It’s not often that you see two pirate-bearded, beer-chugging bruisers hugging it out and having a good old cry. Yet that was the spectacle last week when Philadelphia Eagles stalwart Jason Kelce announced his retirement from the NFL. In a tear-streaked press conference, the American football star spoke movingly about his relationship with his younger brother, Kansas City Chiefs’ Travis, Taylor Swift’s boyfriend, who had been busy sobbing in the front row.
How heartwarming and healthy. It’s high time that male emotion was normalised. Mine was perhaps the last generation to be taught that boys don’t cry. Sure, you were allowed the odd meltdown while still in short trousers but, once your age hit double figures, it was time to stiffen that upper lip. Toughen up. Don’t be a cry baby. Grown-up male tears were the preserve of disgraced public figures fishing for sympathy and other attention seekers. The only time a real man’s eyes watered was while tucking into a vindaloo. Another pint of Kingfisher please, waiter, we’ve got a lively one here.
When Paul Gascoigne cried at Italia ’90, it was such a rare sight that it became an era-defining image. He never lived it down. Gazza’s Spitting Image puppet had plastic breasts strapped to its chest and jets of water permanently spraying from its eyes. It’s only recently that his tears have been overtaken by fishing rods and fried chicken in the popular imagination.
In my day, a wobbly chin was seen as weakness. Something to prompt suspicion or mockery. Memes of Michael Jordan, Rylan Clark, EastEnders’ Ian Beale, and Dawson Leery from Dawson’s Creek dissolving into tears are still widely used on social media for the lolz.
But nowadays you can’t move for blokes publicly boo-hooing. Men proudly boast about blubbing at the ending of One Day, the latest Paul Mescal film or their football team’s valiant defeat. They bawl over relationship break-ups. As the Streets’ Mike Skinner sang: “Dry your eyes, mate. I know it’s hard to take but her mind has been made up.”
Ian Wright cried his way into the nation’s hearts when reunited with his life-changing schoolteacher, Mr Pigden. And in 2022, tennis titans Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal were pictured on front pages, cheeks wet and holding hands. Olympians get damp-eyed on the podium. Proud dads from David Beckham to Barack Obama shed tears at their children’s achievements. Seemingly every week on Strictly Come Dancing someone weeps about a waltz or sobs over a salsa.
Despite fears over the rise of Andrew Tate-style toxic masculinity, there’s been a generational shift. I find myself envying younger men’s easygoing vulnerability and lack of shame in displaying sentiment.
Besides, well-used tear ducts have their benefits. Mental health experts agree that putting on a brave face isn’t helping anyone. Crying can be a powerful, proactive way to counteract anxiety. The first step towards recognising and dealing with problems. It’s not emotionally incontinent. It’s emotionally articulate.
Nowadays crying is seen as a strong, in-touch-with-your-feelings, admirably enlightened thing to do. Any social stigma has been reduced by normalisation. If undisputed alphas such as Gordon Ramsay, LeBron James and the Kelce brothers are finding something in their eye, why can’t the rest of us? I’m welling up just thinking about it. Pass the man-size Kleenex.