Game, Set, Closet: The Struggles of Queerness in Men’s Tennis

In Challengers, former best friends turned adversaries Patrick and Art (Josh O’Connor and Mike Faist) sit on a sunlit New Rochelle tennis court, sweaty, ruined, and captivating. The sport’s queer undertones are clear as Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ score throbs like the climax of a 24-hour rave. Patrick waves a banana — firm, phallic, but full of potassium — at Art before taking a dramatic, throaty bite. While the film was a triumph for queer cinema and tennis lovers alike, there isn’t a real-life crossover. In fact, men’s tennis remains one of the few global sports without an openly gay player.

Even without the banana and Guadagnino’s sensual director’s eye, skin-tight tennis whites, glistening sweat droplets, and bellowing grunts are still the name of the game—something Grindr understands with its new, court-ready “Grunt” notification sound. It’s hard to envision something gayer than two guys whacking a ball back and forth, so what’s the root of the lack of representation? The other end of the tennis spectrum evokes visions of country clubs, stuffiness, conservative elitism, pearl necklaces — and not the fun kind, either. And beyond this: the riptide of homophobia. 

On a Reddit thread entitled “Are there any out gay male tennis players?” fans wonder about LGBTQ+ visibility with a mix of trepidation and speculation. There’s the ever-looming fear of heckling; the loss of lucrative sponsorships in a highly individual sport without the backing of a team; traveling to countries where being out and proud includes the specter of hostility and even violence. (Notably, the absence of LGBTQ+ representation at the elite male level stands in stark contrast to the women's game, where notably former players like Billie Jean King, Martina Navratilova, Amelie Mauresmo, and Daria Kasatkina have come out over the years.)

In many cases, the call is also coming from inside the house: a 2022 survey of the men’s Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) tour revealed that 75 percent of players had heard other players use homophobic slurs, prompting the tour to partner with You Can Play, an organization dedicated to advancing LGBTQ+ inclusion in sports. In addition to the devastatingly high percentage, the aforementioned survey also noted a "strong fear of rejection, isolation from others on tour, and loneliness" as being barriers to players' publicly disclosing their sexuality.

It was the reality for American player Brian Vahaly, who came out publicly in 2017 — a full decade after retiring from the sport. “I heard homophobic comments all the time in the locker room: to my face, behind my back,” he told The Telegraph in 2018. “That was just a part of the culture.” No matter how many rainbow flags or LGBTQ+ charities are involved, the persistence of homophobia in men’s sports can’t be ignored. It’s locker room culture; it’s fearful alpha males; it’s the jock archetype from high school, stronger and more vicious with age.

To state the obvious: It’s all a damn shame. Two men with ripped, lean bodies grunting and swinging their rackets is a beautiful thing that has no place in the closet. As with most things in life, it’s all a matter of time. It only takes one tennis player to say, “Fuck it!” and open the doors for those in his wake. (Or perhaps the Challengers effect is already in motion? All will be revealed!) Until then, we’ll always have the grunts.