Mudville Nine and Wilmette Ten

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville Nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair.  The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that - 
They's put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.
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In the famous poem, Casey at the Bat, many fans abandoned all hope in the final inning.   The Mudville Nine are down by two runs.  Cooney and Barrows quickly go down.  Two outs.  Flynn rips a single and Blake smashes a double with Flynn advancing to third. 

Down two runs.  Two men on.  Two outs.

Confident Casey stands in the batter's box as the potential winning run.

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The infamous Cougars were, in fact, quite optimistic about a last inning rally.  The Wilmette Ten were down by two runs.  Ski started with a single.  The Professor (Teddy is the man - thanks Catherine!) put a good swing on the ball but was out.  Hogs crushed a single with Ski advancing to second.  Boom hit a shot but a nice play by their infielder was able to force Hogs at second with Ski going to third.    

Down two runs.  Two men on.  Two outs.

Confident Rads stands in the batter's box as the potential winning run.

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The final stanza from Ernest Thayer's poem sums up the night for me and Casey:

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 shout;

But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

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There is quite a bit of symmetry in those at-bats.  Once strike three is called the similarities end.

When the mighty Casey whiffed, the entire ballpark was despondent and went home with heads hung low.  

When Captain Cougar whiffed, the entire ballpark was sad but grateful the game was complete so we could begin the postgame party.  

The Philthy Phamily hosted a Smoquin' feast!  (Thanks to birthday celebrators Phil and Meg!!!)

We were not smokin' on the field with the 5-3 loss to Doublecross last night.  We were dangerous though.  Ski took the line "kill the umpire" from the poem literally.  Using his bat as a weapon, he pulverized the ump's leg.  It was a bloody mess.

Next week we move from the Mudville Nine to playing Slaughterhouse Nine.

We plan to mirror the words written by the great American poet, John Fogerty.

Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all - a moment in the sun;

It's gone and you can tell that one goodbye!