So please excuse me while I crack open another beer and fill out my application, because my dream of finally making it in pro baseball is apparently still alive, especially since I haven’t exercised in 22 days.
They keep the stadium loud and have got the moves. They're the Ultimate Dad Bod Cheerleading Squad. This is On Stage with Marty Jones of the Man-Nanas. pic.twitter.com/qMJrVAGQ1c
To be eligible for consideration alongside the legendary Marty Jones on the sidelines of a Savannah Bananas game, the minimum requirements are unbridled enthusiasm for baseball and a physique that makes Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler look like Mr. Olympia. Not just any dad makes the cut as a Man-Nana, but I think I’m on the right track.
In fact, I’ve sort of been preparing for this my entire life.
I’ve loved baseball since I was a chubby kid hoping to one day become my idol, Hall-of-Famer Kirby Puckett, a throwback ballplayer who starred in the big leagues while sporting an iconic, “fire hydrant” physique.
Unfortunately, my skills peaked in 6th grade when I hit puberty before all my peers and parlayed my grown-boy strength into Little League parking lot bombs for a couple of seasons. Once my peers caught up to me, though, my “parking lot power” disappeared and I started to resemble “Puck” in physique only.
Yet my passion for the game of baseball is still here today, manifested in the form of a proud, Tee-ball father, coach, and dad bod Ambassador. I stalk the sidelines in full uniform, still practicing the swing that earned me so many parking lot bombs back in my elementary-school heyday. I’m sure all the other parents appreciate my enthusiasm or wonder whether I’m mentally fit enough to be coaching their sons.
It might have taken a little longer than I thought, but my dream of making it to “The Show” is still alive, thanks to the Man-Nanas. All I have to do is maintain my dad bod until their next tryout (easy) and convince my wife to leave our L.A. roots for faraway, humid Georgia (hard).
It’s worth a shot. Lord knows I’m not getting a six-pack this summerthat doesn’t read “IPA” on the label. There are no Dodgers scouts admiring my smooth, bare-handed scoops and my MLB-worthy bat flips at my son’s tee-ball games (I know, because I looked for them last Sunday).
But if I keep leaning into my baseball dad-ness with stupid bouts of enthusiasm, a complete lack of inhibitions (the IPA’s should help with that too), and a full commitment to a dadbod diet and fitness plan (score another point for the IPA’s), perhaps I still have a shot at “The Show.”
I didn’t go pro in baseball. But thanks to the Man-Nanas and Dad Bod Summer, perhaps I could go pro in… baseball cheerleading.
As Cody Johnson says, “If you’ve got a dream, chase it,” all the way to Savannah, Georgia’s Grayson Stadium, where Dad Bod Summer is not only a lifestyle. It’s an institution.
Our dad bod cheerleading squad, the Man-Nanas, are bringing all the moves and all the hype to Grayson Stadium. Live up to your full potential. The Bananas need you. Savannah needs you.