We came to the Honey Bee so the whole family could be together. That’s what they seem to think.Īnd that’s why I’m hiding in the bathroom of this dingy bar-slash-restaurant before we’ve even been served dinner. I’m not out, so I shouldn’t get shiny things like happiness to play with. No matter how many times I say I need to be in a good place before bringing shit on my career, it all falls on deaf ears when it comes to my family. Last thing I want to do is yell out in the middle of the locker room, “Oh, by the way, I’m gayer than a leather daddy convention.” I don’t want to be the NHL’s first pancake. The NHL was one of the first leagues to support LGBTQ players with their You Can Play project, and yet not a single player has creaked open the closet door, and my career doesn’t need the added pressure of being the first one. I followed Matt’s story, and it wasn’t pretty.

It didn’t happen when Matt Jackson came out in the NFL a few months ago, and I have no delusion it’ll happen for hockey when my time comes. There’s more chance of me farting rainbows. My family-especially my ma-thinks if I come out to the world there’ll be a domino effect, and I won’t be the only gay guy in hockey for long. I mean, I know I’m not the good guy, either, but Ash and I didn’t deliberately set out to hurt each other. My boyfriend left me because he hated being referred to as my roommate all the time, and somehow, that makes me the bad guy.

I love my family, but for the love of Gretzky, they need to get over it. Like saying the words “I’m gay” to the entire world will somehow give me unicorn powers and I’ll start farting rainbows and scoring on the ice. There are only so many times I can hear that coming out will solve all my problems.

Deke by Eden Finley