Skip to main content

Baseball is Back

In this episode – Baseball is Back . . .

 

I must confess I'm a huge fan of the Chicago Cubs. Who else but a true fan would willingly watch a Spring Training baseball broadcast on The Marquee Sports Network, especially when it's one of their first broadcasts? Casual baseball fans would say, “It's a waste of time; these games don't mean a thing.”

I disagree. It's an opportunity to sit back, enjoy the rhythm and sounds of the game, and reminisce. Living in Southern California, we have several baseball teams to choose from, including the San Diego Padres, the Angels of Anaheim, the Los Angeles Dodgers, and, with a road trip, the San Francisco Giants. People ask me, why the Cubs? The answer is simple: My Dad was a Cubs fan (everyone called him Doc), and baseball was a big part of my childhood. The sounds of baseball were everywhere - on the barbershop radio – while playing baseball with the Heller boys and at the local ball diamond where I watched my Dad play.

So this afternoon, I had a crazy idea - what if I ask Gemini AI to craft a poem about Spring Training baseball and the Cubs? I wonder what it would come up with - well, folks, here it is.


Baseball is Back!

In Mesa, where the sun shines bright,

The Cubs return with all their might.

Spring training's here, a joyous scene,

As baseball dreams take center green.

 

The crack of bats, the pop of gloves,

A symphony of sounds that fans love.

Young Suzuki, sprinting down the line,

While Nico muscles up a fine,


Home run shot that soars so high,

It paints a smile across the sky.

Merryweather throws with laser heat,

While Wisdom dives, his glove meets feet,


With perfect grace, a grounder snagged,

The crowd erupts, their voices ragged.

From bleachers loud to sunny stands,

The spirit of the Cubs – expands.


Each day a test, each swing a chance,

To build a team, take a winning stance.

For soon they'll head north, Wrigley awaits,

Where history whispers through its gates.


So let the games in Mesa play,

As Cubs fans dream of a brand-new day.

For spring's a time of hope renewed,

It’s Chicago Cubs baseball, don’t be rude!


Yes, I’ll admit it’s a little hokey, but what the “HE–double toothpicks”? It’s a fun way to experiment with what you can do with AI.


And it reminds me of Dad.


I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Boy on a Beam

In this special bonus episode, Boy on a Beam. In a world long ago, when the days moved quite slow, Before buzzes and beeps and the fast things we know, A boy sat quite still on a very fine day, Just staring at nothing . . . and thinking away. No tablets! No gadgets! No screens shining bright! No earbuds stuck in from morning till night. No lists, no charts, and no chores to be done. He just sat there thinking—that's quiet-time fun! His name was Young Albert. He sat in his chair, Thinking of things that weren’t really there. “Suppose,” said Young Albert, with eyes open wide, “I ran super fast with my arms by my side! Suppose I ran faster than anyone knew, And caught up to sunshine that zoomed past me—too! If I hopped on its back for a light-speedy ride, What secrets would I find tucked away deep inside?” “Would stars look like sprinkles, all shiny and small? Would UP feel like sideways? Would BIG feel like Tall?” He giggled and wondered and thought, and he dreamed, Till his head fel...

When Fear Becomes the Default

In this special episode, When Fear Becomes the Default. Early Sunday morning, I was cycling past a small veterans’ pocket park in San Marcos. The air was still, the streets nearly empty. On one corner stood a young woman, alone, holding a hand-painted sign that read: “Be ANGRY. ICE agents are murdering people.” I pedaled past, but the words stayed with me. I knew the context—the footage and headlines from Minneapolis the day before, already ricocheting through the country and hardening opinions. Even in the quiet of the ride, the noise followed. Two miles later, I stopped at a red light. A black car with dark windows pulled up inches from my bike. My heart jumped. My first instinct wasn’t neighbor —it was threat . I found myself bracing, scanning, and wondering if the person inside was angry, armed, or looking for trouble. Then the door opened. A well-dressed young woman stepped out, walked to the trunk, and pulled out a sign that read “Open House.” She turned, smiled brightly, and sa...

The Thought Experiment–Revisited

In this episode. The Thought Experiment–Revisited The Boy on a Light Beam In 1895, a sixteen-year-old boy did something we rarely allow ourselves to do anymore. He stared into space and let his mind wander. No phone. No notes. No “Optimization Hacks” for his morning routine. Just a question: What would happen if I chased a beam of light—and actually caught it? That boy was Albert Einstein . And that single act of curiosity—a Gedankenexperiment , a thought experiment—eventually cracked open Newton’s tidy universe and rearranged our understanding of time itself. Not bad for an afternoon of daydreaming. Imagine if Einstein had been “productive” instead. He would have logged the light-beam idea into a Notion database, tagged it #CareerGrowth, and then promptly ignored it to attend a forty-five-minute “Sync” about the color of the departmental logo. He’d have a high Efficiency Score—and we’d still be stuck in a Newtonian universe , wondering why the Wi-Fi is slow. In a post I wrote back in...

Sweden Called . . . They Said No.

Have you ever wondered about  the Nobel Prize? Let's look at Where Genius Meets “Wait—Where’s My Medal?” Every October, the Nobel Prizes are announced, and humanity pauses to celebrate the "greatest benefit to mankind." And every year, like clockwork, a specific type of person appears online to complain—at length—that they were robbed. (Well, maybe this year more than most.) The Origin: A Legacy of Guilt The prize exists because Alfred Nobel, a Swedish inventor, had a crisis of conscience. Nobel held 355 patents, but he was most famous for inventing dynamite. When a French newspaper mistakenly published his obituary, calling him the " Merchant of Death, " he decided to buy a better legacy. In his 1895 will, he left the bulk of his massive fortune to establish five prizes (Physics, Chemistry, Medicine, Literature, and Peace). Because he was Swedish, he entrusted the selection to Swedish institutions, such as the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences. The only outlier...