Jack's Camp Friends Newsletter |
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Remember in The Sandlot when the Babe Ruth ball lands over the fence into the Beast’s yard?
Summer screeches to a halt. Smalls, Benny, Ham, Squints and the rest of the crew stand there knowing what’s on the other side.
They’ve heard the stories.
They know there’s some risk.
But they also know they have to get it back.
So they start scheming. Building contraptions. Coming up with increasingly elaborate plans. All summer, they’re working this problem themselves. No adults, just them figuring it out.
And meanwhile, they’ve been spending the rest of the time playing pickup, sleeping out in treehouses, and trying to steal a lifeguard kiss at the pool.
Been thinking The Sandlot a decent amount lately as we think about summer plan.
Not just because the flick is perfect storytelling, but because I think the movie might be one of the best ways to explain what we’re actually trying to create at camp.
Two Versions of Freedom
80s and 90s coming-of-age movies had basically two models of childhood freedom.
In Stand By Me, kids are genuinely in legit danger. Bullies out for blood. Absent adults. Dodging trains. Looking for a real-life dead body.
Great movie. But definitely not safe.
Then there’s The Sandlot.
Kids running wild all summer. Getting up to stuff that would make parents nervous if they knew all the details. Going after the ball in the Beast’s yard. Running around from sun up until the streetlights came on.
But even when the massive dog is chasing them through the neighborhood, it’s never actually dangerous. There’s always safety within earshot. The lifeguard is watching. Someone’s mom is home.
It feels unsupervised to the kids. But it’s fundamentally safe.
That’s the difference. And that’s what camp’s got going for it.
The Thing That Doesn’t Exist Anymore
The Sandlot kind of childhood mostly doesn’t exist in neighborhoods anymore.
Kids don’t roam free all summer. They don’t organize their own games as much. Don’t have that feeling of being in their own world while adults exist somewhere in the background.
Camp might be the last place where this still happens.
Where kids get that sensation of independence like choosing their activities, navigating friendships, solving their own problems, but the whole thing is actually held by a structure they can’t quite see.
They feel like they’re living in The Sandlot. We know they’re safe.
That gap between what kids experience and what parents need to trust? That’s the whole game.
The Language Problem
I sometimes struggle to explain this to parents.
It’s “easy” to use words like “structured independence” or “age-appropriate autonomy” or “scaffolded risk-taking.”
And parents nod politely while their eyes glaze over.
But if you say, “Remember that summer in The Sandlot? That’s what we’re going for…” it’s a much easier bridge.
Camp parents are millennials now. They grew up with these flicks. The Sandlot or Wet Hot American Summer for the R-rated crowd.
These are great reference points for what childhood should feel like. Is it all accurate? Nah, but that isn’t the point. The nostalgia isn’t just emotional, it’s instructional.
I try to say things like, “Camp is the new old neighborhood,” knowing parents don’t need a youth development theory dissertation.
They just need to remember what it felt like to spend all day outside with friends, knowing you were okay but feeling completely free.
That’s the thing we’re selling. Not just to parents, but to kids too.
How This Actually Shows Up
I’m not saying we should all rebrand our camps with 90s movie themes (though honestly, that could be fun).
But I do think this language works in ways our usual camp-speak doesn’t.
Things like:
In a parent newsletter: “Today your kids organized their own kickball tournament. Very Sandlot energy. Very much the kind of summer we’re building here.”
On a tour: “You know how in The Sandlot the kids feel like they’re running the show, but there’s actually lifeguards and parents nearby? That’s our whole philosophy.”
In website copy: “We’re creating the kind of summer freedom you remember from childhood - the kind that doesn’t really exist in neighborhoods anymore.”
It’s not just nostalgia marketing. It’s helping parents understand the actual environment their kids will be in.
The right cultural reference does more work than 500 words of developmental psychology explanation.
Why I Think This Works
Full disclosure: I’m not 100% sure this messaging will land everywhere. We’re still testing it.
But it feels really right.
Because when I watch The Sandlot, I see camp.
And more importantly, when parents watch it, they see what they want for their kids.
Not helicopter parenting. Not complete abandonment. Just… summer. Real, messy, memorable summer.
The kind where you come home with stories you’ll tell for decades.
That’s what most of us are trying to build. We’ve just been struggling to name it in a way that clicks instantly.
Maybe this is it.
Your kids still get to feel like they’re in their own world. You still get to know they’re actually safe.
That’s the whole thing.
So maybe the next time a parent asks me what makes camp different or special I’ll just say:
“You’re killing me Smalls…” and explain the movie that explains camp.
You got this,
Jack
P.S. BTW, I think we have an awesome idea for camp branding around this. Excited to share if we can get it going.
P.P.S - What’s your camp’s movie equivalent?
Not every camp is The Sandlot. Some might be more Moonrise Kingdom or Heavyweights or something else entirely.
But I bet there’s a movie that captures what you’re building. Reply back and let me know.