You don’t know Dallas Latos… you might think you do, but you don’t. I’m friends with Dallas Latos, but I don’t really know her. I know that I’m sad she and her hubby Mat, were traded from the Padres to the Reds. Every day since the trade, my blog has been getting hits from Reds fans (I think?) searching for Dallas Latos pictures. An honest curiosity, I guess.
Dallas did a guest post here on LobShots so the internet search engine traffic leads folks here. So, I figured, what the hell? Let’s put up some pictures. I know Dallas doesn’t care… if she did, she wouldn’t have taken all the photos. If you want to get to know more than just her pretty face… follow her on twitter: @DallasLatos. She’s hilarious.
She’ll constantly make you laugh. She’ll cause you to do multiple double-takes, and mutter in shock, “holy crap, she can’t say that?” She is the realer, younger, awesomer version of those fake over-the-hill Baseball Wives you see on TV. She’s fantastic, a bit of a wild child… tattoos galore, with snakes as pets. Over seventy reptiles to be exact. She’s not a bullshitter…she’s a straight shooter and if you offend her or disrespect her… she’ll let you know about it. Hell, Mat just might let you know about it.
Well, today, Dallas did her first ever Reds MLB blog post, and it’s great. A nice story of how she and Mat came to be. Girl’s got wit for days… try to keep up. After the story… some photos of Dallas from her modeling days.
Haven’t you heard? I changed my name from “Dallas” to “Mat Latos’ Wife”- duh.
They say not to count your chickens before they hatch… for some of us, they should have said “don’t count your husbands”.
Dallas here… First name, not the city. Just your average independent girl who went to college to conquer the world and swore she was going to be single and travel the world until she was at least 30 (and even then, she said that she would never have a “boyfriend” but MIGHT marry someone some day if it seemed necessary). Boyfriends are unreliable. They’re liars. They’re BOYS. Right?! Besides, with a successful career and a B.S. in Business Administration and Economics from a prestigious school, what could a girl possibly need from a BOY? In the wise words of Cher Horowitz, “As if!”.
There was this really odd point in my life where my best friend Lauren didn’t understand why I was single and thought I should settle down. She had THE PERFECT guy for me to date. He wasn’t “perfect” but he was “perfect for me”. She’d constantly remind me of it, saying, “You guys would be perfect together. You HAVE to hang out with him”. I finally asked her, “Why? What’s he about? What kind of GUY is it that you think I am into, LAUREN?!”. She started off with, “Dude. He’s super nice and funny. He plays baseball with…”, I immediately interrupt her, “STOP. NO SHOT. I AM NOT DATING AN ATHLETE. I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT. I’M NOT TRYING TO BE CHEATED ON OR LOOKING TO BE SOMEONE’S EX WIFE”. I held onto this sentiment for a little over a year and a half. In the meantime, Lauren continued playing cupid and making excuses for me to Mat who didn’t understand why I wouldn’t hang out with him.
If you want to reach a low point in your life, get in a time-travel machine back to 2009 and be the third wheel on your friend’s date to see Couples Retreat. While they’re being gooey, you might be making fun of yourself to lighten the mood. You might just ask for them to call one of their “stupid guy friends” to pretend to be your date so you don’t look so pathetic. They might call Mat and say, “Hey! Dallas finally wants to hang out”… But they won’t, because that’s my story. It was silly. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. This is the part where a part of my life ended and of course another part began- but blah blah…
Fast forward. Mat and I did the boyfriend- girlfriend thing. We got engaged. We accidentally eloped before our wedding date and then never had a formal ceremony- You know, the usual.
So here I am, blogging to you live from our couch- because once you get married to someone with a stressful career, you stop going out 7 nights a week and you do that housewife thing and tell everyone on the internet your business. OH- AND you give up your own identity if you’re not careful. Speaking of, feel free to never EVER refer to me as “Mat’s wife” unless you have already made it clear that I too am a human being with a name and a face and all of that good stuff.
At some point early on, I did an in-depth analysis of the economic impact on our partnership of me working vs. me not working. People- I’m talking spread sheets and a Power Point. Anyway, the overwhelmingly beneficial action was unfortunately for me to stop working because the schedule of the baseball life is rather opposite of the business world. The thing I mainly miss is the sense of accomplishment. Flaunting a grocery receipt detailing my savings or looking at a clean kitchen just doesn’t really do it for me. BUT- don’t you think I’m not grateful. I am. I am grateful to be able to support Mat’s dreams. He deserves it and God bless the guys who do it sans spouse.
You might think I have some glamorous lifestyle, that Mat and I do some crazy out-of-this-world things or some other mumbo jumbo, but that’s not the story, morning glory. We’re just normal people trying to find happiness in this world. We enjoy the typical things- owning 70+ reptiles, getting excessive amounts of tattoos, compulsively fishing and spending some nights on the couch yelling at each other during NBA games. We’re pretty simple.
During baseball season, life is a little different- I’ll admit that. We live out of suitcases and watch tons of pay-per-view in hotel rooms. I typically go on almost as many road trips as Mat does and when I’m on the road, I try my best to enjoy the ballparks and cities I’m in as if it’s my day-job- because it kind of is. I’ll probably blog quite a bit about that. I might blog about new discoveries. I might blog about some of our experiences. I’ll totally blog when I catch a bigger fish than Mat and I might blog about getting to second base with TSA screeners- I can’t really say. I will say that I will do my best to keep you entertained and give you a look into what life is like standing behind a man who plays with balls for a living.
p.s. Stereotypes are rude. I’ve learned my lesson. You should too.
See? Hot fire. As for the photos…if you’re here with me in San Diego… you may have already seen some of these… if you’re in Cincinnati… you’re welcome. She’s cute, kind, unpredictable, loyal…and maybe a little bit crazy. (love ya, Dallas)
The baseball world is still waiting for a reenactment of this last photo with a Reds jersey. Keep hoping, boys… not gonna happen.