The story of course is that it was a story. It is a statistical certainty that homosexual men are playing professional sports in the United States and across the world. The same is true for women. The difference is that lesbianism in women’s sport is discussed and practiced openly. It’s even become a marketing strategy for the WNBA franchise in Los Angeles: "Girl Bar," a lesbian social club, is joining with the L.A. Sparks to market the team in the lesbian community.

In a sporting culture that is driven by the male quest for power and dominance, any suggestion of sexual ambiguity is intolerable. It is not likely that a homosexual player would find acceptance, at least not in the beginning. How long it would take for this to change is difficult to say, but it is not likely to happen as rapidly as it did in women’s sport.

Martina Navratilova was open about her lesbianism in the early 1980s, and, indeed, her lover sat in the "friends box" during matches at the major tennis venues. Shots of her during the telecasts were frequent and Bud Collins of NBC Sports called her Martina’s "great good friend," as apparently network television was not yet ready to use the "L" word. Other women have followed Martina’s lead, and, after years of talk and gossip, lesbianism is no longer a big story.

In the past weeks, there has been considerable discussion of what would happen to Brendon Lemon’s lover if his name were spoken. What would his teammates think and do? What about the fans?

Discussions on talk radio and in other media indicated that this player would not be greeted warmly. San Francisco Giants outfielder Eric Davis said that he would feel uncomfortable in the locker room and shower. He said he would worry about the teammate making a pass at him.

American males have a greater tolerance of lesbianism than male homosexuality, and this attitudinal difference is an extension of a sexual double standard that is far from dead. One illustration of this can be found in the porn film industry where "girl on girl" sex is marketed to heterosexual males while "boy on boy" sex is not. One sells, the other does not.

When it comes to sport, for many years, even generations, the notion that an athletic woman had to have a "male" orientation has been etched in American culture. When race car driver Richard Petty, in the stands at Daytona in the 1970s, shouted that Janet Guthrie must have "balls," it may have been tasteless, but it was not surprising. More common than the taunts have been the whispers and jokes that have accompanied discussions of women’s sport over the decades. Consider the attacks on (and jokes about) Eastern European female athletes in this regard.

The definitions of male sexuality are sharply drawn, and the associations of those definitions with sport have been an integral part of the culture for nearly as long as there has been sport. In addition, males would seem to be much more insecure about their sexuality than females, or at least about their own gender identity. The psychosexual melodramas of "raslin" — theatrical wrestling — offer an exaggerated but clear portrayal of these issues.

Perhaps this insecurity helps to explain the difference between the male and female sporting climate, and males’ inability to deal with the issue of homosexuality. Certainly there’s been enough homophobia on display in past weeks to point, once again, to this lingering taboo.