I love football. I started playing when I was 12 years old. It has been a dominant presence in my life ever since. From youth football, to high-school, and college, and now as a coach. Football has played a huge role in shaping me as a person. Recently, I achieved my dream job of becoming varsity line coach at my high-school alma mater. Last March I was at a coaching clinic. It was late in the afternoon and I was tired. These coaching clinics can tend to be a bit of a drag at times. Hours and hours, and days and days of the presentations on the x's and o's of football. There was one presentation, though, that looked interesting. It was titled "Disneyland." This presentation changed my life. This talk was not about the x's and o's of football. But rather about the emotional truth of why we coaches coach. We are coaches so that we can have a meaningful impact on young people's lives, and help them become better people. As coaches, we want to have  the kind of impact that assure that one day our players can hold hands with their children and walk into Disneyland. The moral of this incredible message was this: as coaches, we can preach to our players that it is more important for them be better people than it is great football players. But if we are not honest with them and do not practice what we preach, it will never work. In other words, teenagers are adept at sensing bullshit. (Laughter) As coaches, we must be willing to share our truth. And sharing our truth is the only way  we can have the kind of impact we truly want to have. The coach who gave this presentation, his truth was that his son became a drug addict due to the bullying and pressure he was subjected to from his dad being the head football coach at his school in Eagle, Idaho, a program that at the time was not very succesful. I went from a presentation on how to run the power  against a 3-4 defense to the most honest, emotional and inspirational talks on coaching philosophy I'd ever heard. So it got me thinking. What's my bullshit? What is unique about me that I bring to the table that will have a meaningful impact? What is my truth? My truth is this. I'm a former college football player. I'm a current high-school football coach. And I am gay. I battled with this truth for a long time. Personally, professionally and certainly in my coaching and athletic career. It was an identity crisis  that had a tremendous impact on my life. Long before I heard this presentation on Disneyland I thought about coming out in football. In the beginning, I told myself "You're gay and you will take it to the grave." Now, I've come a long way since that day. (Applause) Thank you. (Applause) (Cheers) Thank you. I've come a long way since that day, but the process almost cost me my life. I chose to come out to family and friends starting in August of 2014. I told my immediate family first, and then I carefully picked my way through family and friends, trying to choose the right time and place. Only being part way out of the closet meant that I had to be two different people and always be very aware of where I was and whom I was with. It caused a constant state of panic and anxiety. So the question became, "Is it important for  me to come out publicly?" Yes it is, and here is why. My time in-and-out of the closet helped my realize that there are other people  in my situation. And it is not a pretty one. It also helped me realize that coming out is not about sharing my bedroom habits, but about giving myself permission to live my life in its entirety. Let me explain. After talking to one of my fellow coaches, he told me:  "I don't talk about my sex life with players, why would you?" And it's a legitimate question, but a common misconception  about coming out. Again, I'm not talking about my sex life. I'm talking about my life. It's often said that your private life is your private life. But imagine you are put in a situation where going virtually anywhere and doing very normal, healthy, human activities with your significant other could have substantial consequences on your life, reputation and career. You gain a very new perspective on what your private life actually is. That's how being in the closet  affected my life. It was quite literally a closet. No space, no freedom and no comfort. It's a suffocating lifestyle with measurable effects. It wore me down until eventually I was abusing alcohol and prescription medications to keep my anxiety in check. It was a horrible time in my life. When you are put in a situation of having to live a double life, it strips you off dignity and normal coping mechanisms. At that time the only place  I felt somewhat safe was at home. I was living with my parents, who had been nothing but supportive, but I did not feel comfortable bringing guys around them yet. So there I was. No safe place, no place to be myself,  facing a new lifestyle I did not know how to navigate, the anxiety and depression were inescapable. And I responded the only way  I felt I could at the time. Drugs and alcohol. Football teaches so many great life lessons to those who play or coach. Perseverance, toughness,  respect, self-esteem. But the one negative thing that it does teach is that being gay is not OK. To be frank, the word "faggot" is used almost as much as the word "football." There is a misconception about the prominence of gay men in football, and it has serious consequences. I'm the perfect example of this issue. An all-state player in high-school. A two-year varsity captain among a select few in school history to go play for a top tier division 1 football program. The youngest line coach in the history of the school. And I was ready to kill myself. Because I thought that even though this program was like a second family to me, I feared they would shun me. It was a crushing weight that I was carrying with me all the time. Months and months of sleep deprivation, severe anxiety and depression. And honestly, a lack of the will to live began to catch up with me. It was too much. I was desperate for a way out. Any way out. One night I reached for a bottle of vodka and a couple of pills. I didn't see a way out. I just wanted it to be over. If I couldn't be me and still live my life, what was the point? I passed out on the bathroom floor, and my mom found me. I was fortunate  to wake up the next day. I escaped an overdose. It was the scariest moment of my life. When I woke up the next day, I knew I really wasn't ready to give up. And when I heard that talk on Disneyland, I knew how, when and why it was important for me to share my story. I worried for so long about how the football community would react. And while at this point only time will tell, my experience has given me a theory. It's simple. One day, being gay in football will be normal. But in order for that to happen, those of us who are gay need to stand up and own it. The coaches I know are perfect examples of this. I have been met with nothing but love and support from my fellow coaching friends. But now the challenge is to change this. And not just on the private level. The odds of a gay teen or young adult abusing drugs, alcohol, or experiencing anxiety, depression, or even attempting suicide are drastically high. When it comes to football, the social norm that we've created leaves many without hope. We've made incredible progress  in the equal rights movement  under the law. But now we must tackle a different problem. Social equality and the message we send to young people who play football. Continue to use sports to inspire, connect and to share a positive message. A healthy person  cannot live life in the dark. And if you are out there, stand up and own it. Thank you. (Applause)