In 1999, when James Tuck was dancing shirtless in a Kansas City bar in the middle of summer, on some unconscious level he must have known he would be attracting attention. What Tuck couldn’t have known was that the love of his life was in the bar, and was transfixed.

Tuck was in town traveling with his softball team from San Diego. They had earned a berth in the Gay Softball World Series, an invitational championship tournament. After arriving to the City of Fountains, Tuck and his teammates went on a bar crawl to blow off steam before the tournament began.

It wasn’t long before the group had huddled together in a dance bar, grooving and swaying to the music. Many of the ballplayers were shirtless, their hard bodies silhouetted by disco lights and cigarette smoke.

Grady Mitchell was also in town for the tournament. He and his team hailed from Tampa, Fla. He says the first time he saw Tuck was from across that bar.

“I found his dancing to be very ‘engaging,’” Mitchell said. He admits to staring. “I stood there and watched James for at least 20 minutes.”

Their eyes had not met and no words were exchanged, but their meeting would come. The eventual couple found themselves at another local bar later that evening. Unaware, Mitchell had been glaring at him earlier, this time it was Tuck who was staring.

“I saw his profile first,” Tuck explained, “and when I saw that the face was good, I looked further down. You have to start at the face to see if looking at the rest is even worth the effort.”

Mitchell’s friend noticed the glances and informed him he was being “cruised.”

That was all the opening Mitchell needed. He immediately recognized Tuck from just moments before.

“I went up to him and started a conversation,” Mitchell said.

“I don’t remember what he said to begin,” Tuck admitted, “but it wasn’t your typical opening line. It was an actual start to a real conversation. It was refreshing.”

Sparks flew, and Tuck admits to being interested immediately. “Who wouldn’t love my sweetie-pie’s face?” Tuck said matter-of-factly.

While physical attraction was the motivator, their mutual love of sports sparked a deeper interest.

“He was a great combination of intellect and athletics,” Tuck says of Mitchell. “It was intriguing to see someone not only play a sport, but play it well.”

At the tournament, Mitchell was playing short-stop for an upper division team and had spent much of his softball career playing in the highest division possible.

When Mitchell asked what position Tuck played, he jokingly answered “as far away from the ball as possible.”

Modesty aside, Tuck’s skills as an outfielder, was for Mitchell too, a major component of interest. “I’m very into guys who play sports,” he said.

Tuck’s intellect also inspired him. “He uses 12-letter words. It’s attractive.”

With the exception of one night, the fledgling couple spent all of their evenings together during the tournament. But as the week came to a close, the two athletes wondered what would happen next.

“I wondered if I would see him again,” Mitchell said.

“I had this intuitive feeling about it,” Tuck said. “I knew there was something different about Grady, [and] that I would hear from him again.”

Tuck didn’t have to wait long. When he got back to San Diego, he received a message from Mitchell saying he had returned home safely and looked forward to talking soon.

After the tournament, the two maintained constant communication for months. Soon Mitchell would visit Tuck in Southern California. The two would fly back and forth between San Diego and Florida for about a year before Tuck would finally propose that Mitchell move and make the Left Coast his home.

Mitchell was uneasy, but he received encouragement from his late twin brother, Brady. “I was very nervous,” Mitchell admitted. “Brady told me I had to follow my heart.”

For Mitchell, the move was difficult. “It was tough to leave my family, but it was tougher to leave my twin,” he explains. Brady Mitchell was a life-long diabetic, and spent many of his 34 years insulin dependent. Just six months after Brady convinced his brother to move, he needed two organ transplants. The surgery was performed, but complications set in, and in August 2002, Brady Mitchell died, leaving a hole in his brother’s life.

Though early on in the relationship, Mitchell turned to Tuck for support. “Because James got to know Brady, I could talk to him about it. I could tell him things, and he would know what I was talking about. It helped a lot,” he said.

In August 2007, Mitchell and Tuck will celebrate eight years together. Though their personalities are different, they complement each other well. Tuck is the more considerate people-pleaser. Mitchell is more direct and abrupt, which can sometimes be mistaken for abrasive.

“I was raised in a family with eight kids,” Mitchell explains. “If you wanted to say something, you had to say it quick.”

It is Mitchell’s plain-spoken nature that Tuck also finds alluring.

“Ya know how, when you meet a person for the first time, you spend the next few meetings peeling away that first impression, and getting to know the real them?” Tuck asked. “There is no fake ‘Grady’ to have to peel away. The person Grady was the first night we met is still the person he is today, and eight years later, that is impressive.”

For Mitchell the relationship is almost effortless. “I didn’t think it was going to be this easy to live with James,” he said.

Tuck and Mitchell is a multi-sport couple. They now play for the same softball team, sponsored by Flicks. The two also play tennis and bowl.

They stay active, communicative and respectful of each other. As for knock-down-drag-out fights? “We’ve never had one of those,” Tuck said. “It’s like we never stopped dating.”