Wish You Were Queer

A message to Chase Utley from the editors of G Philly

Photo by Jessica Vermeer Hawkes

Dear Chase,

The signs are there, you know. And we’re not talking about all of that hocus-pocus that old mule Charlie sends out from the dugout as you stand in the batter’s box, either.

No, dearheart, we mean the signs that with a little bit of work, we could, to use a baseball metaphor, get you to switch-hit. Is there anyone who believes those locks are your natural color? You have a great ass you like to show off in expensive jeans. You’re around buff, naked men constantly. You’re from California. (Not conclusive, but, well …) And you have a wife who loves to shop – and we’re not at all convinced she doesn’t get that from you.

Just think about it for a minute, okay? Would it really be all that, ahem, hard to give us a sports icon of our own?

I mean, John Amaechi and Greg Louganis are nice, but it’s really time for us to land a name. We can see it already: the grand marshal float at the Pride Parade; the brooding, shirtless picture on the cover of The Advocate (“Giving Chase: Baseball’s Brave New Circuit Queen”); the eventual stint doing the fox-trot on “Dancing With the Stars.” And then those nights with us, your loyal gay fans, singing “Send in the Clowns” at closing at Knock.

Okay, so we’re asking a lot. Jen is rather sexy in that smoky brunette way, and no doubt it would be tough to give up all those teenage girls swooning over you for guest-judging at QFest.

Hmm. Maybe you could just loan us Chad Durbin. See? We’re really not asking a lot.