Robbie Rogers Is Out, Proud, and a Champion

This time, Robbie Rogers looks happy. He's covered in sweat, grass stains, beer, and champagne. He has a large lump on the left side of his forehead from a knock he took while trying to slow down New England Revolution winger Teal Bunbury, and the sweaty, unbearable media scrum converging on him is desperate to get a few sound-bites from American sports first openly gay athlete to win a championship—the MLS Cup, as a member of the Los Angeles Galaxy.

"I remember last time I won this it was here and totally different circumstances and I couldn't enjoy it," Rogers said after the games. "I remember just being alright with it. The emotion I had today after the game I can't explain. It's been such a long journey and for it to end this way, and to I don't know, share it with these guys on the field has been amazing."

Everything was different in 2008. Rogers was a member of the Columbus Crew team that won the MLS Cup at the StubHub Center, but he didn't celebrate like his teammates. Instead, Rogers, who was 21-years old at the time, had a few celebratory drinks and called it a night. He couldn't enjoy winning American soccer's biggest trophy. He was depressed. A product of hiding his sexuality from the world, which he first became aware of as a teenager, because he thought it would jeopardize his playing career.

Two years ago, Rogers, now 25, came out to the world by penning an open letter. Then, a few months later, he retired.

"I retired because I didn't think it was possible to be out and playing soccer," Rogers told me a few days before the MLS Cup.

He wrote the now famous letter after coming out to his family and friends, and at the urging of Nick Mulholland, a close friend and PR professional. Rogers knew the British tabloids find out nearly everything, and Mulholland encouraged him to have a statement ready for when the news inevitably broke. He also convinced Rogers to keep a journal.

Rogers began writing a few days later. During that time he wrote the open letter on his laptop and saved it as "Letter of Life." When Rogers showed another friend, Steven Buchan, what he had written, Buchan began to cry.

"He really connected with it, which was kind of an interesting moment with him," Rogers says.

Buchan didn't see the big deal with the letter or with Rogers, who grew up in a conservative, Christian family, letting the world know his secret. He didn't understand that the taboo of the gay professional athlete had only just begun to be lifted. Jason Collins had not yet come out. Michael Sam's announcement was still months away. Yes, women in America had come out and been accepted, notably U.S. Women's National Team stars Megan Rapinoe and Abby Wambach, but no man had broken the macho seal yet.

Rogers and Buchan were sitting in his kitchen and, after debating, he decided to post the letter on his personal website. He then shut his laptop and turned off his phone and they went out to dinner. Rogers and his friend were scheduled to hop on a train to Brighton in the morning to go run a half-marathon. Rogers ignored his phone and the world until the race was finished. During that time, his letter took on a life of its own on the Internet. Support started to rain in for Rogers from former teammates, coaches, players, athletes, celebrities, and fans.

"It was a pretty insane reaction," Rogers said. "I didn't realize what happened, just thousands and thousands of emails. I had an email address on one of my websites and it was crazy in a good way. It was the last thing I expected to happen."

Rogers planned to explore men's fashion after announcing his retirement. He didn't think he could play professionally anymore after posting the letter. He was accepted to the London College of Fashion's menswear technology fashion course and was already a co-owner of the menswear brand Halsey back in the U.S. He had interned at a fashion PR firm in London as well as the fashion department of Men's Health magazine, so he knew the industry and figured he'd saved enough money to put himself through school and then figure out what to do next with that experience.

But then came the itch to return to soccer. Rogers decided he would only play in Los Angeles because he wanted to be close to his family and have the security of home there for him when he needed it. He started training with the Galaxy the day after Jason Collins announced he is gay. The problem for Rogers was that MLS has strange rules and the Chicago Fire owned Rogers' rights after a trade with his former club, the Columbus Crew. However, on May 24, 2013, the Galaxy traded Mike Magee to the Fire for Rogers. Two days later, Rogers stepped onto the field, becoming the first openly gay man to play in a major North American sports league.

Since then, Rogers has flourished. He's been accepted by his teammates. He's written a book and even found a second wind on the field after Galaxy coach Bruce Arena moved him to left-back—some people are now predicting he will be called into the U.S. Men's National Team's upcoming January camp.

It's been almost two years since Rogers came out and he's a bit surprised that, given he's enjoying his life more than ever, more athletes haven't come out. He knows how difficult the decision can be—it made him think he had to retire, after all—and how much it weighs on a gay athlete, but despite the slow pace of change, Rogers is confident more athletes will come out, and someday sexuality won't matter at all.

"I know it will happen," Rogers says. "The United States is changing and the rest of the world is changing. So, I just think it is going to happen much more slowly than we thought."