Notes on a Slop Invasion

I am certainly no fan of A.I., but can see its uses when it comes to getting answers to difficult questions or creating funny memes. But a swarm of phony historical baseball photos have seeped into the Facebook feeds of myself and many other fans of the game—and the scourge has reached epidemic proportions. 

On pages called Diamond Days, Old-TIme Baseball, and Baseball in Pics, to name a few, insanely fake pictures of players from the past are posted daily that any casual baseball fan can claim are absolute bullshit after five seconds of observation. If the players named in the photo aren’t wrong to begin with, ballparks are not what they are, impossible angles are used, proportions are from another planet, and over and over again, giant scoreboards added in the background are just a joke. Check out this masterpiece featuring St. Louis stolen base legend Lou Brock, staring into a dugout while getting a lead off third base for some reason, while both the Cardinals and Cubs have a fielder positioned behind him…

Here’s Ty Cobb sliding into home plate even though it says third base, with two guys in suits standing on the field for some reason. (Purported photographer William A. Kuenzel needs to be contacted about this in his coffin.)

Here’s Cardinal Bob Gibson, who gets repeated A.I. treatments, about to throw a pitch even though Roger Maris is already finishing his swing. The ballpark they’re in is a blend of maybe four different yards, none of them Yankee Stadium or old Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis, where this game was actually played if it existed.

Now check out Pete Rose “before he became a degenerate gambler,” even though he was apparently still a porn star. The “WORLD SERIES CHAMPION” banner which if it corresponds with the scoreboard, is flat-out comical., seeing the Reds won that series in Boston and that place isn’t even Riverfront Stadium.

And while we’re on the subject of Fenway Park, check this other Bob Gibson atrocity, which shows Gibby about to throw the ball into the first base dugout, someone who is not Ken Harrelson with a hare-brained open stance, and Monster Seats on top of the left field wall that didn’t exist for another 38 years.

Finally, in the most idiotic one I’ve seen yet, Ken Griffey Jr. not only became twenty-feet tall, but suddenly batted right-handed and the Reds ballpark was magically transported across the river to Kentucky, with the Roebling Bridge and Cincinnati skyline in the background.

See, if the fools who create these abominations would just admit they’re having fun playing around with A.I., then I would say “that’s hilarious” and move on. What angers me, and why I nearly always add to the flood of nasty comments beneath each photo, is that the creators consistently insult our intelligence by trying to tell us the pictures are real. We already live in a world where a certain regime lies 24 hours a day, where truth is either ignored or twisted. We certainly don’t need A.I. clowns giving us fake history lessons. Not that any good will come of it, but I’ve repeatedly reported many of these group pages for fraud. So should you.

Gone With the Wiffle Wind

Feast your eyes on this photo of “Little Fenway” in the backyard of Pat and Beth O’Connor’s house in Essex, Vermont. If this place had been around in 1970, when me and my friends spent our summers playing Wiffle ball about three hours south near Springfield, MA, I may have journeyed north and never left.

The Porch Roof Classic is my 16-episode “podcast-novel” currently running on most podcast networks. It’s a nostalgic, PG-13 coming-of-age yarn geared for many ages, but especially for the guys in that photograph: longtime baseball fans who yearn for the days before steroids, social media, endless strikeouts and Rob Manfred.

My original intent was to lure an agent and publisher to get the novel out to the masses, but with the current book market—particularly for young adult fiction—heavily filled with female and “underrepresented voices”, it was going to be a long, brutal search. So then I thought: With our country in such a dark, dysfunctional place these days, why not do the novel first as a serialized fiction podcast, a quick and easy escape to the more innocent summer of 1970, when overnight camp, mosquitoes, the town bully, budding romance and Wiffle ball games were everything? Hell, I had some acting experience in high school and it would be fun to do all the voices. Plus building an audio audience for it might even help sell the book down the road.

A few listeners have asked me if some of the bigger events in the story actually happened. Some did, but many did not, and the characters, inspired by people from my past, are largely reworked creations. My aim was to capture the humid, languid days of a Western Massachusetts suburb in the year after Woodstock. The political and cultural climates may be entirely different now, but with narrator Joey Tosh recounting his summer, the dreams, laughs, and anxieties of being fourteen shine through as universal truths.

Hopefully you can give The Porch Roof Classic a listen. Beginning this week, new episodes will appear on Wednesdays and Fridays at the links below, and other places.

APPLE

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