Review: Out of the Pocket by Bill Konigsberg

Originally posted at the deus ex machina complex (and other theories).

Out of the Pocket

Oh, Renay, you say. Not another coming out novel. Do we really need another one? Is it necessary to tread this ground over and over and over? Yes, cynical observer! It is necessary and will continue to be necessary until things like Day of Truth, which I will not link because I am against raising the Google Rank of complete bigots, cease to exist.

I put forward the claim that Bill Konigsberg was quite justified in this simple tale of misery, panic, change, and growth; these problems aren’t gone and he highlights many of the places in our society they still exist: high school is just one of them. They won’t be gone for a long time, especially in professional male sports. Konigsberg confronts the fact that yes, there are people that will out, and out proudly, and not regret their actions, and will do it to feel more important or gain something from another person’s suffering. Out of the Pocket reminded me of how people consider celebrities to be public property (see: Oh No They Didn’t!) in a way—if someone is in this particular social position, does it mean we deserve to know everything about them? This and more if you read this book with bonus subtle romance. Sign up now while supplies last!

Bobby Framingham is the star quarterback of the Durango Bulldogs, in the prime social spot of his senior year. He has high hopes for his future with different college football teams (although his dream is Stanford) and from the outside his life looks perfect. In reality, though, Bobby is dealing with his recent acceptance of being gay, affection from a girl he can’t respond to and his fears of telling the truth, problems at home he doesn’t quite understand and the fact that he’s the leader of his entire football team—not to mention he’s dealing with learning a tough new formation he can’t quite get a handle on. Bobby carries the weight of the teams successes and failures around on his shoulders and quite a bit of his self-esteem rides on how well he does on the field and the opinions his teammates and coach hold of him. Much of the drama comes from Bobby struggling with the masquerade of heterosexuality inside a social structure that expects him to fulfill a specific masculine role. Bobby’s future rides on getting into a good school with his football skills; he doesn’t know what being gay would mean, or how to be himself yet still play professionally. The “pocket” described in the title refers to the pocket of protection the quarterback has behind the offensive line of his teammates. When he’s outed by a selfish reporter looking for an easy in to university, shoved out of the metaphorical pocket of safety his life has afforded him, things quickly spiral out of control at school, at home and in the media.

I have started having a thing for sports books. I blame Chris Crutcher, who writes awesome stories about characters who enjoy sports and excel at them. I wasn’t as sure about this football story; I worried the metaphor might go too far, but there was no reason to bother because the story uses the sport as a vehicle for the other things going on. The sports talk did go over my head sometimes, especially during Bobby’s games—the tier formation he struggles with was hard to visualize, but easy enough for me to understand. Bobby fails to see the benefits and the support the formation provides him much like he confides in his homosexuality initially to all the wrong people who break his trust, shut him out and abuse the knowledge, instead of the people who could offer proper support. One of my favorite side characters was Carrie, beautiful and smart and totally ready to take her relationship with Bobby to the next level because Bobby was simply too afraid to trust her with the truth. She was headstrong, hilarious, just as confused as Bobby and equally as weird to people around Bobby who couldn’t understand their friendship.

Carrie was there. She hated football but sometimes she came to my games. She came up behind me and placed her chin on my neck. “That was one of the finest basketball games I’ve ever seen,” she said. I turned to her and smirked.
“Hockey,” I corrected.
“Look, I may be white, but the name-calling is totally out of place,” she said, kissing me on the cheek and heading toward her car. She’s so weird. I love her.

Everything in Bobby’s life seems to come to a head at the same time as his outing and dealing with the media; his relationship with Carrie and his teammates, the trouble at home, and the fact that Bobby meets someone. This romance, unexpected and sweet, didn’t overshadow anything else. It didn’t make his life harder; if anything, it’s part of Bobby’s support structure. I loved that his first relationship was portrayed so positively. It wasn’t perfect and Bobby was unsure of himself in a lot of ways, but it was a great way to show Bobby that he could be happy—that being gay didn’t have to mean he couldn’t love sports, since the other guy loved sports and played them, too.

About five minutes before the bell, as I walked toward the main doors, someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped, tense. I turned and saw it was Bryan. I tried to smile, but it probably wasn’t the best smile ever, because he looked concerned. “Oh my god, what happened?”
I looked at him and felt, for the first time in twenty-four hours, a slight slow in my heartbeat. Calm in the storm. I was so relieved to see his face. I told him the whole story, including how my mom freaked out, and he held my eye contact and listened to me. He told me that he was there for me, whatever I needed.

There is a lot of privilege in this book—privilege of being white, of being male, of being talented enough at a sport to make a career, but it’s really interesting to me that with all those things benefiting Bobby, his sexuality might keep him down outside his hometown, which is really intriguing—being gay in team sports is still such a stigma that not even white guys can get a free pass. In the end there’s no resolution for the point the book makes several times—openly gay players in professional team sports are non-existent. I’m not surprised to any degree about that, and it left me with a bittersweet feeling as I finished the story. That’s not a spoiler; it’s quite obvious there are no openly gay men in the NFL, for one thing—the entire world would have heard about it, more’s the pity that it would be news, but it trails from the book’s resolution like a drawn out question mark—even though he ends up content, does Bobby change his world? How long will it take him?

How long will it take us?

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2 comments

Jake said:

As a book, it has some real flaws: Mr. Konisberg must not be father: while Konigberg’s gets points for having the father react positively to the news his son, Bobby, is gay, it’s highly unlikely that either parent would welcome another, older gay male (Bryan) to their home without voicing SOME concern, at least to Bobby, about safe sex . The author makes the frequent rookie mistake of trying to cover too much ground with too many elements. The supportive (and essentially non-sexual romantic) older gay role model should have been the school counselor or the uncle of the Rahim character. The father’s illness and cancer treatment also took up space that could have been used to take the character to the end of the school year, where the readers could have learned that the Bobby character got recruited by a good Division III program like Occidental or a Division II school like UC San Diego, as an openly gay college football player, either totally plausible. Another unlikely and unrealistic plot point is the entire “outing” by the student reporter. In the text, the editor states the reporter “vouched” for his own story. No decent editor, even in high school, would allow a reporter to vouch for what he would know to be such a significant and personal detail as student (and particularly high school football quarterback) homosexuality). California has a written right to privacy law. Even if students don’t get all of these rights, that’s typically when the administration wants to do something like search their lockers in the interest of the ‘greater good’ – public safety. In this case, Bobby’s privacy would be a significant hurdle for the editor and/or faculty adviser (who would have clued in the principal) to just ignore, tape or no tape. Additionally, if the editor (or advisor) heard the total tape — and they would and should — they would hear Bobby state, quite clearly, “maybe we should turn that off.” A good reporter would also have prefaced the tape, ‘do you mind if I tape this.’ The first interview, at the cafeteria was not equally taped, so immediately that creates a problem — unless the author needs to (in time honored TV fashion) create and manufacture melodrama as an easy plot point to move his story along. Likewise, even if the oldest friend Bobby has is not really close why would he tell other team members, particularly the Dennis character that neither this friend nor Bobby is close to — except that the author needs the plot point. The author’s sports background adds realism to the locker room and main character’s narration. However, these details detract from the overall boo

posted on October 27th, 2009
Renay said:

@Jake So I am pretty sure we disagree errrrr on every point you’ve raised, actually!

You’re framing almost every point in absolutes, which by doing so discredits the feelings of people who have suffered through things like these and gotten, if not a happy ending, at least a positive one.

You say, “the parents wouldn’t do this”—I disagree, because I had parents who did it, and friends whose parents did it. You say, “the school wouldn’t have let this happen”—I disagree, because I worked on a high school newspaper in the south and know how sometimes, journalistic integrity was constantly put aside, where The Powers That Be had worse to worry about that some gay kid getting outted. They just didn’t care. It’s nice to pretend every school in every district is going to be fluffy-let’s-talk-this out, but it’s also not realistic, considering how you have to threaten lawsuits to some schools before any changes take place—and let’s assume that a gay kid who has just been outed doesn’t want to get locked into that kind of mess, or even know he can do so. There are tons of ways to look at that other than “well, this isn’t realistic.” What’s real, anyway? Things are different all over.

Also, did you read the book? The character who outs Bobby isn’t a good reporter. It’s kind of the point of the whole book. That’s why he made the tape in the first place, knowing full well Bobby’s wishes. I find it really hard to take your criticisms seriously, since his lack of shame and underhandedness is a huge part of the book—that Bobby worked hard, deserved his successes, and had them taken away by someone willing to cheat and hurt people on his climb to the top, and the only response I see for this is “oh hey this other interview wasn’t taped” and “the school wouldn’t do that”—the latter which, well, I’ve already discussed. Teacher led prayer! Would that happen? You bet your ass it’s still happening where I live. It’s a mistake to think that every place in every city in every country is going to be the same. It’s dismissive of experience.

Now, let’s see. Why would a gay kid tell someone who seems sympathetic to them, who isn’t not part of their social circle, who (in Bobby’s mind) is pretty harmless, that he’s gay? Why would he tell his coach, who he trusts implicitly? Why do kids choose to tell the wrong people gossip about themselves? It is because they’re totally adults with years of excellent reasoning and critical analysis under their very mature belts? Or is it because they’re kids and everyone who they’re close to is going to likely be hurt or horrified or dismissive about the truth and going outside this seems safer—even when it’s the exact opposite? I thought the book spelled that out pretty clearly, that trusting the people around you, the people you’re close to, is not something to be afraid of, and also that people can surprise you. There’s a lot going on in this book.

I also find it humorous that you want to rip a really positive father/son side-plot that drives a lot of Bobby’s angst and fear and uncertainty out of the book and replace to it with a happy-ending that centers on what I consider the least important—whether Bobby continues to play football. I don’t think Bobby’s story needs that—his acceptance of himself outside the content of football is the happy ending.

It’s cool that you didn’t like the book, but er, I think you’re going about discrediting it as unrealistic in the wrong way.

posted on October 27th, 2009

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