Cases Revenge by Gransland Rice, published in the Speaker in 1906. A read aloud with photographs from the historic baseball program at Genesee Country Village and Museum. There were sad and heart-thin mudville for a week or even more. There were muttered oaths and curses. Every fan in town was sore. Just think, said one, how soft it looked, with Casey at the bat, and then to think he'd go and spring a bushly trick like that. All his past fame was forgotten. He was now a hopeless shine. They called him Strike Out Casey from the mayor down the line. And as he came to bat each day, his bosom heaved a sigh while a look of hopeless fury shone in mighty Casey's eye. He pondered in the days gone by that he had been their king, that when he strolled up to the plate they made the Welkin Ring. But now his nerve had vanished for when he heard them hoot. He fanned or popped out daily like some minor league recruit. He soon began to sulk and loaf. His batting eye went lame. No home runs on the scorecard now were chalked against his name. The fans without exception gave the manager no peace. For one and all kept clamoring for Casey's quick release. The mudville squad began to slump. The team was in the air. Their playing went from bad to worse. Nobody seemed to care. Back to the woods with Casey was the cry from Reuters Row. Get someone who can hit the ball and let that big dub go. The lane is long. Someone has said that never turns again and fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men. When Casey smiled his rugged face no longer wore a frown, the pitcher who had started all the trouble came to town. All mudville had assembled 10,000 fans had come to see the twerler who had put big Casey on the bum. And when he stepped into the box, the multitude went wild. He doffed his cap in proud disdain, but Casey only smiled. Play ball! The umpires voice rang out and then the game began. And in that throng of thousands, there was not a single fan who thought that mudville had a chance. And with the setting sun, their hopes sank low. The rival team was leading 4-2-1. The last half of the ninth came round with no change in the score, but when the first man up hit, safe the crowd began to roar. The din increased the echo of 10,000 shouts was heard when the pitcher hit the second and gave four balls to the third. Three men on base, nobody out, three runs to tie the game. A triple meant the highest niche in mudville's hall of fame. But here the rally ended and the gloom was deep as night. When the fourth one fouled to catcher and the fifth flew out to right. A dismal groan in chorus came a scowl was on each face when Casey walked up bad in hand and slowly took his place. His bloodshot eyes and fury gleamed, his teeth were clenched in hate. He gave his cap a vicious hook and pounded on the plate. But fame is fleeting as the wind and glory fades away. There were no wild and woolly cheers. No glad to claim this day they hissed and groaned and hooded as they clamored, striking out. But Casey gave no outward sign that he had heard this shout. The pitcher smiled and cut one loose across the plate its sped. Their hiss, another groan, strike one, the umpire said. Zip, like a shot the second curve broke just below the knee. Strike two, the umpire rowered aloud but Casey made no plea. No roasting for the umpire now, his was an easy lot but here the pitcher rolled again. Was that a rifle shot? A whack, a crack and out through the space the leather pellet flew, a blot against the distance sky, a speck against the blue. Of the fence and center field in rapid whirling flight, the spear sailed on, the black rudiment and then was lost to sight. Ten thousand hats were thrown in air, ten thousand through a fit. But no one ever found the ball that mighty Casey hit. Oh, somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun and somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun and somewhere over blighted lives there hangs a heavy ball. But Mudville hearts are happy now for Casey hit the ball. To access all of our innovative at home learning resources, read alouds, coloring pages and more, please visit www.gcv.org.