Double Play - Part 1

There is a story ‘bout Casey, that is but incomplete It tells of simple ball and bat and Mighty’s ignoble feat There we learned of failure and the storied Mudville name Here we’ll learn what happened in the very next ballgame The year was long ago, it was eighteen eighty-eight When the paperboy delivered the tale of Casey’s fate The populace of Mudville was quite a distraught bunch They cried from morning paper all the way to lunch On this day the players came and sat upon the pine Would they lose again, they were the Mudville nine And when the Mighty one arrived and said “I will not play” Clouds hung over both team and field, it was all so gray The young and old with their broken nerves of steel Returned that day to see if Casey was the one for real “Hey, where’s da bum” yelled the boys all sittin’ in row Casey’s mates responded with a shallow “We don’t know” Amidst recited “Hail Mary’s”, Blake spit these words to Flynn “If Casey plays and hits the ball the Mudville nine will win.” The press was there, but no noise, the crowd was mighty small Then with black mask in his hand the villain said “play ball” The team dispersed to the field, their hopes and dream were full They proudly showed the Mudville name across their suits of wool The innings they passed quickly, still not a fan would cheer They chased the roasted peanuts down with drafted foamy beer And as their payers hung-in there and pushed away defeat Each fan inched forward bit by bit in their splinted seat Mitts flashed at hard balls, that the crafty pitchers hurled As they flew right back at them in this new ol’ timey world The innings read just like a thriller and then the ninth it came With prayers no longer muted they pleaded “not the same” The new day score was one to nuttin’ and Casey he still sat. Until the coach yelled down the bench “Hey, Casey get your bat!” Fans who saw him grab his bat and advance on towards the plate Rained “boos” down on to the field and cursed their constant fate The once great and mighty Casey could never be the hero ‘Cause for sure he’d strike out n’ leave the score at zero The bases were quite full when Casey tipped his floppy cap The other team drew broad smiles - the fans they did not clap The coach said to his nervous nine “Now it’s up to him” So, there it was, on Casey’s bat as if it were a limb (This Poem is continued in Double Play - Part 2, Please read it and discover the surprise ending)