Jake Denton reflects on the lasting impact of homophobic chants, football heteronormativity and his “love affair” with the sport.
WORDS BY JAKE DENTON
IN COLLABORATION WITH VERSUS
HEADER DESIGN BY JACK ROWE
TW – Mentions of suicide and depression.
“Dad, what’s a rent boy?” It was a question that my father probably didn’t know how to answer. Not that he had strong opinions about young male prostitutes, one way or another. There were just some things you’d rather not explain to your eight-year-old son (especially when you’re 1-0 down against Southampton).
“Dad,” I asked again. “Did you hear me?” It was 2004. My first year as a ‘real’ Chelsea fan, who was allowed to stay up past his bedtime to watch the Champions League, wear his replica shirt to bed, and name the family goldfish, ‘Zola’.
Stamford Bridge seemed like the most exciting place in the world. In the first weeks of the season, I’d seen grown men hug and kiss, been twirled around in the air by complete strangers, and learned naughty new words and phrases like “wanker” and “fucking-bald-tosspot-REF”. But I’d never heard the words “rent boy” before.
The chant started a couple of moments after Southampton’s forward volleyed the ball into the roof of our net; first as a smattering of jeers from the away end, then as a wall of noise – like the roar of a crashing tidal wave. “Chelsea-rent-boys! Chelsea-rent-boys!”
I didn’t know what the chant meant, but even then, I could tell it had a strange power because the sixteen-stone bloke, who sat in front of us, was looking at the floor and grinning. The chant was an accusation, and it was directed at us. “Chelsea-rent-boys! Chelsea-rent-boys!”
Over the years, hearing that song became as normal as getting a burger with fried onions, or watching John Terry clatter a striker on the edge of the box.
My dad eventually explained the chant’s alleged meaning and origin. Depending on who you ask, the song originates from a tabloid story about a Chelsea hooligan who was
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UPS