Obama at Bat!!!
|Viewers of this video may better understand this clip if you knew the original poem upon which this video clip is based – “Casey at the Bat” by Ernest Thayer is often considered one of baseball’s greatest writings. My thanks to Dick for forwarding this video to me.
A little Nostalgia and History
Casey at the Bat by Ernest Thayer
|“Love has its sonnets galore. War has its epics in heroic verse. Tragedy its sombre story in measured lines. Baseball has Casey at the Bat.” – Albert Spalding|
Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer
The Outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that –
But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
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,
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand;
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience 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 lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville – mighty Casey has struck out.
Casey at the Bat