Washed Weekly: Beach & Baseball
The beers have been purchased.
Welcome to Washed Weekly — a weekly newsletter that will feature original columns, quick reads, exclusive product drops, and an offering of some of the best content we’ve created throughout the week that was. Read it, enjoy it, and pass it on to anyone you think will enjoy it, too. You can also check out the Washed network of podcasts.
The Beach Blog
by Dave
The beers have been purchased. I did a tactical Total Wine trip at lunch to duck the post-work booze crowd. It was the first time I’ve managed to spend less than three digits on my pre-beach alcohol run. For those tracking, we grabbed a case of Coors Light, eight (8) High Noons, and exactly one (1) bottle of Renieri. That Renieri has been my go-to for some time now, but I did notice a two-dollar price jump. Outside of hosing down the Washed Media Bison cooler, doing a small load of laundry, and loading the car, I’m ready.
The drive down to Port A is always a blast. Once you get around San Antonio, you’re freed up to enjoy all the things that come with a little family road trip. Take music, for example. As the patriarch on Father’s Day weekend, you might think I have full control over the audio. That’s not the case, though. I actually take requests from the back seat where a 5-year-old will ask for “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” at least 45 times. Not just the original. We’ll do the Despicable Me version, as well as the Weezer cover which sucks by the way. There’s nothing different about it except that Weezer is doing the song. It sounds the exact same. What a give-up by that band. Make it your own! It’s one of the best songs of the eighties. Anyway, we’ll be setting some important ground rules for song requests before we set out on the road, and I will be making a playlist. I hope these kids like Steely Dan.
I’m pumped. I’ve got everything a 41-year-old dad needs for a beach trip with the fam. Speaker with Bluetooth Technology? Yes, and it’s already charged. All the sunblock and multiple bucket hats? You bet. We don’t take any chances with fine lines and wrinkles. Resistance bands that I took home from physical therapy last year? You’re damn right. My kids are in prime water-tossing age. If you think I’d just go out into the ocean, or into the pool, and just start throwing them around without a proper warmup, you are mistaken. I’ve got a whole routine that I have to do before I even think about hitting the beach with them. If you think that’s overkill, you haven’t been following along. They live to get chunked around a crowded pool. I will hear “Again! Again!” no less than 200 times this weekend. Not to mention the fact that my oldest is a certified baseball guy now. We’re gonna be winging balls around the Gulf all day long. I have to be prepared.
The real challenge goes down on Saturday night, when we do the unthinkable: attempt a sit-down dinner at a somewhat nice restaurant with a post-beach 2 and five-year-old. It’s the main event. It’s my Father’s Day dinner, and I have no idea what to expect from these two. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve hit a restaurant with the entire family, but if dinner at home is any indication, this could be a white-knuckle ride. These two lads think they’re funny (they are), and they live to make each other laugh. It’s like eating dinner with two prop comics while they do competing sets. For the love of God, eat your food. If it’s like every other dinner outing, we’ll be in and out of there as quickly as possible. Yes, I would like a box for this.
It’s about that time for me. I’ll be out of office for a few, checking emails periodically, and hopefully volume shooting US Open tweets on Saturday and Sunday. I’ll see you next week with salt-kissed hair, an even tan, and two shoulders that have full range of motion. Bubye.
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Understanding “Baseball Guy”
A hot mic moment after the Texas-UGA baseball game on Tuesday night caught the attention of many, but for real #BaseballGuys, it was hardly worthy of more than a snicker. Texas lost the game (sadly left their bats in Austin), ending the Longhorns’ otherwise solid season.
Freshman of the year, Anthony Pack Jr., with a camera in his face, was gathering some dirt from the infield at Charles Schwab Field, aka “The Chuck,” to collect in a jar that would presumably be going home with him while talking about getting back to the College World Series next year. It was a touching and sentimental moment for the freshman at the conclusion of what was a fantastic first season in burnt orange.
Pack Jr. was unaware what his teammates were discussing just out of frame of the camera, but still very much within audio range of the camera’s mic. Maybe he didn’t acknowledge his teammates’ words because he was focused in the moment while mourning the end of his season, or maybe he simply couldn’t hear them, or perhaps it didn’t register with him because he’s heard shit like this a million times before. As a former baseball guy myself, I’d bet on the latter.
“I’m gonna stick this dirt up my ass.”
That was uttered in the conversation taking place within earshot of Pack’s heartfelt goodbye to The Chuck.
The very same dirt that Anthony Pack Jr. was collecting, perhaps with soft tears beginning to collect in the corners of his eyes, to bring home with him, as if it had magical powers and was to be cherished, a little piece of sacred ground that would soon adorn the shelving in his modest Austin apartment, a little promise to himself that he would return to the holy grounds of college baseball in Omaha, a constant reminder that everything he works for is to reach the highest level of success on that meticulously engineered mixture of sand, silt, and clay…
His teammate would rather stick it up his ass.
The video was posted by the official Texas Baseball account on Twitter, but was later removed after enough people pointed out the unfortunate hot mic moment. Sadly, I can’t find it anywhere. Scrubbing a video from the internet is no easy feat, but alas, it’s no more.
Baseball is as beautiful as baseball guys are weird. While this slip-up moment from the infield at The Chuck showed the world a glimpse of what baseball guys are about, it’s old hat for those of us who have spent ample time in dugouts and baseball locker rooms.
Listen, they’re just weird guys. I have stories, some of which I can’t share on a public platform. Some, though, I can.
Like the time our head coach set a dead bird on fire on our pitching mound to reverse a losing streak.
Or the time we brought a dead squirrel into the locker room and left it, for a few days, hanging from a locker as its blood slowly dripped onto the carpet below.
Or the infamous “light shows” that one teammate performed after each win…and after he exited the showers, but before he put clothes on. It may have included a bow tie.
All I’m saying is don’t be alarmed by the antics or words of baseball guys. Stuff like this falls squarely within the “normal” spectrum of baseball guy behavior. And don’t think too much about Pack’s teammate’s dirt comment. Chances are almost 100% that he doesn’t actually want to stick it up his ass.
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Wonder if Port A Saltwater is as good for your hair as the natural saline from your tears?