The Couple That Loves Us Back

THE NATURE OF BEING an athletic mercenary is that most of your social life off the field revolves around the insular world of your team. The Utleys have deviated from that script, too. They’ve struck up unlikely friendships with an assortment of quirky characters, including legendary rock music impresario Larry Magid and his wife, Mickey. The Magids have cats, so they bonded. “They are just the coolest people we know,” Jen says of the Magids.

Still, the Utleys seem stunned to learn just how much Magid sort of invented the very concept of cool here. “We had no idea,” Chase says, when he hears how Magid has influenced and shaped popular culture.

“All Chase cares about is SportsCenter, and I’m in my little animal world,” Jen says. “I mean, we don’t even have an iPod. But it makes sense. Larry reminds me of Chase. Both are totally modest; they don’t like to talk about themselves. They’re both just quietly living their lives.”

This off-season, the Utleys will go on safari to South Africa and Botswana, at the behest of Jen’s best friend from California, who grew up going to Africa every other year because her parents were involved in the charity Conservation International. Coincidentally, it’s a trip Mickey recently made. The Magids had the Utleys over to look at her photos. As they recount their excitement about the trip, though, Chase frowns; when he says what’s on his mind, it’s another opportunity for the banter that, one quickly realizes, typifies life with the Utleys.

“I don’t know if we can talk about our safari,” he says.

“Why not?”

“The contract,” he stage-whispers. “I don’t know if safari is allowed.”

“What?” Jen says. “If you get eaten by a lion, that might be a contract thing. But we’re not going to do that.”

“If I get eaten by a lion, the money will be gone,” Chase points out.

“But you won’t need it then — you’ll have been eaten by a lion!”

They laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Chase says. “It’s just that there’s a lot of things you’re not allowed to do.”

Which makes it particularly challenging to be so committed to living a real life, instead of being held hostage by baseball.

“Look, we’re not going skydiving or motorcycle-riding,” Jen says.  “We’re not pitching a tent in the middle of the frickin’ Sahara. We’re in a fancy camp.”

They pause, smiling at each other. Then Chase leans into the tape recorder on the table. “We’re going to Africa. On safari.”