Category Archives: Sports

My Days of Basketball Glory

It might surprise some of you to know that I once dabbled in basketball. Stop shaking your heads in disbelief, it happened. I may not be your average basketball player, being about half the height of most basketball players, and to be honest I didn’t actually play the sport, but I was a “manager” for the girls’ basketball team at Amsterdam High School. Junior Varsity, of course. It was in ninth grade, and by “manager” it meant bookkeeper and scorekeeper, though in the end I turned out to be more of a cheerleader and entertainment-provider than anything else.

I still remember when Kate and Missy approached me in the hall and asked if it was something I would consider doing. I didn’t know if it was their idea of a joke, nor did I know the first thing about basketball, but I accepted because I wanted to add to my extra-curriculum activities to get into a good college. Yes, I was fun like that. Still am.

I suppose part of it was that I was starting to feel lonely, and the reaching out of a friend or two meant a lot.

On the radio, Billy Joel sang, ‘We Didn’t Start the FIre’ and it seemed the perfect catch-phrase for a fourteen-year-old at any point in time, when blame was all we had and the beginning of adolescent angst settled in.

Back to basketball. I got to attend the games at home and, more excitingly, away, when we’d board a bus and I’d be the only guy in a pool of girls and feel perfectly safe and happy. Even back then, I was one of the girls, and I relished the role and trust implicit in my accepted presence there. Missy was the other manager for the Junior Varsity team, and she had done it all before. Thank God, because I had no clue what was going on.

There were a few times when she couldn’t make it to the game, and I was on my own. I could keep track of the fouls that each player had, but not much else. At one of the home games, someone foolishly left me in charge of the big scoreboard, and let me tell you, people get so bent out of shape if one little point is given to the wrong team. They will let you know as soon as it happens. Like, from all the way across the gymnasium. It’s palpable. Every single time. I never understood that – there are so many points flying left and right, what’s the big damn deal?

And that thirty-second clock? What a nightmare. Who has the sense and wherewithal to reset that thing over and over again? But people will pay attention to that too. Eventually (well, in short order) they took me off the scoreboard part of things, and I went back to keeping track of fouls with a pencil and paper. I’m always better old-school.

It obviously wasn’t the basketball part of the experience that appealed to me, nor, in the end, was it the addition of another extra-curricular activity that thrilled me, but the simple relaxed friendships I made with girls. Far less treacherous than my tricky dealings with boys, my friendships with girls were easy and fun. Girls may be awful to each other, but as a boy I had some bit of protection from that drama. I was also too small and well-dressed to be much of a threat or object of desire. They could confide in me (and too often did, something that I didn’t always honor, to my eternal shame) and I could count on them to appreciate my sense of style and humor.

For a young gay guy, there was safety with girls, something that was always in question in a locker room of guys. Being part of the girls’ basketball team saved me in ways I wouldn’t realize until later, forming a bedrock of security that would be missing from some of my own family sometimes. It was an acceptance that was unhesitating and sure, and when you’re fourteen and unsure about everything, that was of paramount importance. Those of us who have trouble as adults are usually missing that foundation. I was lucky to find it when I did – on the girls’ basketball team.

(Just don’t ask me to keep score.)

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Tom Brady, Shirtless on the Beach

It’s a surprisingly rare moment when Tom Brady removes his shirt, which has always been rather unfortunate given his hotness. Judging from these photos he actually has a somewhat average body for a super sports star, and such a normal revelation only endears him to me. His previous appearances here have been mostly skin-free, which goes to show that a post like this is a rarity indeed. Unlike his teammate Rob Gronkowski, who stepped to the scene sans clothing completely. Not sure which is better…

Here are two bulge shots as well, for those who like to seek out bulges.

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One More Naked Michael Phelps Photo

As if getting naked here a few days ago wasn’t enough, here is one more gratuitous shot of Michael Phelps nude. It’s a lazy summer Sunday, so take a look-see at when Mr. Phelps went bulge-to-bulge with Ryan Lochte, or took a shower in his Speedo, or just removed his clothes and got naked altogether. God save the Olympian.

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Michael Phelps Nude for ESPN’s Naked Issue

(Ok, they call it the Body Issue, but it’s really the Naked Issue.) It would seem that there’s not much of a difference between donning a Speedo and donning a birthday suit, but Michael Phelps and his tan lines prove otherwise. The difference is profound, and sexy, and folks looking to see Mr. Phelps in all his glory need only pick up the latest ‘Naked Issue’ of ESPN Magazine. 

Mr. Phelps is no stranger to baring his body, having appeared on this site several times, notably in the shower and in his Speedo. Never before, however, have we seen Michael Phelps naked – until now. Was it worth the wait? You tell me. I will say this much: tan lines are back.

UPDATE: A better look at Michael Phelps nude.

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Even More Naked Stuart Reardon Shots

Starting off the morning in a very sexy way… Just when you thought there couldn’t be any more naked male hotness from Stuart Reardon, along comes this post featuring more of his namesake and strongest asset. I love when a man knows his attributes, and how to use them to best advantage. In this instance, it’s his ample ass, on display as it was in this previous post. Had I known that this is what rugby could do for a body, I’d have picked up a ball years ago, instead of just sucking on them.

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A Naked Ginger

Olympian Greg Rutherford has been slightly naked here before, but never in GIF-animated motion like this. That always merits a second post. As does any ginger who deigns to take his clothes off. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: everybody loves a ginger.

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Naked and Shirtless Olympic Spirit

In honor of the upcoming Winter Olympics, let’s take a look back at some of the shirtless shenanigans that took place during prior Olympic Games. Figure skating and diving represent most of my interest for the Winter and Summer games respectively, and several familiar figures dominated the scene.

First up is Tom Daley, who has his own ‘Category’ here (much like David Beckham and Ben Cohen). The GIFs displayed here (in which Mr. Daley all but ogles Dan Osbourne) are a fun treat, but it’s his penchant for wearing a skimpy Speedo that forms most of his previous pictorial posts.

Second, we have Michael Phelps. A swimmer with a long, lithe torso and a command of the water that rivals most fish. Mr. Phelps used to favor the Speedo before moving into those knee-length trunks (the only saving grace of which is how low-slung they like to wear them). Thankfully, those Speedo posts live on…

Third, Michael’s team-mate, and reality ‘star’ Ryan Lochte has the beefcake looks and body that sets the mainstream to swooning, in bulging photos like the one below.

A host of other divers and swimmers rounds out the shirtless Olympic scene, including openly-gay cutie Matthew Mitcham.

During the last Summer Olympics, I watched gymnastics for the first time, which was highlighted by the muscular magnificence of the naked male forms of Epke Zonderland (here and here) and Danell Leyva.

Winter necessitates far more clothing coverage, which is unfortunate, but for racy photo shoots some of the figure skaters will take it all off. Case in point was our last Olympic figure skating champion Evan Lysacek, who got all artsy and naked here. Johnny Weir has become a bit of an embarrassment with his lackadaisical (if not outright dumb) nonchalance over Russia’s anti-gay laws, but he’s been here too, so for accuracy and full-disclosure I’ll remind you of this post.

This year will bring a new crop of figure skating gentlemen, and with any luck they’ll have bulbous bottoms, thighs of steel, and enough bedazzled lycra to inspire a whole new generation of boys to glide around on shag carpeting like it was the ice capades. Wait, was that just me?

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Super Bowl No-Show

The blush has gone off my Super Bowl Rose ever since Madonna departed in a blast of smoke after her record-breaking half-time show in 2012. Even last year’s effort by Beyonce couldn’t come close to the show-stopping spectacle that Madonna put on back then. This year Bruno Mars is the biggest name they could produce for the break in football, and since the Patriots aren’t in it, I have no vested interest or reason to watch. (I was never big on commercials, Super Bowl Sunday or otherwise – though I hear Tim Tebow’s is uncannily decent. And there has been that tease that David Beckham will go naked, but who can count on something that miraculous to happen?) Luckily, there is one great benefit to the Super Bowl being on: counter-programming. Of course that constitutes ‘Downton Abbey’ later this evening, but prior to that there will likely be a litany of Lifetime-like movies, romantic comedies, and other fluff that most football fans avoid at all costs. Perfect for a stereotypically-gay guy like myself, who would rather watch an entire weekend of ‘The Golden Girls’ over one single minute of pigskin flying through the air.

Still, it’s fun to recall that Madonna-fueled football-mania of 2012, when I Tebowed and squeezed into a jock strap and cheered on Tom Brady for naught. Maybe I’ll do it again next year, but for now, the quieter ringing of the ‘Downtown Abbey’ is all I want to hear. Wake me when it’s baseball jockstrap season.

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Tom Brady’s Nipples

This funny video of Tom Brady receiving no high-five loving was reason enough to find some nip-pics of the quarterback:

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The Gratuitous Nude Shots of Stuart Reardon

The aptly-monikered Stuart Reardon rears his sumptuously nude butt in his 2014 calendar (from which not all of these photos were culled). Shot by the amazing Rick Day the calendar certainly plays up Mr. Reardon’s best assets. He’s been naked here before (on Louis Vuitton no less) but there is always room for more nude male athletes/models. While I haven’t been the most fervent admirer of body ink, there are several notable exceptions and Reardon falls into that rarified group. Now if we can only get Ben Cohen to follow suit and remove his.

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Jockstrap Preparation

In joyful anticipation of the impending World-Series-inspired jockstrap post(s), here’s a linky look back at some of the sports stars who have shirtlessly and gratuitously graced the Archives of www.ALANILAGAN.com, starting with a baseball player.

This is a very naked Matt Harvey, posing for the ESPN Naked Issue (the only reason for that publication’s existence).

The naked tool known as Rob Gronkowski in his almost-altogether.

The first openly-gay NBA player Jason Collins.

UPDATE: Puckish stud and hockey player Sean Avery is NOT engaged to Andy Cohen.

Mr. Tom Brady, in tight pants. Need more be said?

Another football player shirtless and in tight pants, Danny Amendola

And yet another football player, Drew Brees, caught getting shirtless and sudsy in the shower.

Finally, straight ally sports star Matt Jarvis, doing laundry without clothes on. At least there’s a flimsy reason for that gratuitous male nudity.

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Of Baseball & Jockstraps

The Boston Red Sox, whom I’ve loved since 1986 (yes, THAT World Series, remembered for Mr. Buckner’s bauble) just made it into this year’s World Series, so I’m going to have to squeeze into a jockstrap again in commemoration. You have your superstitious rites, I have mine. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve joined in all the shirtlessness, and pretty soon it’s going to be way too cold for such nonsense.

As for the Red Sox, I still remember the first game I ever saw in person at Fenway Park. It was that same ill-fated year and they were playing the Blue Jays. At the time, I was more interested in Boston, and the paperwhite narcissus bulbs I just got at Quincy Market. They nestled in a brown paper bag beneath my seat. The game was good – they won! – but it didn’t captivate my interest like flowers or cobblestone streets. I sat with my Mom – my brother and Dad had better seats behind third base – it meant more to them.

I wouldn’t go back to see another game until my freshman year at Brandeis when it was part of the orientation activities. For that dismal game, when they were down by eleven points in the seventh inning, I left  a bit early, exploring Boston rather than witnessing another massacre. I’d like to go back and see another one through, but not until next year. (This time I’ll be avoiding Fenway when I’m in town next weekend. It would just be too much.) In the meantime, stay tuned for this year’s jockstrap spread

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Tom Daley’s Almost-Naked Ass

Because when your Speedo’s slung so low, and your butt sticks out so perkily, there’s only so much you can hide from the world. I doubt anyone is complaining either, so here is Tom Daley in all his almost-altogether glory. Given the average swimmer/diver build, I’m surprised we haven’t started taking chlorine pills. Though this isn’t a Summer Olympics year, they should still be practicing – thank God.

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A Gratuitous David Beckham Post

In honor of his recent retirement announcement, this is a gratuitously shirtless post of David Beckham in his underwear. Hopefully this will afford him the time and opportunities to concentrate on more important matters, like posing in and out of underwear.

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The Amazing Jockstrap Post

While I’m not slipping into a jockstrap this year like I did here, and here, I managed to find a few guys who did, and here they are. They’re not your traditional football-playing jocks, and that’s why I like them.

 

 

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