KOD At The Bat
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Madjack nine that day;
The score stood four to two with but one inning left to play;
And then, when hardcorecap died at first, and badjab 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 KOD could but get a whack at that,
We'd put up even money now, with KOD at the bat.
But BOXLOCKS proceded KOD, as did also fletcher Blake,
And the former was a no-good and the latter was a fake;
So, upon that stricken multitude grim meloncholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of KOD's getting to the bat.
But BOXLOCKS let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And fletcher, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball,
And when the dust had lifted and men saw what had occurred,
There was BOXLOCKS safe at second, and fletcher a-huggin' third.
Then from five thousand 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 KOD, mighty KOD, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in KOD's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in KOD's bearing and a smile on KOD's face,
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the croud could doubt `twas KOD at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tounges applauded as he wiped them on his shirt.
Then, while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in KOD's eye, a sneer curled KOD's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And KOD stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there,
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped --
"That ain't my style," said KOD. "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 from the stand;--
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not KOD raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great KOD'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 KOD still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud," cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered "Fraud,"
But one scornful look from KOD, and the multitude was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold; they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that KOD wouldn't let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from KOD'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 KOD'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 joy at Madjacks -- KOD just knocked it out.
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