Angels 10 Tigers 0

“Now, there’s a big league play I’m positive you will never see again,” laughs a rabid Angeles fan pointing to first base. Under a crystal clear, sun-drenched, aqua-blue sky, it's the top of the forth inning at Angel Stadium in Anaheim, CA. Angel fans enjoying an outstanding day of baseball. Temperatures reached the high 80s at game time. This afternoon time stood still as patrons basked in the glory of the first inning.

The bottom of the first saw 13 Angels hitters come to the plate. The hits just kept coming, Pujols smacks one to center field, Mark Trumbo drives one to right field, and Kendrick lines one up the middle. With the based loaded, Mike Trout steps to plate, his fifth pitch - a 79 mph curveball - from the hand of Tigers pitcher Rick Porcello. Trout launches one high and deep to center field, “touch-em’ all,” his first career grand slam! Nine runs would cross the plate before that first inning would mercifully end for the Detroit Tigers. Josh Hamilton files out to the center fielder Austin Jackson.

. . . Back to the forth inning - the magic of baseball, fans leap from their seats when they witness plays never seen before. Prince Fielder struts to the plate, now granted, this guy has a career .287 batting average, 264 home runs, with 880 career strike outs, the 5 foot -11 inch, 275 pounder - a power hitter, not a fast runner. Ok, Tigers fans are waiting for Fielder to get things going, something to change the momentum of the game. The fourth pitch from Richards, an 85 mph slider, with a savage swing Fielder strikes out. The ball gets away from the catcher, dribbling to the backstop. Now, there is a quirky rule in baseball, if the catcher drops the ball on strike three, the batter, provided they can run fast enough and not thrown out by the catcher, is awarded first base. Believe it or not this monster of a guy makes it to first. Maybe this twist of fate is just what the Tigers need to turn the tide of the game.

Sorry Tiger fans, next batter, Victor Martinez strikes out to end the inning.

The Angles would go on to shut-out the Tigers 10-0. Maybe this Angels fan was right after all, it's doubtful Prince Fielder will ever reach first base again on a strike-out, who knows - but that’s the joy of baseball.

Comments

Back to School (Without the Triple Lindy)

I hadn’t set foot inside a public library in over thirty years. Last Saturday, when I walked through the sliding doors of the modern County of San Diego branch on Eucalyptus Avenue in Vista, my eyes instinctively scanned the floor for the familiar, comforting sight of varnished oak cabinets and brass pull-handles. Nothing . No card catalog. No little wooden drawers. No rows of index cards typed by someone who presumably had beautiful penmanship and a pension. I walked up to the front desk, looked the librarian dead in the eye, and asked with complete earnestness: "Where’s the card catalog?" She didn’t laugh, though she had every right to. Instead, she offered a warm, dry smile: "We magically had the computer digest it." And just like that, I was enrolled. Not the Rodney Dangerfield kind of back-to-school. No diving board, no loud blazer, no campus party, and thankfully, no need to convince anyone I belonged there. Just an overdue reminder that while I was busy with ...

Beyond Facts-The Deep Dive

✨ In this episode, Beyond Facts: Reimagining School–in the Age of AI . . . This week's podcast is a bit different; it's another example of how Artificial Intelligence (AI) can offer tools to creatively enhance your analytical presentation of information. We took this week's blog and copied it into Gemini with the question, “If a story is to work, it must, on some level, create an illusion of escape and also achieve a goal simultaneously. Does this apply to my blog post that follows?” What's created is not just an analysis of the writing, but an AI-generated discussion produced “On the Fly” - Enjoy! Did you know that the word "school" comes from the ancient Greek word scholē , which originally meant "leisure"? Not a rigid schedule or droning lectures filled with "facts," but free time for thinking and conversation. To the Greeks, learning happened best when life slowed down—when you had room to reflect, to ask questions, and to wrestle ...

Doc Welch - The Country Doctor

In this episode, Doc Welch . . . Many authors have characterized life in rural Illinois over the years. Among the more notables are Edgar Lee Masters, who wrote Spoon River Anthology, Carl Sandburg for his poetry and biography of Abraham Lincoln, and little known to me until recently, my first doctor, whom everyone in town always called Doc Welch - James K. Welch, M.D. (Feb. 7, 1915, to May 5, 1998) While exploring the microfilm of the Cuba Journal (published from 1884 to 1992), I consistently kept running across articles entitled The Country Doctor. This intrigued me. Doc Welch was a third-generation practicing Country Doctor in Cuba for over 40 years. His father, James William Welch, M.D., practiced medicine in Cuba for more than five decades. His grandfather, James Knox Welch, M.D., settled in Cuba after the Civil War. Cuba, Illinois, is a small, rural farming community in west-central Illinois, where I grew up. Like many small towns, it boasts a central square with a ban...

The Rhythm of the Woodpecker

The morning in Vista often begins under a heavy, gray marine layer that rolls in from the coast, pressing a damp, muffled stillness over the neighborhood. At 4:30 a.m., the driveways are still full. The local commuters are either blissfully unconscious or stumbling blindly toward their showers, clinging desperately to their last shred of peace before the nine-to-five grind claims them for the day. I, on the other hand, am voluntarily wide awake in the dark. When your agenda consists of absolutely nothing, it is critical to get an early start. Inside the house, the quiet is profound, broken only by the sharp, mechanical click of the kettle as it reaches a rolling boil. I stand at the counter, watching the dark ground coffee bloom as hot water hits the French press's stainless steel. The smell is sudden and heavy—a deep, roasted-earth aroma that cuts through the morning fog. I push against the plunger’s gritty resistance, pouring a cup that radiates dark, stinging heat against my pal...

On The Fly

Search This Blog