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in: Character, Manly Lessons

Legends Never Die: What Benny “the Jet” Rodriguez Can Teach Us About Being a Prestigious Man

A boy with dark hair holds a baseball bat, preparing to swing, while standing on a grassy field near a chain-link fence.

My kids and I watched The Sandlot on the 4th of July. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen this movie. It never feels old or stale.

The Sandlot is the all-time greatest kid’s summer movie. It’s the Platonic ideal of a kid’s summer movie.

It has it all. Baseball (of course), sleepovers in a treehouse, hijinks at the community pool, neighborhood cookouts and fireworks, and backyard adventures. The Sandlot depicts a childhood many older men remember and boys raised on screens wish they had.

While watching it again, I think I figured out what gives this 30-year-old kid flick its staying power.

First, it perfectly captures the rough-and-tumble joy of male bonding.

In 1969, anthropologist Lionel Tiger published Men In Groups. He highlighted how human males are adept at forming male-only coalitions — gangs — in which they take part in intra- and inter-competitions. They jockey within the group for status, and they bond by working together to take something on — another tribe, a business, or nature itself.

That dynamic is at the heart of The Sandlot.

Ten boys stand in a row on a baseball field, some holding gloves and one holding a bat, posing for a group photo on a sunny day.

The Sandlot gang forms a “coalitional group”: bound by ritual (daily baseball), hierarchy (Benny is the undisputed leader, and there is good-natured teasing), and a shared mission (beat the rich-kid team; outsmart the Beast). Their friendship isn’t built on heart-to-heart talks, but on sweat, risk, and play. The Sandlot shows male friendship at its most archetypal.

The other reason I think The Sandlot has stood the test of time is that the film showcases a shining example of positive masculinity in Benny “the Jet” Rodriguez.

Benny is the guy.

No one is as cool as Benny.

He has, as my kids would say, infinite aura.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Benny. As a 42-year-old man, I still want to be like Benny.

But what makes Benny so cool?

Well, Benny’s got prestige.

We talked about what prestige is in our article “The Myth of the Alpha Male.” It’s one of the two ways men can gain status in the social world. The other is dominance. Here’s the TLDR:

Dominance is aggressive and coercive. It’s about intimidating others and demanding respect.

Prestige is earned. You gain prestige through competence, generosity, and service to others. People freely confer respect on men of prestige based on their valuable skills, knowledge, and/or moral character.

Dominant men make others feel small. Prestigious men make others feel inspired.

Of the paths to status, prestige is more effective. While dominant men can gain status in the short-term, people come to resent them and try to usurp their power. People are more loyal to prestigious men, who maintain enduring influence.

Benny is the epitome of prestige. That’s why he’s so damn cool.

Here are some lessons men — whether they’re 14 or 44 — can learn from Benny on how to be more prestigious:

Be Competent

Two boys play baseball; one is batting with a bat and wearing a blue cap, while the other crouches behind him as catcher, ready to catch the ball.

Prestige starts with being really good at something.

Benny is really good at baseball. He knocks the guts out of a ball and steals bases with ease. But his competence goes beyond the sandlot. He’s the one with the courage and know-how to retrieve the Babe Ruth ball from the Beast’s yard. The other boys look up to Benny and follow him because he’s earned their respect through his competence.

Want to be prestigious? Start off by getting so good at something people can’t ignore you.

Have Amazing Drip

A teenage boy in a green and white shirt prepares to bat at a baseball field, while a catcher kneels behind him in full gear.

I’ve always admired Benny’s style. It’s laid-back and functional — casual but subtly put-together. PF Flyers. Baseball shirt or a tucked-in tee with a camp collar shirt over it. Cuffed jeans. Ball cap. His look is timeless. I’d wear it today.

A prestigious man takes pride in his appearance. He knows how he dresses signals his self-awareness and discipline.

Build Others Up

A boy in a blue cap hands another boy a baseball cap outside a suburban house with a vintage car parked nearby.

The thing that really makes Benny prestigious is how he lifts others up. Benny combines competence and warmth, which is the recipe for charisma.

The way Benny takes Scotty Smalls under his wing at the beginning of the film is a masterclass in charismatic prestige.

Smalls is the new kid who can’t throw, can’t catch, doesn’t know who Babe Ruth is, and wears a dorky fish hat. While the other boys shun Scotty, Benny makes him feel included. He doesn’t humiliate Smalls, but he doesn’t baby him either. When Scotty started feeling sorry for himself for being such a wiener, Benny kindly and firmly told him to get over himself and to quit thinking so much. He showed Smalls how to throw a baseball and then, like a boss, gave Smalls the confidence he needed by hitting a pop fly right into his glove.

Benny’s aura doesn’t end there, though. As the boys are walking home from the sandlot, Smalls tries to give back the baseball glove that Benny lent him for the day. “Keep it, man,” Benny nonchalantly says.

Then Benny kindly tells Smalls to switch out his dorky outfit for something better suited for baseball on the sandlot — a t-shirt and jeans. Benny also tells Smalls to burn his fish hat and replace it with a proper ball cap. “Well, yeah, this is the only one I had,” Smalls sheepishly replies.

And then Benny does the most dadgum smooth thing ever. He pulls out an extra hat from his back pocket, hands it to Smalls, and says, “Not anymore. It’s one of my old hats.”

So smooth!

When the gang celebrated beating the snooty rich kid team, Benny treated them to a night at the fair. A prestigious man is a generous man.

Through small yet impactful gestures, Benny imparts a lesson in how demonstrating prestige involves making those around you feel awesome.

Serve Others

A large dog on a chain stands in a cluttered yard, facing a man near a gate with green fencing. A basketball and various objects lie scattered on the ground.

Prestige culminates in service. When the gang’s other plans to get the Babe Ruth ball back fail, Benny laces up his new PF Flyers and jumps the fence to pickle the Beast. It’s an act of self-sacrifice for the team and for Smalls. And in doing it, Benny becomes more than a good ballplayer. He becomes a legend. Prestigious men serve others.

In a situation where life imitates art, Mike Vitar, the actor who played Benny, went on to become a firefighter in Los Angeles (and his brother, who plays the older version of Benny in the movie, joined the LA police department).

Heroes Get Remembered; Legends Never Die

While Benny eventually makes it to the major leagues, it was his big league attitude that made him the leader of his friends, a model of prestige, and a great cinematic example of positive masculinity. It’s demonstrating skill, encouraging people, helping others — and even looking good while doing it — that makes a man of any age influential and ensures he’ll be long, and well, remembered.

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