Bold statement: the ballpark used to be a sanctuary for human connection, and AI is edging its way in, challenging what makes the live baseball experience feel genuinely human.
When you go to a baseball game, certain auras feel universal: the scent of manicured grass mingling with popcorn, a warm breeze that seems to carry possibility, the taste of a pretzel or hot dog, and the awe of athletic feats unfolding before you. The walk-up songs set the mood for each batter, adding a personal soundtrack to moments of glory. These sensations are not just about the sport; they’re about being human in a shared space, and that’s what makes the ballpark special.
Today that familiar magic is unsettled. Ahead of the season, LSU announced the walk-up music for its players, including Brayden Simpson’s choice: “Walk My Walk” by Breaking Rust. On the surface, it’s a sunlit, country-leaning track with a bass-forward punch that suits a stadium setting. But a closer look reveals a troubling twist: the song is entirely AI-generated.
Breaking Rust is a project created by Aubierre Rivaldo Taylor. Taylor directed an AI to compose country music under the Breaking Rust name, paired with an AI-generated image of a rugged cowboy. The project drew headlines when it climbed to the top of a Billboard digital sales chart. While that achievement can be timing and marketing more than artistry, it still helped secure attention and, perhaps, contributed to making the track a plausible walk-up choice for a college ballpark.
Whether Simpson sticks with this song or not, the broader trend is clear: AI in the ballpark is becoming “normal.” The bigger question is where this trend will lead next. Has Pandora’s box been opened in sports?
Right now, there are signs the impact could be far-reaching. Electronic Arts is developing an AI-generated commentator clone of Guy Mowbray, capable of pronouncing more than 20,000 players’ names. EA argues this will deepen immersion in the game, but immersion without authentic human voices can feel hollow or unsettling.
Consider a hypothetical: if the late Bob Sheppard were still around today, would an AI version of his voice be used to announce Yankees players forever? If so, would the famous line about a player truly having arrived in the MLB lose its meaning because the voice isn’t really his? A witty retort might be that the phrase would become more about AI-reconstructed identity than authentic achievement, which could diminish the moment.
Technologies like AI-enhanced volumetric capture and advanced 3D player tracking are already on the horizon, building on experiments from events like MLB’s Tokyo Series in 2025. The MLB app already offers 3D tracking; the question is whether these tools will heighten the sense of magic or peel back layers of wonder by revealing the machinery behind the curtain.
The core tension is simple but profound: in an era where casual social spaces are disappearing and digital substitutes proliferate, we need places that celebrate genuine human experience. Ballparks should remain spaces where people sing together, cheer together, and share imperfect, delightful, real moments. They should not rely on AI-generated content that mimics humanity.
If we don’t consciously protect these experiences, the story of going to a baseball game could become a tragedy—losing what gave the tradition its heartbeat and turning a beloved cultural ritual into just another product.
How do you feel about AI’s growing role in live sports and public gatherings? Should ballparks and similar spaces preserve a purely human, non-AI atmosphere, or is a blend that includes AI elements acceptable or even beneficial? Share your thoughts in the comments.
