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.
