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Athletes
Find Acceptance on the Fields of Randall's Island By Sean Alfano
Gotham is one of several New York rugby clubs that are beginning to take advantage of Randall's grassy fields and recreational areas. Permits are easier to secure there than at Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, where older, more elite teams play. It's perfect for the Gotham Knights, which is a young emerging team. It's also appropriate for the team in another way. The island, like all islands, is surrounded by water and disconnected from the mainland. Randall's floats alone, far from the bustle of Manhattan. In this sense, it's a perfect metaphor for the gay male athlete - which all of the Knights are.
The Knights are New York City's first gay men's rugby team. Gay rugby clubs existed in San Francisco and Washington, as well as in England, before Gotham's formation. Mark Bingham, a star rugby player at the University of California at Berkeley and a founding member of the San Francisco club, met with other New York City rugby enthusiasts to form a team in fall 2001. Then Bingham died on Flight 93 on Sept. 11, 2001, in rural Pennsylvania. His death inspired his fellow rugby players to forge ahead with their idea.
"Many people have a stereotype of gay men that we all prance around in make-up and high heels," Catanio said. Stace Houk, the Knights' captain, said, "I actually enjoy changing people's view of what a gay man is supposed to be like." Houk, 36 and a former collegiate football player, enjoys challenging attitudes often repressed or ignored among gay males. When asked to specify the traits he seeks to unlock in his teammates, Houk, who began playing rugby last year, said, "Somewhere between animal and warrior."
Presently, the Knights compete in the men's club Division 3 of the Metropolitan New York Rugby Football Union, the governing body for more than 50 men's and women's club and college teams in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey. Because of their lack of experience, the Knights have yet to win a match. But is there added pressure to perform well because the team is gay? "We at least want to be taken seriously," said assistant coach Harold Bahr, who played for the Knights last year. "We have to hang in there and take our lumps." He emphasized that experience is crucial to improvement and added that the team has made great progress since their initial venture last spring. Before joining the Knights, Bahr played for Old Blue, a famous New York rugby club that competes in the highly competitive Super League, which features teams from across the United States. While a member of Old Blue, Bahr was never openly gay around his teammates. Though he said he enjoyed his time with Old Blue, Bahr was already looking for a gay team in the area. His search seemed futile until he saw an ad for the Knights during the Gay Pride Parade last June. He joined immediately. "It was liberating to play last fall and be myself," Bahr said. He decided he could serve the team better as a coach and earned his certification from USA Rugby in the off-season. "It's a dream to be able to coach," Bahr said of the Knights. "They probably have the best attitude of any team I've been with."
Cain, who lives in Connecticut, first encountered the upstart New York City team last year during a match against Danbury's local team. He noted how the Knights played hard until the end, refusing to be discouraged by the lopsided outcome. "I was impressed with their never-say-die attitude and offered my help as a coach."
In the macho, hetero-dominant rugby culture of England, where the sport originated, a gay team was "wholly unacceptable and illegal," according to Cain. But he doesn't view sexuality as an obstacle to achieving recognition. "If a guy has got the balls to put in his mouth guard and strap on his boots," Cain said, "he has my total respect." Cain and Mio Nitta, another assistant coach, are the only non-gay members of the Knights. For Nitta, the only woman on the team, the masculinity of the team was never in doubt. Still, Nitta, who played rugby at Tufts University near Boston, noted that people are actually more accepting of women playing rugby than of gay men. "When I tell people I played rugby, I hear, 'Wow, women play rugby? Do they have the same rules? Wow. That is so cool!'" she said. "Whereas when I tell people I am an assistant coach for a gay rugby team, I hear, 'Gay men and rugby?' and they just laugh in disbelief." In the second half of the game, the Knights fell further behind, eventually losing 44-6. The players limped to the sidelines; battered, but beaming with pride. Martin Smith, who played the back position for the Knights, endured his bruises and a near concussion with enthusiasm. "It's worth it," he said. "I feel so much more relaxed. Rugby completely takes all the stress from your week and puts it into someone’s pelvis." <Click here to watch video of the match and post-game celebration> After the game, the teams headed back to Manhattan to celebrate with pizza and beer at a bar in Chelsea. Players on both sides mingled, rehashed the game and sang bawdy rugby songs. All the violent collisions and icy stares were forgotten. As for the Bull Moose, which is new to the league, this was its first match against an all-gay club. The sexual orientation of the opponents may have crept into the trash talk, said Victor Drover, the Bull Moose's captain. "Immediately prior to the game, the trash talk goes away, and we get serious about the task at hand," Drover said. "Sexual orientation has nothing to do with it and is in fact the farthest thing from our minds." When asked how his team might react if a gay player joined, Drover, who has played rugby for more than a decade, said, "I don't know how likely this would be, but I think we could have a gay guy on the team, as long as he gave it his best effort on the pitch." The weekly matches are cathartic, allowing the men to rid their minds and bodies of a stressful workweek. One could assume the Knights also alleviate the stress of being gay in a straight world. "We aren't taking aggression out on the 'straight' man because of his stereotypes and name-calling," Catanio said. "We love the sport and love the camaraderie that comes with it. We are like a family or brotherhood. We take care of each other, on and off the field."
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he
two men kept silent as they crossed the Triborough Bridge, en
route to Randall's Island. Both Martin Smith and Brian Catanio are
men in their 20s who play for the 
