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.
From Casey at the Bat by Ernest Thayer
It was awfully late in the year to be attending my first baseball game of the season;
nearly mid-June, a Tuesday evening game against the Washington Nationals. I usually manage to get to the yard in late
April; certainly no later than mid-May.
This game was a birthday present for my son and a present for myself. There aren't many better ways to spend an
evening than taking in a ballgame with your son. It’s the American way. There are a lot of “American ways”; some
good, some not so much. This is one of
the best.
