• Author: J.P.C.
• Editor: B-2331
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 2
• Page Number:
• Date: 5 28 1913
• Tags:
• poetry
• ESP League
• game
• baseball

Library vs Ninth The outlook sure was dismal for the Library team that day, With the score at one to nothing and five minutes left to play; So when ‘‘Longie'' died at second, and ‘‘Cap"' did the same, The Library Team was jubilant at chance to win the game. ‘The other Blocks were leaving, for they thought the Library won, The Library by their playing had them stopped without a run, Then a youth, by name McKenty, came to bat and toed the plate, His wary eye was gleaming and his batting poise was great. But ‘‘Eddy'' who was umpire, recalled an error grave, In giving ‘‘Bill"? precedence over ‘‘Lefty"' and o'er ‘‘Wade," So in the Ninth Block corner a deathlike silence sat, There seemed but little chances of ‘‘Bill"' getting to the bat. But ‘Wade' let drive a "‘single,"' to the wonderment of all, And the much despised ‘ Lefty'? ‘"‘tore the cover off the ball,' And when the dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred, There was ‘‘Lefty" safe at second, and "Wade'' a hugging third. Then from the Ninth Block multitudes went up a joyous yell, It rambled in the Store House; it sounded long and well; It struck upon the Fifth Block and rebounded on the flat, For ‘William J. McKenty' was advancing to the bat There was ease in ‘‘William's' manner as he stepped into his place, here was pride in ‘‘William's'' bearing and a smile on ‘‘William's" face And when responding to the cheers he lightly doffed his hat, There was no doubting who it was, for ‘‘Bill"' was at the bat. Two hundred eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt, One hundred hands applauded when he wiped them on his shirt; And when the Library's pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance gleamed in ‘‘William's"' eyes, a sneer curled ‘‘William's'' lip. And now the white tape-covered sphere came hurling thro' the air, And ‘‘William stood a-watching it in mighty grandeur there; Close by the little batsman the ball unheeded sped— ‘That ain't my style,'' said ‘‘William." "Strike one !" then ‘‘Eddy"' said. From the crowded lines of ‘tinmates'' there went up a mighty brawl, Like the beating of a storm wave on the "Fair-mount Avenue wall;" "Chase him? chase the umpire !"' someone from the ‘‘Band," And it's likely he'd had ‘Klondike had not "William'' raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity ‘‘McKenty's" visage shown, He stilled the rising tumult, he bade the game go on; He singled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew, But "William" still ignored it, and then "Raddy" said, ‘‘Strike two!"' "Fraud! yelled the maddened Ninth Block, and the echo answered ‘‘Fraud!' But one scornful look from ‘‘William'? and the audience was awed; They saw his face grow cold and stern, they saw his muscles strain, ‘ And they knew that he wouldn't let that ball go by again. ‘The sneer is gone from ‘William's'' lips, his teeth are clenched in hate ° He pounds with cruel vengeance his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he Jets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of "William's'' blow. Oh, somewhere here in ‘Cherry Hill" the sun is shining bright, The "Band" is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere others shout, But gloom is on the Ninth Block—‘‘McKenty" has struck out. —J. P.C.