A Little Dose Of B/R Poetry: "Casey At The Bat-Part 2" and "To The Sports Fan"

Jake LivinstonCorrespondent IMarch 29, 2009

With Bleacher Report being filled with only articles, I decided to have some fun and write poetry for B/R. I'm sure you have all heard of the great poem "Casey at the Bat", and I decided to make a sequel to the original classic written by Ernest Lawrence Thayer. Though mine isn't as great as his, I hope you enjoy it!

Casey at the Bat

All the patrons at the ball game

Began to curse Casey's name

For they were in shock, in awe

That Casey struck out to lose, not even to draw. (end stanza)

For there was no joy in Mudville

Oh, no joy at all.

But then there came a thrill

For, behind home plate, sat a baseball. (end stanza)

Then "Blue" realized, as the crowd began to cheer

And Casey sprinted, for first base was near

That the catcher dropped the third strike

So Casey could reach base and he dug in his spike. (end stanza)

All of the fans stood up and cheered

To the left, the catcher veered.

He looked around for the ball

But couldn't find it at all. (end stanza)

And Flynn, at third, sprinted for home

But stopped half-way and began to roam

For the catcher peered down and saw the baseball

"Run! Score!" The patrons would call. (end stanza)

So Flynn decided to try to score

But the catcher wanted the out even more.

And Flynn's eyes had a passionate gleam

That made him thrive to score for the team. (end stanza)

Now Flynn lowered his left shoulder

And the catcher grasped tight to the small white boulder

That was tightly compressed in the catcher's glove

And the catcher wouldn't drop it and gave it all of his love. (end stanza)

The crowd grew to a deathly quiet

For an out would lose it, and two runs tie it.

The two collide and a dust cloud formed

It looked as if Mudville had been "dust stormed". (end stanza)

When the dust cleared, everyone saw

The catcher on the ground, no ball in his paw,

And Flynn standing on top of home plate, a run he scored?

"Safe! Safe!" The patrons implored. (end stanza)

Good ol' blue agreed with their cries,

Four to three, now the score, gave the opponent some sighs.

With Blake at third and Casey two behind that,

Out came Thomas Baines, who was now at bat. (end stanza)

This tiny kid, about the size of my brother Curt,

Stepped into the box and rubbed his hands in the dirt.

There was fear in Baines's eyes

For if he got out, there would be no more tries. (end stanza)

He hit with no power, and whiffed many a few

And before you knew it, the umpire yelled, "Strike two!"

Thomas then stepped out and looked into the crowd

He silenced them all, for they were getting very loud. (end stanza)

He then took in a deep breath and spit out a seed,

Then dug in his cleats, for a run they would need

To tie the game and bring joy to the town;

But if he struck out, all would wear a frown. (end stanza)

The pitcher wound up an Baines squeezed the bat.

And a mist from the sky fell upon his hat.

The pitch spun down and passed below his knees-

"Ball one!" The umpire cried, granting the crowd's pleas. (end stanza)

"That's good, that great!" One man said, "One more chance!"

They all stood as Baines crouched into his stance.

The pitcher wound up and out the ball flew;

It was high and the umpire called, "Ball two!" (end stanza)

As the mist turned to rain, the pitches kept getting fouled and fouled,

And the pitcher got mad and scowled and scowled.

But Baines wouldn't give, and the pitchers kept firing away,

And the continuous battle lasted seemingly all day. (end stanza)

It kept going till the pitcher hung a curveball

That Baines swung at and drove to the wall!

Jimmy Blake scored and Casey rounded third-

"Run, Casey, run!" Could easily be heard. (end stanza)

For if Mudville won, joy would returns

And the championship trophy is what they would earn.

But Casey needed to score,

Or the game would still be tied and they'd have to play some more. (end stanza)

In sped the ball from a cannon in right,

While Casey chugged down the line with all of his might.

The ball arrived just as Casey slid,

And the catcher slapped the tag-that he did. (end stanza)

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 do the same;

That place is Mudville, for Casey, mighty Casey, has won the game! (End Poem!)


My next poem that I wrote is entitled "To the Sports Fan".

To the Sports Fan

The world has read about "once upon a midnight dreary",

Or humorous verse by a man named Shel.

Those works are niced, great literature composed

By men with great talent for the pen. (end stanza)

The world has read poems that make one shed a tear,

And frightful poems from the deceased Poe,

That delight us, amuse us, intrigue us,

Or, for a minute, take us away from reality. (end stanza)

They fill our sweet tooth and enhance our mind

For poetry is great and can soothe a soul.

But what lies outside is real, no joke to be told;

It's called life and no second chances are given. (end stanza)

Life is for real, you win some and lose some

But, then, what compares to life?

Different responsed are given, but discarded till

Few remain, like soldiers on a battlefield. (end stanza)

When all's said and done, just one word remains;

Just six letters:s-p-o-r-t-s.

Yes, sports are tough, hard to handle at times,

But after a loss, a win is still in the aiden. (end stanza)

The goal is the championship, but only one can win

That coveted prize that drives the players to play,

And the coaches to coach,

And the spectators to spectate. (end stanza)

This poem goes out to the devoted fans,

Whom have survived agonizing seasons

And endured the art of the loss;

Hoping, searching for light at the end of the tunnel. (end stanza)

This poem goes out the Bleacher Bums;

To the Cameron Crazies, the Packer Backers, the Izzone;

To the Fenway Faithful, the Dawg Pound, and to

The unmentioned loyalists of their respective teams. (end stanza)

For you have all experienced, just as in life, the bitter taste of loss.

But the sun comes out the next day,

And the you strive to excel, just as your team does,

And you never say die, as the new day bring new hope. (end stanza)

Sports aren't for the weak at heart;

They, like life, break your heart

In many different ways that hurt,

But make you want to win even more. (end stanza)

And, when times are tough,

Sports will always be there

As the constant happiness in our lives,

And bring a smile to our face. (end stanza)

But the bad, we'd rather not talk about that

For, just as in life, you strive for the best

And won't settle for any less

Because sports and life are precious gems. (end stanza)

The world has read poems

For pleasure and thought.

But sports are tough, heart shattering.

And those who love them have experienced it all. (end stanza)

So, to the sports fan;

Keep cheering, chanting, and body painting,

And Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk-ing,

Until you can't do so any more.