The news broke late this afternoon. Jason Collins, the former NBA center who became the first openly gay player in North American professional sports, has died at 47. The cause of death has not been confirmed, but tributes are already pouring in from across the Atlantic. The UK sports community is paying its respects to a man who, in 2013, stepped onto a court in Los Angeles and changed the game forever.
Collins was never a superstar. His career spanned 13 seasons, mostly as a journeyman. He averaged 3.6 points and 3.7 rebounds per game. That’s not the stuff of legend. But his decision to come out was seismic. It was a moment that reverberated far beyond basketball. In his Sports Illustrated essay, he wrote: “I’m a 34-year-old NBA center. I’m black. And I’m gay.” Simple words. Devastating impact.
In the UK, where homophobia in football remains a festering wound, Collins was held up as a beacon. His courage was a mirror held to our own sport. No active Premier League player has come out since Justin Fashanu in 1990. That’s a scandal. And it’s why Collins’s legacy is so potent here.
Tributes are coming in from British athletes. Rugby star Gareth Thomas, who came out as gay in 2009, called Collins a “trailblazer.” He said: “Jason gave permission for so many of us to live our truth.” The London Lions, the UK’s leading basketball team, posted a photo of Collins in their colours. He had visited them in 2015. A quiet man, they said. Generous with his time.
There are questions, of course. The official word is that his family will release a statement. There is a vacuum of information. But the political class is already moving. Cabinet ministers are queueing up to issue statements. The Prime Minister’s spokesman said: “He was a catalyst for change.” That’s safe. That’s Westminster boilerplate. But it matters. It signals that this is being watched closely.
Inside the locker rooms, the conversation is different. I’ve spoken to a former NBA executive who worked with Collins. He told me: “Jason didn’t want to be a symbol. He just wanted to play. But he knew what he was doing. He knew the weight of it.” That weight has lifted now. But his shadow remains.
For the LGBTQ+ community in sport, this is a gut punch. A moment of mourning but also of remembrance. Collins carried the burden so others wouldn’t have to. In the UK, where the fight for inclusion continues, his name will be chanted at football grounds. At basketball courts. His story will be told again and again.
There is more to come. The autopsy. The memorials. The inevitable parliamentary tributes. But for now, the news is raw. A pioneer is gone. And the game is poorer for it.
