Mark Spector

Mark Spector is a columnist for sportsnet.ca

EDMONTON -- There are gay men who are, as we speak, getting into shape for another NHL season.

More than one will attend the five-team Penticton, B.C. rookie camp, perhaps as a Canucks, Flames or Oilers hopeful in September. And yes, odds are a gay man will suit up inside the Toronto Maple Leafs or Montreal Canadiens dressing room when camp opens a few days later.

Face it. If there are 750 players in the National Hockey League, more than just one or two are gay. But who wants to be the first guy to come out as an active player?

Who has the courage? Who needs the hassle?

Who is both secretly gay and secure enough in their career to become The Gay Hockey Player?

"I think they'd be shocked (if they did it)," said Billy Van Raaphorst, who knows a bit about the subject. "I think they would find people who support them who they had no idea would support them.

"I really think they would be shocked with the amount of support they would get."

Van Raaphorst still can't believe how the rest of the umpires rallied behind him when the Golden League suspended Edmonton Capitals manager Brent Bowers for a mere two games and fined him $500, after a homophobic rant on a California diamond. Golden League umpires threatened a work stoppage; Bowers was suspended for the rest of the season and swiftly fired by the Capitals - who are a subsidiary of the Edmonton Oilers and the Katz Group.

To the Oilers' credit, they arranged for the umpiring schedule to be changed so that Van Raaphorst could come to Canada for the first time Friday to work this weekend's series. He spoke with Katz Group employees Friday morning, the Capitals players and coaches Friday afternoon, followed by the media.

It was the first time he had ever stood behind the lectern, speaking on "myself, my sexuality, my family, my situation in professional baseball," he said. "I wouldn't be here if (the Oilers) hadn't handled things the way they handled things."

He wouldn't be here, either, if he hadn't waited until Major League Baseball drummed him out of Double-A ball to come out. Who knows where it might have led, but Van Raaphorst, like so many others who have come out post-career, wishes he would have come out of the closet back in the Texas League. Or earlier.

Why do so many gay athletes live in secrecy?

"It's because it's all we know," he said. "It's their world. I felt like I had built this world around me, and if I came out it was gone. And I don't think I was willing to trade all that.

"I had built up so much fear, real or not, that ... everything was going to go bye-bye. You're left with isolation."

Van Raaphorst is still a mountain of a man, though not the 290-pound centre he was at San Diego State. His family is football through and through: His dad kicked at Ohio State for Woody Hayes, and after that the San Diego Chargers. His brothers were NCAA quarterbacks at Arizona State and USC.

He was an up-and-coming umpire in the Double-A Texas League when it all fell apart. Was it coincidence that his grades as an ump sewered at the same time he started exploring his sexuality, taking his first boyfriend in 2001, a Tulsa man?

He doesn't think so. But he ended up working college ball, and decided then to become the man he is today.

"I knew I was done lyin'," he said. "It was to the point where I lied to my crew about what I was doing, where I was going, who I was interested in hanging out with. They didn't know.

"I wasn't developing real strong relationships with other umpires, because I was kind of, like, odd. Something's not right, because I was lying all the time."

They were decisions made because he was scared. Scared that if he came out, he would be drummed out of baseball. Or worse, he would ascend more quickly, just because he was gay.

"I didn't trust people enough. I made a decision out of fear," he admits. "I have been asked … if I was gay, by umpires at the time. I lied to them, and I regret that.

"I shouldn't have lied. I should have trusted people more. I've learned, if you trust people, amazing stuff can happen."

Amazing stuff, indeed.

From the ashes of the vile incident with Bowers, who has not mustered the courage to contact Van Raaphorst to apologize, has emerged as sport's latest coming-out party. Van Raaphorst knows there are many more out there like he was, scared to risk what they've got by simply being themselves.

He is not pied piper, no crusader for gay rights. But if there is somebody inside a dressing room somewhere who needs somebody to talk to, they can find Van Raaphorst on Facebook.

"If there's an opportunity to help somebody, I guess it's my turn. I'll do it," he said. "I'm not the kind of guy at the front of the parade … I'm going to be me. If that includes having a sit-down with a guy who wants a discussion about it, I'm in.

"I would help somebody."

No doubt he already has.