When Home Is the Vacation

The overseas summer break hits different when you’ve been gone for 10 straight months.

Let’s talk vacation.

Most people spend all year counting down to it. One week off…maybe two. They take PTO, book a hotel, and post pictures of their feet by a pool.

Athletes are a different story. We live in a weird alternate timeline. Our “vacation” isn’t a break from the grind…it’s usually an awkward gap between contracts. The body still hurts, your bags are barely unpacked, and you are thinking about what's next.

For overseas athletes, it’s even messier. Where is “vacation” when you haven’t been home in 10 months? Do you go explore another country...or do you just go home and sit your ass on your couch?

Rainforests to Chicken Wire 

I had just finished my season with the Cairns Taipans…one of the few teams that really took care of me. They even paid me an extra month to stick around for the end-of-season party, which if you have been following along…is not remotely normal.

So I stayed. And I vacationed…hard.

That month in Cairns, I wasn’t thinking about “rest.” I was living inside a National Geographic episode. I snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef, hiked through the tropical rainforest, and wandered the Outback like a clueless tourist who probably came within inches of something deadly.

And then there was the zoo…

Not long ago, I was listening to comedian Nate Bargatze talk about the Cape Fear Serpentarium in North Carolina. He described a crazy setup with venomous snakes, chicken wire and an audience full of people pretending this was fine.

And all I could think was…Holy shit, I’ve done that.

I ended up at the Cairns Zoo during that same offseason. Besides holding koalas and feeding kangaroos, which, pre-internet, I didn’t realize would fistfight you for no fucking reason, I found myself in the reptile enclosure...and I’m using the word “enclosure” very loosely.

We sat around in bleachers that looked like they were meant for a middle school basketball game, when a guy walked out holding a snake that had definitely killed before. 

He started smiling and cracking jokes while I stood there wondering why everyone was acting like this was fine. The only thing separating us from this deadly taipan was chicken wire. And in the words of Bargatze, chicken wire that, “Had holes in it that I would describe as a little bit bigger than a black mamba.”

I looked around, thinking someone else had to be panicking. But nope. It was just Australians eating meat pies and encouraging their kids to get a better view.

Then it hit me…this was my vacation.

This insane, sunburned, animal-encounter chaos was the break. Most athletes hurry home to unwind. I stayed, and somehow found peace while dodging animals that could kill me. It was beautiful and ridiculous and ruined any chance of a normal summer ever feeling like enough.

Because when your offseason involves the Great Barrier Reef, the Outback, and a near-death snake encounter... Philly in July hits a little different.

The Water’s Dirty as Hell, But Still Feels Like Summer

When I got home, all I wanted was the regular stuff.

Phillies games, Poconos camping trips, and the Jersey Shore…even though the water’s brown and has a distinct smell that is probably pollution, but to me smells like heaven.

I didn't need turquoise blue water, I needed Rita’s Water Ice and the feeling of ungodly hot sand beneath my toes. I needed the sound of someone yelling "Yo! Coming through!" as they tried to squeeze a beach cart through a packed line of umbrellas in Ocean City. I needed Wawa hoagies wrapped in too much paper, eaten in a sand-covered Tommy Bahama chair that hasn't folded right since 2011. 

I needed to hear Scott Franzke and L.A. on a Bluetooth speaker someone swears isn’t that loud. I needed to roll my eyes every time someone calls it “the beach” when it’s clearly the shore.

Because that’s what home is. Messy and familiar

You Don’t Always Need to Escape

Overseas life resets how you see everything. A backyard cookout feels like a 5-star meal after months of hotel buffet trays. A Target run feels like therapy. Chipotle tastes like fine dining.

Sometimes the real luxury isn’t escaping life, it’s going back to the parts of it you forgot you missed.

Vacation doesn’t have to be an island. Sometimes it’s a perfect cheesesteak. Sometimes it’s your uncle talking shit during cornhole. Sometimes it’s sitting on your childhood couch eating something terrible and watching something dumber.

Every Athlete Needs the Break (Even If It’s Weird)

Every athlete needs to reset. But that doesn’t always look the same. Vacations should be relief. So whether you’re island hopping, chilling on the back deck, or sitting in a Waffle House at 2am trying to remember what day it is…take the break.

You earned it.

Even if your vacation this year is just Philly, the Poconos, or the same damn couch you always land on…if it resets your brain, it counts.