And I thought “Dad Bod Summer” was something I should avoid.
The Savannah Bananas semi-pro baseball team is the self-described “Greatest Show in Sports” that sells out every game, goes viral on TikTok, and is redefining baseball’s entertainment potential.
And a key feature of their fan-first, irreverent, hilarious brand of the National Pastime is a “dad bod cheerleading squad” phallically named the “Man-Nanas.”
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.
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 summer that 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.
