Netflix crime series explores self-suppression in sports



Photo from IMDb
Aaron Hernandez’s story shines a light on the effects of homophobia and hypermasculinity in the lives of professional sports players. 

We often hear that football is a religion, linked to ideals of “muscular Christianity,” explained by Vox’s Tara Isabella Burton as “a vision of masculine heroism deeply rooted in a colonialist view of what Christianity wasn’t.” 

It’s more deeply than the sport’s “Sunday Night Football” tradition or the staunch nationalism linked to games or figures like Tim Tebow or Kurt Warner, who quite literally exemplify the famous saying “God, family and football.” Teams like Alabama, the Oakland Raiders or even our very own USC have entire rituals and key figures — think gods and even villains. 

Just as Christianity bleeds into the lives of significant figures and historical moments, with its followers viewing certain incidents as undeniable parables, the life of New England Patriots’ tight end Aaron Hernandez gives us insight into the sport’s creed, cult, code and community structure. 

Netflix’s latest true-crime documentary, “Killer Inside: The Mind of Aaron Hernandez,” adds a deeper layer of analysis to one of football’s most complex figures, including his 2013 murder of Odin Lloyd, as well as other criminal activity the player was linked to. It is the most comprehensive view of Hernandez relating his alleged queerness, family structure and the cult of football to his story. 

Clips that detail the culture of college football in Gainesville, Fla. — where he played — combined with commentary from a friend of his victim, are the most profound. They not only showcase a set of conditions that influenced his mindest to commit murder, but also provide a critique of football culture as a whole. 

Between the elements of analysis, the viewer is challenged to think beyond chronic traumatic encephalopathy, his sexuality and acknowledge the unrealistic God complex created around these men. In the series, he is a seemingly untouchable figure who got away with continued drug use, assault and attempted murder, aside from the 2013 murder he executed so carelessly. 

His story can be likened to the complicated King David but without divine redemption. He is likable, clearly loves his fiancée and daughter, and you may even start to feel for Hernandez when his complex relationship with his father and suppressed sexuality is detailed. In heartwarming bits, he asks his fiancée, Shayanna Jenkins-Hernandez, to send him books from the “Harry Potter” series. The docuseries successfully balances the father, son and friend he was with the murderer he’d become.

Football is not only set up as the religion which coddles its gods but also as the beard for Hernandez’s sexuality. Details about his many tattoos, the larger build he developed and the obscenely masculine nature of the sport links his liking and interest in football to a desire to suppress queerness. And through these details and interviews speaking to queerness and masculinity, the docuseries rectifies some of the harmful reporting and media conversations surrounding Hernandez’s sexuality back in 2017.  For context: Hernandez allegedly had a secret lover in prison to whom his third suicide note was addressed to. He also killed himself two days after he was outed by investigative journalist Michele McPhee. 

In more than a recount of tabloid rumors, “Killer Inside” provides viewers with stories from friend and high school quarterback Dennis SanSoucie saying the two had a sexual relationship.  Former NFL Ryan O’Callaghan, who came out in 2017, also draws parallels between Hernandez and the life of a closeted man in professional sports. The parts about his sexuality are uncomfortably similar to documentaries detailing 

sexual abuse in the Catholic Church, comprising not only an exposé, but also a well-crafted marketplace of ideas. 

As someone who was retrospectively outraged by the worrisome reporting on Hernadez’s sexuality, where news personalities referred to Hernandez as “tight end on and off the field,” the documentary at least attempts to add nuance by weaving murder, hypermasculinity and a need to adhere to it through closeted and homophobic behavior. Despite any concrete evidence of his sexuality, a vital aspect of the series viewers will most likely point out is that the conversation is at least approached seriously. 

Hernandez’s story is one of an exceptional athletic talent who struggled with many sins and vices leading to his demise. Like many Biblical figures who dealt with infidelity, murder and a vast number of other anti-Christain behaviors, his alleged queerness and drug use go against the notions of perfection and manhood presented by Urban Meyer’s Gators, the New England Patriots and the sport as a whole. 

Similarly sports and true crime feature, “O.J.: Made in America,” sorts through a football star and sports culture, but Netflix’s take on Hernandez is stronger. The ways in which Hernandez’s mindset and relationship to the sport are presented through haunting but amazingly candid phone conversations go beyond court documents and media banter, although many questions are left unanswered — these intimate conversations strongly support theories as to the “why” behind Hernandez.

As a religion or — better yet — a cult, “Killer Inside: The Mind of Aaron Hernandez” shows us that football affects his most personal relationships and behaviors. You could read an article retelling the events, the backstory, the forensic details of his murder and life, but “Killer Inside” truly explores Hernandez’s mindset, illuminating the sport that developed it.