More than a tip of the hat to “Casey at the Bat.” Almost every stanza ends with the same rhyming words as the original. I tried to use several of the pat phrases from the original as well. A re-telling of the 2014 AL Wild Card game.
The fountains looked quite brilliant at the stadium that day:
The city was a-buzz with playoff baseball soon to play;
And then the anthem filled the air, flyover did the same,
A raucous roar arose from all the patrons of the game.
A leadoff hit against Big Game, no nerves were put to rest,
When with two outs Moss touched them all, hope sunk throughout my breast.
But Butler, human hit machine, he got a whack at that,
And cut the deficit to one, his first playoff at bat.
“Thank God the game is nine innings,” texted my friend Blake,
In contrast to the first, the second inning was a cake;
No runs the A’s scored in the third, I paced and then I sat,
And flipped around my rally cap to watch the Royals bat.
And Moose let loose a single, to the wonderment of all
Esky bunted him to second, not playing Moneyball
And with two outs, thank Cain and Hoz, a miracle occurred,
The Royals took the lead before Jon Lester got the third.
Three up, three down, Shields shut the door, the crowd began to yell
This just might be the Royals year, my hope began to swell;
No hits, no runs, the boys in blue appeared a little flat
As Lester’s wicked curveball seemed to dance around each bat.
The fifth was quick, we’re rolling now, Shields put them in their place
Though Lester matched him — one, two, three — a smile lit cross my face
The game is now official length, I grabbed my rally hat
No rain forecast, onto the sixth, the A’s now up to bat.
A single followed by a walk and Big Game left the dirt
Yost motioned for Ventura, I began to eat my shirt.
The air was tense, Moss at the plate, he loaded in his hip,
A mighty swing, a Ruth-like blast, a sigh escaped my lip.
The A’s from Oakland tallied five, a melancholy air
Fell hard upon the stadium and Lester kept it there.
The seventh passed without a score, the outs unheeded sped
“Thirty years for this?” I thought. “Let’s go Royals!” someone said.
Wade Davis came into the game, shouts from the A’s did roar
But only seven pitches threw, the Royals still trailed four.
An Esky hit, a stolen base, the crowd began to stand
Lorenzo Cain soon brought him home, Aoki raised his hand.
Then Hosmer walked and Billy hit, and Gore his speed sure shone,
We felt hope rising deep within, we bade the game go on;
And Gordon stepped up to the plate, a pitch quite untamed flew
The deficit — one meager run! — my ulcers numbered two.
Thousands bellowed passionately, and cheered their KC squad
The ninth is dark and terror filled, and Holland left us awed.
Josh Willingham pinch hit for Moose, we saw his muscles strain
A luck-filled fly into right field, hope on the rise again.
Then Dyson took the place of Josh, his feet quite blessed with speed
A bunt and then a stolen base, and dancing at his deed.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Nori’s blow.
The game is tied — a miracle! — free baseball comes tonight
Two innings passed without a score, the twelfth would end the plight.
The A’s struck first and took the lead, and with it took my breath
Three outs remain, then Cain grounds out, what felt like baseball death.
Yet Hosmer tripled to left field and split the defense gap
And tied the game on Christian’s hit, these Royals full of scrap.
Then Salvy stepped up to the dish, and two strikes in the hole
Something crooked his way came, he pulled it toward the pole.
He ran to first, his arms held high, his face was shining bright
Colón then scored, this comeback team, who never gave up sight.
For now the men are laughing, and now the children shout
There is great joy across KC, we knocked the A’s right out.
