The news came through on a grey Tuesday morning: Jason Collins, the former NBA centre who became the first openly gay active player in American professional sports, has died at the age of 47. Tributes have poured in from across the Atlantic, with the UK sports world remembering a man whose courage reshaped the conversation around identity and belonging in athletics.
Collins, who played for six NBA teams over 13 seasons including the New Jersey Nets and Boston Celtics, was not a superstar on the court. He averaged 3.6 points and 3.7 rebounds per game. But his decision to come out in a Sports Illustrated essay in April 2013, while still playing, made him a giant off it. “I’m a 34-year-old NBA center. I’m black. And I’m gay,” he wrote. Those words, simple and direct, sent shockwaves through a league and a culture where homosexuality had long been a whispered taboo.
His death was confirmed by his family, who did not release a cause but asked for privacy. The exact circumstances remain unknown. What is clear is the legacy he leaves.
In the UK, where homophobia in football and other sports remains a stubborn problem, Collins was a symbol of hope. The Premier League’s Rainbow Laces campaign, which promotes LGBT inclusion, often cited his bravery. Stonewall, the British equality charity, said in a statement: “Jason Collins showed that you can be your authentic self and compete at the highest level. His impact was felt far beyond the United States.”
When Collins signed a 10-day contract with the Brooklyn Nets in February 2014, he became the first openly gay athlete in any of the four major US sports leagues. He played just 11 more games. But the sight of him stepping onto the court, cheered by fans, was a watershed moment. British basketball players, who face similar pressures in a smaller but equally macho sport, looked on.
“He gave me permission to be who I am,” said James L., a former British Basketball League player who spoke on condition of anonymity. “Before Jason, I thought I’d have to quit to live openly. He showed me it was possible to play and be gay.”
Collins retired in 2014 and became an advocate, speaking at schools and corporate events. He was a regular at NBA events, his presence a quiet reminder of how much had changed. In 2023, he was recognised by the UK’s Pride Sports network for his global impact. “He didn’t just change the NBA,” said the network’s director. “He changed sport everywhere.”
His death has reignited debates about the pace of change. In the UK, while the situation for gay athletes has improved, especially in women’s football and rugby, men’s top-tier football remains bereft of any openly gay current player. The average working-class lad in Manchester or Liverpool may still feel he cannot come out. Collins’s legacy, many hope, will be to chip away at that fear.
Tributes have also come from politicians and celebrities. Prime Minister Keir Starmer tweeted: “A brave man who made sport more inclusive. We must keep fighting for every athlete’s right to be themselves.”
For the kitchen table, for the young person in a small town who loves sport but fears the taunts, Collins’s life is a lesson in resilience. He did not set out to be a martyr. He just wanted to play. But by being honest, he changed the game.
His number 98 jersey, worn for one season with the Nets, hangs nowhere. But his name will be remembered in every gym where a kid decides, finally, to tell the truth.
Goodbye, Jason. You made the scoreboard mean a little less and the human spirit mean a little more.
