally over not getting picked for a team.

What’s changed?

Me, certainly. I finally joined a gym to combat freelance laziness and a slowing metabolism and found I like being fitter and faster and stronger. This coincided with the joy of the Olympics, which has carried forward into the triumph of the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow. We have more out athletes than ever, with Tom Daley and Nicola Adams winning both medals and hearts. They are tearing down the last bastion of homophobia. Since coming out their performance has improved because they’re no longer wasting valuable energy concealing a vital part of themselves. I find these new role models all the more inspiring because they’ve come out so early in their careers. We also have amazing straight allies, like UFC Fighter Kyle Kingsbury, who stripped at a recent weigh-in to reveal a pair of pink pants emblazoned across the ass with “Legalize Gay”. The hyper-masc NFL league has its first out player in Michael Sam. Our team is growing every day and we will win.

I realise now I never really hated sport — I just thought I did. I was bullied off the pitch. I didn’t feel strong or fast enough. What I really hated then, and now, is the macho culture around sport, especially football. I hate the prizing of brawn over brains – the homophobia that’s an extension of sexism which values so-called masculine pursuits over so-called feminine ones. Now I allow myself to be a geek and a jock, hit the gym and the library, throw a ball and read a book.

Curling remains puzzling and rugby is distractingly hot but on September 8 I’ll be cycling from London to Brighton for Terrence Higgins Trust (you can sponsor me http://www.doitforcharity.com/dbarr). And I’ve even taken up boxing. This time, the gloves are staying on.

Damian Barr is the author of Maggie & Me (Bloomsbury, £7.99). Follow Damian on Twitter @Damian_Barr​.

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