Gay League Hits Myths Out of the Ballpark

Michael Schneider sits in the dugout at Van Nuys Sherman Oaks Park with his buddies, recalling the times he played Little League baseball as a kid in Detroit.

As an adult, Schneider both missed the competition and was looking for a way to stay fit. He was determined to play sports again, but he didn’t see any teams or leagues he liked--until he came across the Los Angeles Batboys, a softball team made up of gay men.

“I love the sport and I needed to get some exercise back in my life,” said Schneider, 43. “Playing on this team has really helped me appreciate the sport and who I am.”

It’s Schneider’s turn to step up to the plate during a recent Sunday afternoon game. First pitch is swung on and missed. Strike 1.

Second pitch is also swung on and missed. Strike 2.

The pitcher pauses for a moment, then throws the ball. Schneider swings, and blasts it to right field. He rounds the bases and lands on third. The next batter hits a single, sending him home. Teammates congratulate him with high fives. Some hug him, and one bestows a kiss.

The Batboys are one of 31 teams in the Greater Los Angeles Softball Assn., a gay league established 21 years ago. The league has played in the Valley since 1989.

*

Some see the ballclub largely as a place to meet other gay men and socialize. Others see it as a welcome alternative to the gay bar scene.

For Jose Garcia of North Hollywood, it was a matter of finding out what it was like to play a sport for the first time. As a youth, he was considered antisocial. His Gothic-style makeup and wild hair made him look more like a member of the Trenchcoat Mafia than an athlete, he said. But, after watching a few games with his partner, Freddie Mendoza, the couple decided to join the Batboys team.

“It was weird seeing all those gay men playing ball the first time I watched,” Garcia, 31, said as he rested under a tree after his team took a recent loss. “People assume that if you’re gay, you don’t play sports. We throw a curveball into that stereotype.”

The L.A. softball association is part of a larger national alliance of gay softball teams, which began in 1977 with teams in San Francisco and New York.

Gay tournaments are held throughout the country. There’s even a Gay World Series held annually as the country’s top teams battle for bragging rights. Last year, the Los Angeles Stray Cats won their fifth straight title in the national league’s top division.

“It’s important for members of the gay community to get involved in sports for a sense of self-worth,” said Mark Springer, the league’s coordinator. “It’s just an outlet for them to do something other than going to bars or clubs.”

For veterans of the league, such as Mario Valdez of East Los Angeles, softball games sometimes evoke painful memories of teammates who lost their battle against AIDS.

“These guys are like brothers to me, so it hurts here to remember them,” Valdez, 39, said as he placed his hand over his heart. “You miss them, but you realize life goes on.”

Fans sitting in the stands root for their favorite teams with loud--and sometimes crude--cheers. The atmosphere is usually friendly, as families picnic and children chase each other just yards from where the gay teams play ball. Curious passersby stroll near the action, glance at the game and keep walking.

“The Valley is definitely open to having gay people around,” Springer said. “I see more fighting and arguments among the teams that I have from outsiders.”

Across the park at another softball field, the Los Angeles Bandits remain winless nine weeks into the season. Despite their dismal 0-9 record, the players continue to take the field with a smile. As the newest addition to the league, they didn’t expect to be contenders.

“It would be nice to win a game, but playing out here is more about having fun,” said Charles Quintana, 37, of Los Angeles.

Softball player Steven Guzman isn’t gay, but he’s often referred to as the “honorary homosexual” on the Mayan Warriors team. Guzman, 23, recently moved to Southern California from Jersey City, where he played in a straight league. He said he joined the gay team to simply meet others who enjoy sports, and drives a couple hours from his home near Palm Springs to play ball in the Valley.

“Gay or straight, it doesn’t matter to me, as long as people have a love for the game,” Guzman said as he prepared for a recent game. “These are some of the toughest guys I’ve ever played ball with.”

*

Some of the gay ballplayers, such as Martin Alatorre, used to play for straight leagues, but said they prefer the relaxed atmosphere of a gay league.

“When heterosexual men think of baseball, they get very macho, but in a gay league you simply play to your ability and nobody ridicules you,” Alatorre, 21, of Hollywood said during a recent pregame practice with the Bandits.

Like most straight teams, the gay ballplayers wear brightly colored uniforms and practice at least once a week before playing every Sunday. To raise money, the gay teams get local businesses, gay bars and health agencies to sponsor them. One team is sponsored by a gay bathhouse.

Some players say it’s a sense of pride that keeps them connected to the gay softball league.

“There’s a sense of identity and history that lends itself to the league,” Quintana said. “I’m much more comfortable being around others who have shared similar life situations.”

When Martin Madrigal told his family that he joined the Mayan Warriors softball team last year, one older brother suggested that he play with dolls instead.

“Unfortunately, because we’re gay, people don’t expect us to play sports,” said Madrigal, 32, of West Covina. “I’m glad I proved that myth wrong . . . because playing softball has played such a large role in finding out who I am.”