Happy fourth, Wingman faithful. While I’ve been busy OD’ing on wholesome summer fun (think sprinkler runs, corn on the cob and sticky ice cream faces), I’ve been thinking about what this holiday really means. And so far I’ve come up with the following: time with family, the smell of barbecue, lightning bugs, cold beer on the patio, sandy toes and, of course, the birth of our nation.

And what a badass one she is at that.

For all of her flaws, on this the anniversary of the birth of our country, it’s only fair that we salute her, the men and women who defend her, and all of the ideals we’ve fought to uphold for the past 236 years.

Say what you will about our undeniably-flawed U.S of A., what you can’t deny is that here anything is possible. She might not always be the prettiest girl at the dance, but she’s ours. Like it or not.

And what better embodiment of old-fashioned 4th of July nostalgia than a nod to our national pastime? Forget apple pie, and move over flag-waving parades and firework displays. It is my patriotic duty to bring you one of my longtime favorites, “The Sandlot.” Because nothing says “Americana” like baseball and smack talk (“you’re killing me, Smalls”).

So enjoy this clip, take care of one another, and whatever you do – don’t play ball like a girl.

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