• by Barbara Lippert , Columnist, August 16, 2024

“Mean ole baseball star gets wooed out of retirement to coach a hopelessly underdog Little League team” is one of those universal movie tropes that, in various forms, has supported many a heart-tugging, crowd-pleasing, G-rated film.

There’s no crying in baseball, after all.

But there are plenty of sweet flubs in ”Hungry for the Win,” this delightful new Sizzler ad campaign in the form of a faux documentary from Mischief @no fixed address.

It chronicles the world of the Simi Valley River Dogs, an actual team of nine-year-olds struggling to score just one run in their preseason games.

Can they reverse their losing streak so that they can share a celebratory dinner at Sizzler as their reward?

It’s an interesting question, since the steakhouse chain is also in need of a turnaround.

For many adults who are old enough to remember when they thought Sizzler was a cool place to go in the ‘80s or ‘90s (hey-- fried zucchini was having a moment!) the place no longer holds that same allure.

Founded in California in 1958, the company had its salad days for the next three decades or so, but as the competition in the marketplace grew, Sizzler declared bankruptcy in 1996, and again in 2020.

So  “Hungry” focuses on that one contemporary nugget that feels real and connects: that Sizzler is a great place to go to celebrate “wins” for kids, and everyone—even if that means only putting a single run on the board. (Spoiler alert: that’s what happens.) 

But first, enter a new coach to attempt to clean up the team:  the great but somewhat charisma-challenged MLB Hall of Famer, pitcher Randy Johnson.

But he’s game.

Just seeing “the Big Unit,” the 6’10 former Arizona Diamondback, stand next to the kids, casting a giant grey-bearded shadow, is visual fun. But he seems to be missing a certain compassion gene when it comes to building the kids’ self-esteem.

“I’ve seen better swings in a playground,” he tells one boy at bat. In his initial speech, he calls them “losers,” which stings.

At one point, an offscreen interviewer asks Johnson about what he was expecting in this role. After all, he came out of retirement, as he says, after “six back surgeries and a torn rotator cuff that didn’t heal," to be there.

“What was I expecting going into this? I don’t know—maybe some kids who could play the game?”

But he hangs in there, working with the kids for two days, until they play an opposing team. 

The challengers show up wearing all black and wrap-around shades, looking more like short 40-year-olds. Their skills also exceed their age, and they score run after run.  (By the way, the Dogs and Randy are stylin’ in cute red and white hats and jerseys.)

I’ll admit to getting anxious when the team in black starts chanting about burying our guys in the “cemetery.”

Anybody who’s had a kid on a sports team, or has been a kid on a sports team, will relate.

In the end, the Sizzler kids lose, 9 to 1, but they do to score one run, and that’s legit cause for a celebration at Sizzler.

The footage reminded me of how cute a bunch of 9-year-olds can be.

We see some of the goings-on in slow motion, to weird opera music.  They’re entertaining each other, blowing the paper off straws, and boasting about their gastronomical prowess. One kid says, “Guys, I’m kinda grindin’ on these wings. I’ve eaten six.”

Another boy with glasses talks about his expertise with fish. “I’ve eaten tons of sea food,” he says, as he puts away 27 shrimp. 

One of the girls corrects a boy on the name of the cheese he’s eating.

What I loved about this film is that it found a way to be sweet but not saccharine.

The vibe is compellingly human, showing our low points but also our joy.

And it feels especially right coming off the Olympics, when as Americans we got reacquainted with basics like excitement and optimism.

The long-form video runs almost six minutes, but is worth the watch. The hero video is 60-seconds, and leaves us with a cliff-hanger.

There’s no crying in baseball, but there is unlimited shrimp.