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

Morning Coffee

In this episode, Morning Coffee . . . Now, I’m not saying everyone needs coffee. Some folks get by just fine on, I don’t know, sunlight and positive thinking. Me? I’m pretty sure I started drinking the stuff sometime around the Reagan administration. Reading John Gierach’s "Ode to Campfire Coffee" in Trout Bum (a book that should be required reading for anyone who sees sleeping on the ground as recreation) got me thinking about how we’ve managed to complicate something as fundamentally simple as boiling water and adding grounds. Taste, you say? Look, black coffee is an acquired taste, like tequila or cilantro. I just don’t get it. Gierach, bless his heart, mostly drinks his java streamside, probably while wearing wool socks and waders and contemplating the mysteries of the universe. As for me? My outdoor coffee experience is a bit different. Picture this: the High Sierra, where campfires are banned (to avoid agitating Smoky Bear), and I’m huddled over a Whisperlite , coax...

The Endless Work of Wisdom

It always makes me smile. The moment people learn I've officially entered what I like to call the Great Un-Working (retirement), they almost immediately ask the same question: “So . . . What do you do now?" I think they're expecting me to say I'm restoring a vintage sports car, hiking the John Muir Trail, or finally becoming fluent in French. Instead, I tell them: "I live life deliberately." That's usually the point when I get a polite nod, followed by the unmistakable look of someone wondering whether I've simply found a more sophisticated way to say, “I’m becoming a bum.” Apparently, "living deliberately" sounds suspiciously like unemployment, just better branding. The truth is, what living deliberately looks like for me right now is taking time to synthesize a lifetime of experiences into these weekly reflections. It's slowing down long enough to ask what those experiences have taught me, while keeping the door wide open to the poss...

A Tucson Typewriter Tale

One of the great joys of wandering without much of a plan is that the universe occasionally rewards your lack of organization. During my recent visit to Tucson, AZ, Robert and I were strolling through the Annex this afternoon, doing what tourists and newly minted retirees like me have elevated to an Olympic sport: meandering. The Annex is one of those places where every few steps there's another handmade candle, artisan coffee, or vintage object someone rescued from a garage sale and convinced the rest of us was always destined to become art. Then I saw something that genuinely stopped me. A young woman standing quietly behind a manual typewriter. Not a laptop designed to look like a typewriter. Not a quirky Bluetooth keyboard. An honest-to-goodness mechanical typewriter—the sort of machine that once announced every sentence to the entire office with a satisfying clack and enough force to wake nearby pigeons. With an iPhone 16 sitting in my pocket in an age when people write novels...

A B+ Kind of Life

Welcome back to this week's On the Fly . Retirement has taught me something unexpected: life gets a lot more enjoyable when you stop chasing perfection. Lately, I've been having an absolute blast playing executive par-3 courses like Rancho Carlsbad . A short iron, a sunny morning, and nowhere to be except the next tee—that's my kind of day. This Thursday, though, I'm raising the stakes. I'm heading to The Links at Lakehouse in San Marcos, a full-size par-71 course with enough water hazards to keep the local fish well-stocked with my golf balls. After shooting a 64 on a par-3 course, I've set myself a new goal: shoot an 89 before my birthday next August. Why 89? Because on a par-71 course, that's bogey golf—one extra stroke per hole. For non-golfers, think of it this way: par is like earning 100% on a final exam. Bogey golf is a solid B+. You got the job done, learned something, and probably had a lot more fun getting there. The older I get, the more I appre...

On The Fly

Search This Blog