Casey at the Bat

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"Baseball" by Paul Lim is licensed under CC BY-
ND 2.0.
Casey at the Bat
By Ernest Lawrence Thayer
1888
Ernest Lawrence Thayer (1863-1940) was an American writer and poet, best known for the
following poem, which is considered a classic in sports-related literature. As you read, take
notes on how the author develops the mood of the poem.
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville
nine1 that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one
inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at Erst, and
Barrows did the same,
A pall-like2 silence fell upon the patrons of the
game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair.
The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the
human breast;
They thought, “If only Casey could but get a
whack at that—
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”
But Flynn preceded3 Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo,4 while the latter was a cake;5
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd,6 tore the cover oW the ball;
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1. The “Mudville Nine” refers to a Ectional baseball team in a town called Mudville.
2. relating to a gloom or dreary fog
3. Precede (verb) to come before
4. The term “hoodoo” is meant to imply that this player was a jinx, or bad luck. Originally the
poem referred to Flynn as a “lulu,” or unskilled player.
5. The term “cake” is meant to imply that this player was also of weak or questionable skill,
possibly more concerned with appearances than practice.
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And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from Eve thousand throats and more there rose a lusty7 yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the `at,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile lit Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doWed8 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 writhing9 pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
DeEance `ashed 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 haughty10 grandeur11 there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style," said Casey. “Strike one!” the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a mufed roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage12 shone;
He stilled the rising tumult;13 he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun14 sphere `ew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, “Strike two!”
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6. Here, the accent above the e is called a “grave accent” and is used to signify that the poet
intends for the vowel to be pronounced, so as to maintain a certain meter.
7. Lusty (adjective) hearty, full of vigor
8. to remove (an article of clothing)
9. Writhe (verb) to twist or squirm
10. Haughty (adjective) arrogantly superior; smug or self-important
11. Grandeur (noun) splendor and magniEcence, especially of appearance or style
12. Visage (noun) a person’s facial expression
13. Tumult (noun) a loud clamor or noise, especially one caused by a large mass of people
14. of a dull grayish-brown color
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Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer (1888) is in the public domain.
Unless otherwise noted, this content is licensed under the CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 license
“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;
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 favoured 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,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.
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