The Coconino sun., 1926-01-15
Casey at the Bat

ED. Note-There are many famous
poems like "Curfew Shall Not Ring
Tonight" "The Face on the Barroom
Floor" and quite several others equal
ly as popular which never found
their way into scrap books when they
were all the rage, for that reason we
are willing to give the old timers an
other chance at this old classic, the
saga of baseball Between DeWolf
Hopper and this epic, both became
popular Cut it out if you want to
save it--this is the last time around).
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the
Mudville nine that day;
The score was four to two with but
one inning more to play.
And so when Cooney died at first and
Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons
of the game.
A struggling few got up to go in deep
despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eter-
nal in the human breast;
They thought if only Casey could get
a whack at that
We'd put up even money now with
Casey at the bat.
But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also
Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a pudding and
the latter was fake;
So upon that stricken multiture grim
melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of
Casey's getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a single to the
wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore
the cover off the ball.
And when the dust had lifted, and
they saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second, and
Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from five thousand throats or
more went up lusty yell;
1t rumbled through the valley; it rat
tied in the dell;
1t knocked upon the mountain top and
recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was adj
vancing to the bat.
There was ease in Caseys manner as
he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing
and a smile on Casey's face
And when, responding to the cheers,
he lightly DOTTED his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt
twas Casey at the bat
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he
rubbed his hands with dirt.
Five thousand tongues applauded
when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher
ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance cleaned in Casey's eye, a
sneer curled Casey's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere
came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in
naughty grandeur there
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball
unheeded sped
"That amt my STYLE" said Casey
Strike one!" the umpire said
From the benches black with people
there went up a muffled roar
Like the beating of the storm waves
on stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shout
ed someone in the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him
had not Casey raised his hand.
With smile of Christian charity
great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade
the game go on.
He signaled to the pitcher, and once
more the spheroid flew,
But Casey still ignored it and the UNI
pire cried, "Strike twow
"Fraud!" cried the maddened thou
sands, and the echo answered,
"Fraudw
But one scornful look from Casey and
the multitude was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and
cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't
let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey's lips,
his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with hideous violence his
bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball,
and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the
force Of Casey's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land
the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere and
somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing,
and somewhere children shout,