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Showing results for tags 'Baseball'.
Found 7 results
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Welcome to the spot where you can discuss the story 'The Field of Love' Well, I've started my second story. I hope you all like it!
- 32 replies
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- 5
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- Baseball
- coming of age
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With my favorite team (STL Cardinals) moving up in the NCLS, I was wondering who your fav's. go to. Ideally, I'd like the Yankees face the Cards, and the Cards wipe their face in the mud, however unlikely that it is.... Wish we had a playoff pool like we did for hockey last year... Folks would be salty when I won this one
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Cardinal nation is in mourning. Our greatest Cardinal has passed away. http://www.ksdk.com/rss/article/357844/3/Hall-of-Famer-Stan-Musial-dies He will be remembered and missed for his ready smile and unfailing grace. DDK
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Here's what makes watching baseball on TV better than being in the stadium:
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Does anyone feel sorry for the Yankees? The past three games, they have scored eight or nine runs...and lost all three games. How about those Red Sox? September 5, 2013 R H E BOS 9 16 0 NYY 8 10 1 September 6, 2013 R H E BOS 12 15 0 NYY 8 7 0 September 7, 2013 R H E BOS 13 14 0 NYY 9 12 0
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Casey at the Bat, the poem by Ernest Lawrence Thayer, was first published in the San Francisco Examiner 125 years ago today. 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 — We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat. But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, 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 on Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed 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 writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance gleamed 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 haughty grandeur 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 muffled 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 its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew; But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two." "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 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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According to an article in today's New York Times, Major League Baseball and Alex Rodriguez are playing hardball and have called in the heavy hitters (attorneys and investigators) in the current arbitration over the punishment Rodriguez may receive for using banned substances. Ambushing and threatening witnesses, offering bribes, buying stolen medical files - even sexual relations - are part of the game. It stinks. Baseball will be better off when both Alex Rodriguez and Bud Selig are no longer part of the game.
