The Rookies

In 1994, one of the greatest upsets in sporting history occurred on U.S. soil. It was then that a ragtag group of kids from the Minnesota suburbs joined up with a collection of “talent” from around the country to participate in the Junior Goodwill Games. There they somehow managed to defeat a loaded Iceland team that saw seven (!) players make it to the NHL.

That was fifteen years ago. Unbelievable.

The question remains; what have the USA Ducks been up to since then? A lesser blogger might have just done a quick Google search to see what the team had been doing since they left Eden Hall Academy, but not this man. I crisscrossed the country in hopes of interviewing the whole gang.

The first two installments caught up with Coach Bombay, Averman, Luis Mendoza and Charlie Conway; this one, the only true physical presence on the team, The Bash Brothers.

The Bash Brothers

When I was invited to visit the home of former Bash Brothers, Fulton and Dean Portman, I expected to find a ramshackle apartment whose beer can strew floors vibrated from a booming bass. As my taxi pulled up to their joint residence in Andersonville, a North Side Chicago neighborhood, I was surprised to see an adorable three bedroom house. In the American Craftsman style, it had overhanging eaves that covered a picturesque pair of wooden rocking chairs sitting on the porch; no doubt remnants of the previous owner.

Fulton invited me inside and apologized for Portman’s delay. Portman currently works for a private security company which has sometimes led to him working odd hours on detail for such celebrities as Christian Bale, Kelly Clarkson and most recently Lady Gaga. Fulton admits that he doesn’t like his friend being away for such long stretches at a time, but he busies himself with various handiworks around the house, noting that he has installed all new insulation and replaced everything from the wiring to the rain gutters.

It’s apparent that he isn’t nearly as shy and soft spoken as he once was, seemingly more comfortable with his large frame and imposing demeanor, than he was when he played for the Ducks. “I always felt useful on the ice,” Fulton recalls. “I could use my size advantage to help the team. But off it? I just didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin.” Obviously the most difficult time for him at Eden Hall Academy was when his best friend, Portman, was unable to attend. Even after he was joined by his fellow Bash Brother he had difficulties at school whenever he wasn’t hanging out with the Ducks. Snide comments from classmates, relationship problems and the pressures of being a teen resulted in his grades slipping and a suspension from the team for a key stretch of games his Junior year.

After an hour of chatting an apologetic Portman opened the door, shook my hand, and gave Fulton a peck on the cheek. My confusion was apparent as they both burst out laughing. Which only led to further confusion. Apparently the bickering that marred the early stages of their stint on Team USA had turned into a deep friendship which had blossomed into something more. “Dwayne picked up on this quicker than you,” Portman joked, referring to puck handling specialist and fellow Duck, Dwayne Robertson.

Portman explained that they had been in a relationship since they were on the Ducks and that the reason his mom wouldn’t let him join the team at Eden Hall was because he had come out to her and she was unwillingly to accept it. “We fought for months, yelling and screaming at each other. She kept trying to pretend I wasn’t gay, even going so far as to set me up with daughters of her friends. One day I just left. I went from friend’s house to friend’s house for as long as they would have me.” Eventually he and his mother settled their differences and before her death three years ago she had even begun to take a liking to Fulton.

It was at this point that Fulton remembered something he had meant to say from the beginning, “Don’t use my last name, ‘Reed’, in your article,” exchanging glances with Dean, “I changed it to Portman after we got married last April. It’s not like I was using it anyway.”

In August of 2007 the Polk County District Court was set to rule on the legality of same-sex marriage in Iowa. Most of the LGBT community was pessimistic about the chances that the law barring such marriages would be overturned, but not Fulton and Portman. “We had family in Galena, a little town close to Iowa, so we decided to stay there the night before the decision was to be handed down.” Cautiously optimistic, the two waited patiently like Boomers on the border of unassigned lands in Oklahoma, eager to stake their claim. On August 30th, the law was ruled unconstitutional. The next morning the same judge issued a stay in anticipation of an appeal to the State Supreme Court. In that short period of time two couples in Iowa were able to obtain marriage licenses; Fulton and Portman were one of those lucky two.

Things haven’t necessarily been easy for them since, but they’ve had the unyielding support of their fellow Ducks, even Dwayne once he fully understood what was going on. “You’d be shocked what some people are willing to say to our faces when we go out,” Fulton said. Even their massive size and strength can’t stop the verbal assaults. But as they have started to eke out enough money and are more comfortable with being open about their relationship than ever before, they hope to lend their money and minor celebrity to the cause to make same-sex marriages legal in all states and put a stop to the discrimination many similar couples face.

Late at night when they start to think of the troubles they may face in the future due to their relationship and their current attempts to adopt a child sometimes worry and depression set in. But before they lay down to what could potentially be a restless sleep they have just the remedy to lift their spirits. And as they drift off the soothing lyrics of Bachman Turner Overdrive’s “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet” wash over them, and they know they can make it through another day.