How many know Casey gets revenge?

I was maybe nine or 10 years old the first time I heard the immortal words of Ernest L. Thayer's time-honored poem, "Casey At The Bat." I say heard instead of read because it was an animated reading on television that depicted Casey going to the plate and crushing the hearts of Mudville fans by striking out to end the game he had a chance to win in the bottom of the ninth inning.

I loved the poem at first and after reading it the first time, cut it out of a periodical and reread it hundreds of times over the next few years until the yellow, dog-eared piece of paper met its end. At some time, though, I began to feel sorry for the maligned Casey who received all the blame for the defeat of "the Mudville Nine that day."

Thayer wrote the poem way back in 1888 and that's a whole lot of time for an even greater number of readers to shake their heads when Casey whiffed.

Along about the time I was a senior in high school, I perused some of the works of the great Grantland Rice and discovered a poem written by him in 1906, entitled "Casey's Revenge."

As I began to read it, "Casey's Revenge" to me was better in all ways than what Thayer had written. It contained such classic lines as: "All his past fame was forgotten -- he was now a hopeless shine -- They called him 'Strike-out Casey' from the mayor down the line ...

See what I mean? "... a look of hopeless fury shone in Casey's eye."

And I began to wonder why this poem by arguably the most famous writer of sports of all time never caught the public fancy? Maybe it did way back in 1906, but was quickly forgotten because it in itself is meaningless. Unless you know Casey's history, reading this poem is a waste of time.

I'd be willing to wager that for every 10,000 people who are familiar with "Casey at the Bat," maybe one knows that was not the end of the story.

Remember the dull thud with which the original ended?

"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."

But the worm has a way of turning and the sun always shines another day. As Rice wrote so beautifully, "And fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men ..."

The bottom of the ninth rolled around again when the same team came back to town and the situation was Mudville down 4-1 with the bases loaded and two out. Up comes the disgraced Casey to what must have been a chorus of boos as the pitcher who had humbled him the first time got a second strike with an overpowering pitch.

Here comes the best part:

"But here the pitcher whirled again -- was that a rifle shot? A whack -- a crack -- and out through space the leather pellet flew; A blot against the distant sky -- a speck against the blue.

Above the fence in centre field in rapid whirling flight; The sphere sailed on -- the blot grew dim and then was lost to sight ..."

Yeah, folks. I guess every dog does have his day.

And here is how Rice saw fit to close his tribute to Casey:

"Oh! somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun, And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun; And somewhere over blighted loves there hangs a heavy pall; But Mudville hearts are happy now -- for Casey hit the ball."