I know you’re trying

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Sky Ferreira – Everything Is Embarrassing

I first interviewed Robbie Rogers in 2008. He was reclining, topless, on a pysio table, an icepack strapped to his thigh. We were watching an in-stadium feed of his coach holding a post-game press conference the room over.

Robbie told me about his tattoo commemorating an aunt who had died in a car accident a few miles away.

He spoke earnestly, calm but engaged, and enunciated well.

Robbie Rogers is handsome. When he smiles, which is frequently, he just may be gorgeous. He’s also courteous and kind. He’s the sort of guy mothers try to set up with their daughters.

Robbie Rogers is gay. On Sunday, I went and watched him play for the first time since he come out.

Here’s a history of gay soccer players: one English guy came out in 1990, was accused of rape, and killed himself. A handful of women are out. One guy in the Swedish fourth division is out. That’s it.

So this is kind of big news.

I’m a professional soccer journalist who doesn’t believe sports matter. They are culturally insignificant.

But as I walked out of the stadium where I first interviewed Rogers five years ago, my heart humming at 1 a.m. in the peacefully still night air, I was sure: Robbie Rogers’ story matters.

[Ghost EP.]

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