R.K. Russell, His Bi Memoir, and So Much More

R.K. Russell has been up to a lot in the three years since our last interview — not least of which is publishing his memoir, The Yards Between Us: A Memoir of Life, Love, and Football (2023). We talk about what went into writing his book, if he still uses typewriters, what it’s like to meet the iconic Gayle King, and what’s next for his career — among a litany of other fascinating topics.

So this is a little unusual because you're my first repeat interview for the website. I thought we could do something a little different. In the style of the Billie Eilish interviews for Vanity Fair, I'm going to ask you some of the same questions since it's been a couple years and your answers may have changed. First, how do you see yourself as a writer and an athlete, and how does being bi fold into that?

R.K. RUSSELL: This question is something that changes so much, because identity — especially for me — is so layered. At times, the intersections blend and might seem at odds with each other, but they're all varied versions inside myself. I see myself now as this multi-talented, multifaceted, multi-interested person. I think that there's a way to express that on the field, there’s a way to express that in your writing, there's a way to express that in your advocacy, and in your relationships. So the lines are definitely blurred.

I love all of the titles, but at the end of the day, if I had to give my 30-second elevator speech, I’m just me. And these are characteristics and values that are just pieces of a whole, if that makes sense.

It's been nearly four years since you released your coming out article on ESPN. What has your experience been like being out as bi since then, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic?

Honestly, my experience has been, for the most part, amazing.

I've experienced so much [more] joy in these four years than I have for a lot of my life — or, at least, joy that feels the most genuine and true to my soul.

Being able to still be involved with the NFL and football as an out, bisexual man; being able to talk about bisexuality and the erasure that for a long time affected how I viewed myself and how I educated myself and … share that writing with people… all of these things have really flourished and found genuine roots, which makes them grow so much deeper.

The pandemic was rough just as a human being in society, trying to figure out how to navigate with friends and family, losing friends and family, and having people struggle. It was definitely hard. But I felt like I was able to show up for people in a way I never had before. Just being so in line with myself, first and foremost, making sure my cup was full so that I can pour it into others.

Beyond what you write about in your memoir, is there anything surprising about you you'd like people to know that maybe isn't part of your public persona?

I would love to be a little more mysterious, I think. [Laughs]

Something that surprises other people [is that] I'm very much an introvert. I know that I use my platform, I do a lot of public speaking, I love meeting people. Don’t get me wrong; human connection is something I value so much. But I'm very much an introvert. I have to gear up mentally and emotionally for interviews or nights out or speaking engagements or just meeting new people. After doing press for my book, The Yards Between Us, I'm gonna come home and not do anything for three days. Cause I know I'm gonna be just on E... so I don't know if that would surprise anyone.

We do know about your love of breakfast foods from our last interview. Have you had any fun new discoveries or dishes in that department since we last spoke?

Oh my goodness. I love breakfast foods so much. I tweeted about bisexuality and sexuality at a breakfast buffet. I can't get enough. I am actually waiting for a breakfast sandwich to get to my house as we speak! I ordered it right before we got on. It's from a place I can't even pronounce. Ggiata on Melrose Hill. They do normal sandwiches; I think it's an Italian sandwich shop. But they started doing breakfast sandwiches. For a $2 upcharge you can get on a homemade biscuit, and it is worth every penny. [Laughs] It's hard not to eat it, [but] this big biscuit every morning probably isn't great for me.

During the heart of the pandemic, you popped up in a lot of viral dance videos with your partner, Corey — particularly this one. Did you help create those videos as a way to stave off boredom? Did these videos help you find a whole new audience with your work in the TikTok generation?

Much like coming out, and a lot of the things I did in the earlier part of my coming out, life was rooted purely first in joy and happiness for me. It wasn't really about, at that moment, making this huge change in sports per se, [or] this huge political statement. It was really just a person trying to survive and be happy and accept themselves. And the things that were reverberating came from it. The things that I even believe now are my life’s purpose were beautiful byproducts of caring for myself. I would say the same as with TikTok at that time. It was really a way for my partner and I to experience joy in a new format, to show our own love and pride just for us, and have fun.

The things that reverberated from that were, of course, the young LGBT people who never felt like love or joy was in their future or didn't have that visual representation where all of the feedback initially was great. And to find new people to connect with, new football and sports fans to connect with, [were] all beautiful byproducts of really just wanting to live my life with my partner and have a little fun and dance in front of a phone, in a time where we really couldn't do anything else.

Since coming out, you've written a lot even besides your memoir at outlets like our sister site, Queer Majority. What has that experience been like for you? Do you feel like you have a new or undiscovered vantage point you've been able to bring to your writing since then?

Maybe not a new vantage point, but I do feel like my voice and POV are getting sharper and more pronounced. And it's funny, ‘cause in the earlier parts of writing and sharing it with people, I would write in this haze and then read it back after it's published or something like, “Oh my God, who wrote this? Who is this person?” That kind of dissociation is lessening. I feel myself being more present in the process, being more valid in my own ability and in what I have to say, and in my POV being both unique and somehow necessary. So I would say that my writing now, I feel it deep within my soul. I feel it present here with me. I only write really if I have something to say.

I also think early on I felt like I needed to take every opportunity, because I had to validate that I was a writer and I had to do all this. But now it's like, if I have something to say or if I see something — especially in the realm of sports where I feel like it is being misused or it's being used in a way to harm people, to exclude people — then I know that I have something to say and I have a mission here. I have a message. My POV is feeling more like an extension of me. … Before, [it] was just this talent floating around — maybe it was mine, maybe it wasn't, maybe I could use it, maybe I couldn't. Now, it feels like an extension.

So you feel like honing your craft and with your particular vantage point and journey, you almost have a responsibility for telling certain stories, or addressing certain issues?

Yeah, definitely. I would say more like a calling. Responsibility makes it feel like if I don't do it, I let some someone down, or I've missed an opportunity. And I haven't had that yet. Not saying I never will, but I just haven't had it yet.

But I do feel like I hear a lot of things, whether it be race or sports or bisexuality, from points of view … [where] I'm like, “Oh, well that's not my experience.” And I know that other people have similar experiences to me, whether they're put in the media or not. It's important for them to see that and to hear that, for me to even see it and hear it.

So I feel called to it a lot of the time. Very rarely do I get something and I feel like, “Oh, I need to do this or I miss something.”

You've already done a lot of fascinating promotion for your memoir, appearing with everyone from Andy Cohen to Tamron Hall. Were there any appearances you were particularly excited to do, or any that surprised you?

Oh my God, I was excited to do all of them, I'm not gonna lie — just for such different reasons.

You know, Andy Cohen and who he is in the [LGBT] community in New York City. [And] him also coming out with a book that's just become a New York Times bestseller the second week in a row. Just a very interesting opportunity. To be wanted and to be asked to be on [his show] was great. My mom also loved Andy Cohen. She's not even like a big Housewives person. She just loves Andy. [Laughs] So it was a great opportunity for her to meet him.

And then going to something like CBS Mornings and meeting with Gayle King and Nate Burleson, who I followed when we were both in the NFL. His career as a player and now moving into the realm he's in, and Gayle and everything she means to the black community, and to black women, specifically. I was raised by strong, successful black women. Women like Gayle King have always been my idols, really.

And just to have that... it's so many varied experiences. People should be open to all types of experiences when we're talking about something as surreal as press for a book, or as small as meeting new people and having new conversations and hearing stories different from your own. They are the colors to this beautiful canvas of life that just make life beautiful.

You famously love to write on an old-school typewriter. Were you able to use that for your memoir, either working through particular chapters or drafts, or sending in hard copies to your editors? Do you still find a grounding solace to the activity away from all the notifications and distractions of the world?

Oh my, yes. It's so funny you brought that up. My nephew this morning literally saw my typewriter and wanted to put paper in. They're new age kids too, so they have an iPad, so it was cool to see him choose this typewriter over the fancy, high-tech iPad.

With the manuscript and deadlines and just how my life is set up, I didn't get to utilize the typewriter as much as I would have liked to. But I did find pieces that I had written before on typewriters that I felt translated to the manuscript. So I still felt very connected to it, in that way.

But any time you can get away from external noise in an attempt to hear your internal voice is important. There are so many things telling us how we should feel about our identity, or our body, or our views that sometimes we forget to listen to ourselves and our own opinions and view of those things. ... Regardless of the day, you're gonna wake up with yourself, you're gonna go [to] sleep with yourself. You need to be in touch with your internal dialogue. And you'll find that a lot of it also influences how you take in the outside noise, how you filter through it, and how it affects you.

I have a few typewriters now. I would love to get back to it. Now that I have a book out [and] I'm doing press for this second book, I can maybe incorporate it more. That's what I would love to do, anyway.

The last time we spoke, you were working on this memoir. How does it feel to finally have it out in the world? And what drove you to write this memoir?

I feel both very proud. ... Writing a book was something I had wanted to do since I was a kid, but never really saw it as a goal for me. It was always this far-out dream. And then adding on the layer of writing about my life — something that I kept very much a secret, very much compartmentalized, and only shared certain truths about myself and shrouded others — I never thought that would happen. I mean, maybe when I was 80 and was just like, “Fuck it, [laughs] I got nothing else to lose. Let's go for it.”

So I'm just very proud that I did it at this moment. But there’s also a vulnerability to it, which is both powerful and terrifying. It’s terrifying because it's something that's so vibrant, and so immense, and so piercing. So there's a bit of fear to walk into someone's home and see my face there, and to know the contents of that book. At first, I'm like, “Oh, okay, what's going on here? Why do you have this? Please don't have this.” But also it opens up a conversation for vulnerability, for genuine care for empathy, which is something we can all use a little more of in our day-to-day life...

I wanted to write this book because I hadn't read anything like it before. I hadn't had something like this growing up. Little RK would've loved to hear about another black bisexual football player. I know there are other people, both young and old, who [share that] experience or journey, and they deserve to have that out in the world.

I also believe, bringing it back to empathy, that there are people who [aren’t black and bi], but to read something like this and see just the human experience, to bring a human life to things that might for them have just been topics or political points — hopefully will create that empathy, [and allow them to] see the humanity in that person. That was my hope for writing this. I feel very, very fortunate to have been given that opportunity.

Kaylee Walker — who reviewed the book for this site — will kill me if I don't ask you this. She must know. We must know! What happened with Trina?! Did you keep in touch with her or any of your other childhood loves?

I've had so many former partners at any stage of my life who I really view as great people. Aside from the story I told in New York, a lot of those people, what drew me to them is they were very grounded, real, genuine, good people.

Trina... I wouldn't say we stay in touch. We have each other's numbers. We talk here and there. She has a few kids now. Her firstborn son and I share a birthday. So on my birthday, I make sure to text her and tell her son “Happy Birthday”. That's the extent: to know there's someone out there that impacted your life and that you always want the best for, that you just see them and you have positive feelings — whether there's an active relationship or an active friendship there or not — just to know you've had an impact on someone, [and that] they’ve had an impact on you, and you just wish them the best.

You wrote in your memoir that you initially didn't think bisexuality was an option, but you often looked up to a lot of famous bis, including Frank Ocean. What do you think was going on internally that made you think for so long you had to choose just one sex?

I think it was a lot of the sources I was getting. Even knowing these people were bisexual and having these idols, bisexuality wasn't something I even heard talked about when I thought of them. I was also a huge fan of James Dean and Frank Ocean and all these people, and their bisexuality never came up in the conversation — even in my fandom. That’s not down to anything other than just where the information is, where we're looking, what's readily available, what other people in our heteronormative media feel is valued or is crucial information. And also, I lived in a heteronormative world, as we all do. I also was in sports, which is very heteronormative, very masculine, all of those things.

When I was introduced to people in the LGBT community, they were mostly gay people who had their own ideas and own information about bisexuality. Like I've said: having that information available for people, letting them know there is no black and white to anything, and that there's a fluidity to life — whether it be gender, sexuality, experience, talent.

I just think the information wasn't readily available to me, and I was also afraid to search for it because of sports and the communities I already embodied would be in opposition with it. Not to beat a dead horse, but that's why I feel so strongly about The Yards Between Us. I want people to see the layers of identity and know that they can all exist cohesively, because they have been in people like me.

How does it feel to be a historic first in the queer history of the NFL? Where would you like to see queerness in the NFL go from here? You touched a little bit on this with Andy Cohen and had to do an elevator speech version, but please feel free to elaborate.

I did not expect to be the first. That idea didn't even really cross my mind until the headlines came out and said it. Being the first, I just didn't want to be last, or one on a list of ten. The fact that we can so easily, especially in the NFL, look back and find a quick summary of the people who have come out — whether it be past, present or future; retired, former, or active — just didn't sit right with me. Having that calling to be like, ”Okay, what do we do now that you found happiness [and] love and feel that you can breathe? What do we do for those who have not found that, who feel like they're suffocating; who feel like sports, something they love, is a big contributor to that?”

So to be the first — yeah, it's definitely an honor. But also it's brought me to my calling, just to not be the last. I'll talk specifically about the NFL and male sports, ‘cause female professional sports, in terms of LGBT inclusion, are far, far, ahead of male sports. But for male sports — for football — there's a lot of focus on professional players coming out. I think it's because of the platform, brand, and visibility. But we have to also remember that football doesn't start at 21 when you're drafted. Homophobia in any sports league does not just pop up once you start getting paid a lot of money. It happens when you're a little kid at the playground. You pick up a football for the first time, and another kid or a young coach or whoever tells you what that means, the type of people that can pick up that football and play, and the type of people that can't; that aren’t welcome. The locker rooms that you walk into in high school, in middle school that either feel warm and inviting like a family, or feel divisive and scary; a place where you need to change or assimilate to be valued.

The goal for me is not to have all the closeted NFL players come out. That would be great; I am also seeking that environment. But my first initial goal is to have LGBT youth stick with sports, find community, love, and acceptance in sports; [to have] out players go into the drafts, and out players become draft picks and free agents. And you don't have to wait ‘til you are set up financially or you're a professional or achieved that dream or are retired to come out.

You speak often about seeking out a chosen family in sports growing up. Since coming out, have you been able to build a chosen family that supports you away from the sport? Or are you, at this time, more focused on repairing your relationship with your blood family for your wanted community?

I’m bisexual, so I've been doing both. I've been doing it all.

I have found family outside of the sport — specifically here in LA. ... For my blood family, repairing relationships is something I had been doing already for a long time before the book came out. But I had been trying to figure out where my biological father fits into my life. [Also] my aunt and my uncle who, when I was young, felt very distant from me emotionally, where I've tried to come back as a young adult and see, “Okay, how do we fit? How do we work through this? What are the conversations that need to be had? What are the conversations that don't need to be had because we have agreed to disagree? What is the distance that still feels like we can be close enough to be considered family, but far enough to not hurt each other?” If anyone wants to repair a relationship with me, they also have to do the work. ‘Cause if it was 100%` on me, then it probably wouldn't happen and wouldn't work out. That's already setting me up for failure.

Beyond the memoir, are there any future or upcoming projects that you're excited about or allowed to discuss.

Oh my God, I'm so glad I'm allowed to talk about this. My memoir is being adapted and developed by Sony Pictures in collaboration with Gabrielle Union and her production company. I’ve been fortunate enough to talk with Gabrielle Union, and to have her also want and support me in co-executive producing and co-writing the series.

She actually brought up the idea that it should be a comedy. At first, when I read it in the email before the meeting, I was like, “How is this gonna work? But it's Gabrielle Union and she's fabulous, so let's let's hear it.” And as soon as it was explained to me, I was like, “This is actually perfect.”

There's a lot of things in life that become dangerous, dark topics, but it's because we don't talk about them at their roots. We don't sit down and talk to our family members or our community at the stem of things before they become these big heated, volatile topics. A lot of the ways we can do that at the early ages is with humor and with comedy — kind of like hiding the medicine inside of the food; giving you a good meal, but also making sure you’re taken care of — mind, soul, body. I’ve also experienced so many comedic things in my life.

And personally, I am over the traumatic coming-out stories on TV — the trauma and the hardships and how grueling it is. Because yes, that's very true... But my story is not necessarily just that; I wanna talk about the fun times, I wanna talk about post-coming out. Coming out for me, it was like, “That's great, I'm happy, ... but what do I do now?” [Laughs] We should represent what it's like after coming out; you're not just this fully evolved person that's done all the work and now it's just the happily ever after fade to black. You're still a messy person. You're still learning and growing, and you're still trying to figure yourself out. Most of the time it can be humorous because the human experience can be crazy.

So that’s the upcoming project I'm focused on now.

I appreciate, from both community and queer writer point of view, seeing stories that aren’t just the typical coming-out arc, because that's so often seen by straight people as a basic conflict, but there's so much more than that.

I want a bisexual main character who is not just defined by the people that they sleep with, but by how they feel about themselves, how they see the world — whether it be intimacy or attraction or love or just the beauty of another human being. I think that's really important. Side characters are cute, but I'm ready for a main character.

Final question: Is there any advice you would give to a younger version of yourself, and/or to young people on their way to coming out that you wish that you had known?

Yes. I would say to a young black queer person in sports, that there is nothing amiss with you. There is nothing wrong. You are not an anomaly. You did not happen by chance. You are here for a reason; you have a purpose and a place in life. Even if that purpose is to just be joyous, to love and be loved, your future is bright. There is happiness meant just specifically for you. There is a dream and a love with your name on it and your name only. The scary and dark times are not forever. They, too, will pass.

You are loved. And if you feel like there's no space for you where you are, in your work or in your interests, you can either make space or you can go somewhere where you feel welcomed. Neither of those are the wrong choice. I love you. I support you. I see you, as many, many others do. And we are waiting for you here when you are ready and willing to let us in.