4544752Base-Ball Ballads — The Climax of Fan JoyCharles H. WellingtonGrantland Rice
THE CLIMAX OF FAN JOY.
There was cheering in the grandstand when Bill Bradley hit to right, And the bleachers whooped and clamored in a chorus of delight; And when the twirler lost control and passed the next two "up," The wine of human happiness brimmed swiftly o'er the cup.
The bases full, with two men out, and Larry at the bat. O, can you wonder that each fan should stand and wave his hat? Or can you wonder that the yelp should percolate the gloam, With Larry waiting anxiously to bring the runners home?
The pitcher whirls and cuts one loose—a brawny gent is he— And, like a cannon shot, it shoots above the batsman's knee; He swings—and lo! from every throat of that excited crowd There comes a shriek of fiendish joy—protracted long and loud.
The greatest laugh of all crowns a scrappy game of ball When a foul-tip cracks the umpire on the knee.
The fans arise and yelp in glee, while hats are thrown in air; The mighty chorus echoes from the ball yard to the square; It rumbles down the valley and resounds from peak to peak, And leagues away it travels on in one discordant shriek.
They stamp and shout in maddened rout; they joyfully embrace— A smile of perfect happiness illumines every face; Nor does the tumult quickly die, but, in exultant roar, It gathers volume like the waves which lash the ocean's shore.
"Then Larry must have made a hit and cleared the sacks," you say, "Thus winning with a mighty swat the hard-fought, brilliant fray!" No, Larry didn't make a hit; the cause of all this din, The inshoot caromed off his bat and cracked the umpire's shin.
