"OUT" ON THE TRACK

Erick W. Rasco/Sports Illustrated

Dustin Sprouse drives the No. 43 car, in honor of Richard Petty. And, like Petty, he is relentlessly friendly and open. He has burly physique, and a habit of absent mindedly fiddling with the diamond earrings in his left and right lobes. His accent reveals that his home is in West Virginia, and he usually has a warm smile framed by his trim goatee. He is also an openly gay dirt track driver; perhaps the only openly gay dirt track driver.

With five top-10 finishes in his last 11 races in 2021, the 35-year-old Sprouse won the Rookie of the Year award for his class. Sprouse has several more levels to navigate before he can reach his ultimate goal of dirt track racing’s top rung, the Lucas Oil Late Model series. To ascend to that level, though, drivers need sponsors, providing them with the best equipment and the finances to hire full-time crews. Sprouse, in other words, needs the sides of his car to fill up with ads.

Dustin spent hours handling wrenches and learning about engines, chassis and carburetors. He entered his first race at 13 and won his first one at 15. At the same time, Sprouse was struggling with another part of his identity. When he didn’t attend his prom at Parkersburg South High and headed to the racetrack instead, he attributed it to his love of racing. He not only dated girls but also got engaged to his high school girlfriend by the time he was 18. “I just tried to make everybody happy by doing the American dream and stuff,” he says. Within a few years, though, he called off the engagement to, as he says, be who he is.

Sprouse had to strategize about revealing his sexuality at the track, much as he must assess risk behind the wheel. He landed here: “I don’t flaunt it in people’s faces. When I’m at the racetrack, I’m just another guy there competing, racing. I’m just one of the guys. What I do behind closed doors is my business, not theirs. But if you ask me, I will tell you, ‘Yeah, I’m gay.’ ”

Sprouse has heard the f-word, what he calls “the worst word in the vocabulary of the LGBT community.” Friends tell him it’s been used, as well, when he’s been out of earshot. Sprouse says that when he won his first race, “I actually had somebody come up to the fence, and they said to me they hope I die.”  But, overwhelmingly, he feels that he’s judged on his performance, skills and sportsmanship, not on his sexual orientation. He has a small army of fans and is popular among other drivers.

But his car remains conspicuously light on decals compared with other competitors’.  Time and again, he’s gotten vague promises of help, only to see the partnerships fizzle. He can draw only one conclusion. “I’ve found it hard with my lifestyle to get sponsors,” he says. “It’s also harder for me to ask somebody because I’m afraid to be judged. And I don’t want that.” “I have three of the four pillars [to win],” he says. “I have the crew. I have the technical support. And I have the moral support of the family and stuff. I just need the financial support.”

For all the obstacles in his way, he still remains optimistic. “I’m low-cost. I’m taking used bars, stuff from people, and I’m competing with these guys . . . and they’re out there in $100,000 cars and stuff?” He laughs and imagines what his competition is thinking. “There’s a gay male with used and borrowed stuff from people, and he’s [ahead of] me.”  And that leads him to look ahead to 2022 and audition some playful trash talk: “Your straight butts are chasing my gay butt around the racetrack. ’Cause I’m beating you.”

If you want to learn more about Dustin Sprouse's complex story, including how one of his crew members participated in the January 6th assault on the Capitol Building, read the complete Sports Illustrated article written by Jon Wertheim HERE.