Latest news with #Sandlot
Forbes
28-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Beachside Hotel Returns To Nantucket With A Splashy New Retro Twist
The retro vibes bring families back in time. In an era when family vacations often feel like military operations—with color-coded itineraries, synchronized nap schedules, and dinner reservations locked in three months ahead—Blue Flag Capital is offering something far rarer: a seaside summer that feels like it wandered out of a 1970s Kodak ad. This May, the reimagined Beachside Hotel will open its doors for its first full season on North Beach Street, offering travelers a sun-drenched antidote to the hyper-curated chaos of modern family travel. Less agenda, more abandon. Less perfection, more cannonballs. Think of it as a retro kids' paradise—one that parents will secretly love even more. "The Beachside Hotel was designed around the idea of an endless summer," said Brad Guidi, Co-Founder and CDO of Blue Flag, who led the redesign in partnership with Parts and Labor Design. "We invite guests to leave itineraries behind and dive into a world of opportunities right here on the property. We wanted to offer a space where children and their parents alike would equally enjoy the property." The new Beachside isn't just another polished inn with a few striped umbrellas and nautical art. It's a full-bodied reimagining of the property originally built in 1960—a time when Nantucket still carried the patina of an artistic haven rather than a billionaire's playground. That spirit courses through every design choice, from the terracotta, cream, and deep green color palette (a conscious departure from the island's usual muted blues and whites) to the furniture selections, many of which are inspired by the nostalgic Americana of The Sandlot. "We chose furniture, fabrics, and materials that are reminiscent of our childhood, even pulling from movies like 'The Sandlot' for inspiration," Guidi said. "There is something comforting and nostalgic when watching Sandlot, so we asked ourselves, how do we evoke this feeling at our hotel? That was the lens by which we designed the property." It shows. Oversized suites, open-air balconies, and single-family rooms offer space to stretch out. A new pool courtyard, anchored by a sprawling mahogany deck and flanked by loungers, invites sun-soaked lounging in between dips. There's a separate kids' pool for the little ones, a restaurant and bar for parents who prefer their sunsets with a cocktail in hand, and a game room that looks like a teenage dream sequence from 1974. In short, It's where you could lose a day—happily—and forget your phone in the room. An arcade room is the cherry on top. Daily programming reinforces the laissez-faire vibe: movie nights on the lawn, communal fire pits perfect for sticky, marshmallow-fueled conversations, and pop-up activities designed less to entertain than to enchant. Guests are encouraged to unplug and let the rhythms of the day lead the way rather than the ping of calendar alerts. "We are excited to re-open our doors to guests this summer and welcome them to this beautifully reimagined property," said Jason Brown, Co-Founder and CEO of Blue Flag. She added, "Whether you're spending time with your family, friends, or neighbors, Beachside is designed to delight you all with immersive hangouts, tucked-away hideouts, and a richness of relaxation that will make every moment feel like a never-ending summer. Most importantly, family is central to everything we do here at Blue Flag. As the father of three wonderful young children, we wanted to create a place where all can enjoy without sacrificing the highest levels of experiential design and hospitality." The location doesn't hurt either. Just a short jaunt from Jetties Beach, Beachside lets guests toggle between pool and ocean without ever needing to load up the car—a crucial perk when your traveling companions require snacks and sunscreen every 17 minutes. The hotel joins Blue Flag's growing portfolio of coastal gems, with sister properties on Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard, Montauk, Greenport, and even Jackson Hole. Yet despite the expanding footprint, Beachside's design manages to feel deeply personal, almost homemade in spirit—a place where memory-making is more important than menu-reading and where the loudest sound at night might just be the crackle of a fire pit, not the buzz of an incoming work email. In a summer travel market increasingly dominated by "experiences" that are anything but spontaneous, the Beachside Hotel offers a refreshing, sun-bleached throwback. It's a reminder that sometimes the greatest luxury isn't a rooftop pool or a Michelin star dinner—but an open afternoon with nothing to do but make up your own games and stay outside until the fireflies come out.
Gulf Today
12-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Gulf Today
‘Eephus' is the best baseball movie since ‘Moneyball'
In Carson Lund's 'Eephus,' two teams — the Riverdogs and Adler's Paint — gather on a neighbourhood field for a baseball game. The leaves are already starting to turn — 'It's getting late early,' as Yogi Berra said — and this is to be the final game for their adult rec league. The field is to be demolished. No one would confuse them for all-stars. A suicide squeeze unfolds in creaky slow motion. The rotund left fielder mutters 'Mother McCree' under his breath when the ball is hit in the gap. But, regardless of skill level, they all care sincerely about the game. 'Eephus,' as leisurely as a late-August double header, simply unfolds along with their game. Except to chase a foul ball or two, the movie stays within the lines of Soldier Field, the nondescript Massachusetts baseball field they're playing on sometime in the 1990s. It spans nine innings, with dugout chatter and fading light. In this slow-pitch gem of a baseball movie — a middle-aged 'Sandlot' — time is slipping away, but they're going down swinging. Money, analytics and whatever's on ESPN can sometimes cloud what sports is to most people: A refuge. 'Eephus,' in that way, is a change-up of a baseball movie, an elegiac ode to the humbler weekend warriors who are driven by nothing but genuine affection for the game. Richly detailed and mordantly deadpan, 'Eephus' adopts their pace of play, soaking up all the sesame-seed flavour that goes along with it. The title comes from an unnaturally slow pitch not slung but lobbed toward home. When I was a kid pitching, I liked to uncork one from time to time, much to my coach's dismay. The metaphor isn't hard to grasp. One player describes it as a pitch you can get bored watching, even making you lose track of time. Much of the same applies to 'Eephus,' which drifts player to player, play to play, less as an ensemble piece than like a roving spectator. The guys, themselves, have no more than a handful of fans, including the diehard scorekeeper Fanny (Cliff Blake). Frederick Wiseman, the great documentarian whose films chronicle nothing so much as institutions kept alive over time, is the voice of the announcer. I earlier called Lund's film an ode, but it's not a sentimental movie. Time's passage, which no ballgame or perfectly thrown eephus can halt, grows increasingly disquieting as the afternoon light gives way to nightfall. That, to finish the game, they play into near-total darkness, with only headlights to see the ball, is a sign of desperation as much as it is commitment. After all, one guy in the dugout is listening to a radio broadcast of a ballgame, from 1972. What's being lost? It's not a strip mall the field is to be turned into but something harder to quibble with: a school. They could drive half an hour to another field, but that's said to be half Little League, half farmer's market. They aren't a collection of pals, either. They don't hang out away from the diamond. Things they don't talk about: work, families, politics. Things they do: eyecare for the ump. In the annals of baseball movies, 'Eephus' doesn't belong in the Hall of Fame with 'Bull Durham' or 'A League of Their Own.' The closest it gets to the big leagues is an appearance by Bill 'Spaceman' Lee, the 1970s southpaw and eephus adherent. But 'Eephus' is just as deserving of a place in that hardball pantheon, only in some minor ball realm, well below single A. Here, they don't throw 'high cheese' but such meatballs that, as one player riffs, you could call it pasta primavera. To call this a field of dreams would be pushing it. But it's a lovely way to pass some time.
Yahoo
06-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Movie Review: 'Eephus' is the best baseball movies since 'Moneyball'
In Carson Lund's 'Eephus,' two teams – the Riverdogs and Adler's Paint – gather on a neighborhood field for a baseball game. The leaves are already starting to turn — 'It's getting late early,' as Yogi Berra said — and this is to be the final game for their adult rec league. The field is to be demolished. No one would confuse them for all-stars. A suicide squeeze unfolds in creaky slow-motion. The rotund left fielder mutters 'Mother McCree' under his breath when the ball is hit in the gap. But, regardless of skill level, they all care sincerely about the game. 'Eephus,' as leisurely as a late-August double header, simply unfolds along with their game. Except to chase a foul ball or two, the movie stays within the lines of Soldier Field, the nondescript Massachusetts baseball field they're playing on sometime in the 1990s. It spans nine innings, with dugout chatter and fading light. In this slow-pitch gem of a baseball movie — a middle-aged 'Sandlot' — time is slipping away, but they're going down swinging. Money, analytics and whatever's on ESPN can sometimes cloud what sports is to most people: A refuge. 'Eephus,' in that way, is a change-up of a baseball movie, an elegiac ode to the humbler weekend warriors who are driven by nothing but genuine affection for the game. Richly detailed and mordantly deadpan, 'Eephus" adopts their pace of play, soaking up all the sesame-seed flavor that goes along with it. The title comes from an unnaturally slow pitch not slung but lobbed toward home. When I was a kid pitching, I liked to uncork one from time to time, much to my coach's dismay. The metaphor isn't hard to grasp. One player describes it as a pitch you can get bored watching, even making you lose track of time. Much of the same applies to 'Eephus,' which drifts player to player, play to play, less as an ensemble piece than like a roving spectator. The guys, themselves, have no more than a handful of fans, including the diehard scorekeeper Fanny (Cliff Blake). Frederick Wiseman, the great documentarian whose films chronicle nothing so much as institutions kept alive over time, is the voice of the announcer. I earlier called Lund's film an ode, but it's not a sentimental movie. Time's passage, which no ballgame or perfectly thrown eephus can halt, grows increasingly disquieting as the afternoon light gives way to nightfall. That, to finish the game, they play into near-total darkness, with only headlights to see the ball, is a sign of desperation as much as it is commitment. After all, one guy in the dugout is listening to a radio broadcast of a ballgame, from 1972. What's being lost? It's not a strip mall the field is to be turned into but something harder to quibble with: a school. They could drive half an hour to another field, but that's said to be half Little League, half farmer's market. They aren't a collection of pals, either. They don't hang out away from the diamond. Things they don't talk about: work, families, politics. Things they do: eyecare for the ump. In the annals of baseball movies, 'Eephus' doesn't belong in the Hall of Fame with 'Bull Durham' or 'A League of Their Own.' The closest it gets to the big leagues is an appearance by Bill 'Spaceman' Lee, the 1970s southpaw and eephus adherent. But 'Eephus' is just as deserving of a place in that hardball pantheon, only in some minor ball realm, well below single A. Here, they don't throw 'high cheese' but such meatballs that, as one player riffs, you could call it pasta primavera. To call this a field of dreams would be pushing it. But it's a lovely way to pass some time. 'Eephus,' a Music Box release is not rated by the Motion Picture Association but contains coarse language. Running time: 98 minutes. Three stars out of four. Jake Coyle, The Associated Press
Associated Press
06-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Associated Press
Movie Review: ‘Eephus' is the best baseball movies since ‘Moneyball'
In Carson Lund's 'Eephus,' two teams – the Riverdogs and Adler's Paint – gather on a neighborhood field for a baseball game. The leaves are already starting to turn — 'It's getting late early,' as Yogi Berra said — and this is to be the final game for their adult rec league. The field is to be demolished. No one would confuse them for all-stars. A suicide squeeze unfolds in creaky slow-motion. The rotund left fielder mutters 'Mother McCree' under his breath when the ball is hit in the gap. But, regardless of skill level, they all care sincerely about the game. 'Eephus,' as leisurely as a late-August double header, simply unfolds along with their game. Except to chase a foul ball or two, the movie stays within the lines of Soldier Field, the nondescript Massachusetts baseball field they're playing on sometime in the 1990s. It spans nine innings, with dugout chatter and fading light. In this slow-pitch gem of a baseball movie — a middle-aged 'Sandlot' — time is slipping away, but they're going down swinging. Money, analytics and whatever's on ESPN can sometimes cloud what sports is to most people: A refuge. 'Eephus,' in that way, is a change-up of a baseball movie, an elegiac ode to the humbler weekend warriors who are driven by nothing but genuine affection for the game. Richly detailed and mordantly deadpan, 'Eephus' adopts their pace of play, soaking up all the sesame-seed flavor that goes along with it. The title comes from an unnaturally slow pitch not slung but lobbed toward home. When I was a kid pitching, I liked to uncork one from time to time, much to my coach's dismay. The metaphor isn't hard to grasp. One player describes it as a pitch you can get bored watching, even making you lose track of time. Much of the same applies to 'Eephus,' which drifts player to player, play to play, less as an ensemble piece than like a roving spectator. The guys, themselves, have no more than a handful of fans, including the diehard scorekeeper Fanny (Cliff Blake). Frederick Wiseman, the great documentarian whose films chronicle nothing so much as institutions kept alive over time, is the voice of the announcer. I earlier called Lund's film an ode, but it's not a sentimental movie. Time's passage, which no ballgame or perfectly thrown eephus can halt, grows increasingly disquieting as the afternoon light gives way to nightfall. That, to finish the game, they play into near-total darkness, with only headlights to see the ball, is a sign of desperation as much as it is commitment. After all, one guy in the dugout is listening to a radio broadcast of a ballgame, from 1972. What's being lost? It's not a strip mall the field is to be turned into but something harder to quibble with: a school. They could drive half an hour to another field, but that's said to be half Little League, half farmer's market. They aren't a collection of pals, either. They don't hang out away from the diamond. Things they don't talk about: work, families, politics. Things they do: eyecare for the ump. In the annals of baseball movies, 'Eephus' doesn't belong in the Hall of Fame with 'Bull Durham' or 'A League of Their Own.' The closest it gets to the big leagues is an appearance by Bill 'Spaceman' Lee, the 1970s southpaw and eephus adherent. But 'Eephus' is just as deserving of a place in that hardball pantheon, only in some minor ball realm, well below single A. Here, they don't throw 'high cheese' but such meatballs that, as one player riffs, you could call it pasta primavera. To call this a field of dreams would be pushing it. But it's a lovely way to pass some time.
USA Today
25-02-2025
- Entertainment
- USA Today
'Sandlot' star Patrick Renna on new book, why 'Smalls is still killing Ham' 30 years later
'Sandlot' star Patrick Renna on new book, why 'Smalls is still killing Ham' 30 years later Show Caption Hide Caption Patrick Renna on 'The Sandlot' legacy and his new baseball kids book From "The Sandlot" to storytelling, actor Patrick Renna shares why baseball, friendship and nostalgia inspired his first kid's book. USA TODAY More than three decades after 'The Sandlot' swung for the fences, Scotty Smalls (Tom Guiry) is still striking out with Hamilton 'Ham' Porter (Patrick Renna). The actors, who played one continuous game of baseball under the watchful eye of a Mastiff named The Beast in the 1993 movie, have a group chat, with 'a lot of juice in there,' Renna, 45, says. Guiry is 'a big meme-er and it's really obnoxious,' he jokes. 'He doesn't sleep, and you'll get these crazy memes at 2 a.m. He's literally killing me 30 years later. Smalls is still killing Ham.' Renna, unforgettable as the smack-talking catcher who will diss you for mixing 'your Wheaties with your mama's toe jam,' has written a children's book. 'A Little Slugger's Guide to the Unwritten Rules of Baseball and Life' is available now and gives readers 20 life lessons inspired by America's favorite pastime. 'Life is a game, isn't it?' Renna says. 'But baseball, specifically, is the sport I know so well.' Renna grew up playing Little League in Boston, and then booked 'The Sandlot' after his second audition ever. In his 30s, his softball teammates would quote the film mom and tell him to 'get dirty." Today Renna's two children play ball, and he coaches, "so that was a very easy thing to find the kind of corollaries there and (the book) sort of just flowed.' The book opens with a rule picked up on the Salt Lake City set of 'The Sandlot': 'Always be ready.' Renna remembers a time he had to put that into practice while filming. The scene in which Ham swaps barbs with a rival baseball team was originally written for Benny 'The Jet' Rodriguez (Mike Vitar), Renna says. He remembers about an hour before the scene, director David Mickey Evans 'came in my trailer ... threw the script at me dramatically and said, 'This is yours, kid. Get off book. You've got an hour.'' Enter Ham to save the day and eviscerate the other team with words. Renna's comedic performance is the stuff MVPs are made of, Guiry praises. 'I rewatched the movie not too long ago with my daughter,' says the actor who brought the awkward Smalls to life. 'And it was the first time I actually sat back and (saw) Pat's deliveries on a lot of things are just amazing. 'When I read the script, it wasn't funny,' Guiry adds. 'But his delivery was what was funny, and I thought he was just perfect in the role.' So to be legendary, 'it's up to you to always be ready for what the day might bring,' Renna writes. 'And who knows, it just might change the trajectory of your life.' Renna also advises, 'Practice isn't optional' (Rule No. 3), to 'Keep Swinging' (Rule No. 7) and that 'Failure is part of the game (and it's a part of life)' (Rule No. 12). And he emphasizes the importance of, 'Rule No. 18: Give it your all,' while drawing on some enlightening words from Bryan Cranston. 'He said as an actor, when you go into that audition, you give it your all and you put everything you possibly can into that audition,' Renna says. 'And the second that door closes you leave it all behind. Because it's now out of your hands. And being on the other side, and casting as a producer, casting people I've seen that to be true. It really is out of your hands in those moments. But if you give it your all, that's all that matters.'That kind of knowledge? We'll gladly have s'more of that.
