Posted by Rob McQuown on Wednesday, May 6, 2009 at 1:36 pm

(as it originally appeared in the San Francisco Examiner, with apologies for the commentary)

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.

Cooney had come into the game in a double-switch, replacing the pitcher, who was batting 8^th. If the 8th-inning rally had worked out, he would have been in for his defense.

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.

Mudville is nowhere near LA, but when your Win Expectancy is down to 1.3% (winexp.walkoffbalk.com, pre-1987 values used), might as well beat traffic.

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.

After some research by the folks at Fictional Baseball department at SABR, it’s come to light that the Mudville manager was a man named “Musty Baker”, explaining the curious selections for 1-2 hitters in the lineup.

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.

As Tony LaRussa would later say about a completely different baseball event: “once in awhile you get a miracle like this.”

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.

Heck Yeah! Mudville is up to 11.6% win expectancy now!! The “stats geeks” who haven’t made it out the gate are now crowding the aisles, trying to catch the finale, though most are gone already, and with the down economy, only 5,000 fans remained. That’s okay, though, they can come back tomorrow, when there’s a 54.3% chance the home team will win. 11.6%, pshaw!

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.

Casey had always been considered a prima donna, but that never stopped the fans in Mudville from rooting for him.

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.

Allegations of doctoring the baseball have never been proven, but the “brown spot” has been shown on ESPN HD 1000 times since, and most fans believe something was not right.

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.

Casey was always among the league leaders in pitches seen per plate appearance.

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 it’s likely they’d a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

Casey’s great eye at the plate just confirmed the K-Zone replay showing that the pitch was indeed a strike. It’s so hard to tell from the stands, isn’t it?

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shown;

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.”

Casey’s used to getting the “black”, due to his batting eye, but every so often the pitcher gets one. 8” of bite on this breaking pitch, and it could have been called as going “around the plate”, but it wasn’t “Casey’s pitch” anyway, so he took it. You can tell that non-SABR fans comprise more of the hangers-on at this point. The SABR members are all applauding Casey’s patience at this point.

“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.

Silly fans, Casey’s a Three True Outcomes guy, of course he’ll let it go by if it’s not a strike! Besides, he’s not a very good 2-strike hitter, so he’s crowding the plate a little more, with his well-armored elbow stuck out, in an attempt to extend the inning by getting hit.

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.

Long gone are the days of “cutting down on your swing” with two strikes. Casey’s up there taking his hacks. He knows the risk/reward tradeoff for swinging from the heels here, and that next contract gets it’s extra 0’s from extra HR’s, not slap singles.

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.

Casey’s well-known for his “clutch hitting”, and to go down swinging in a 3.7 Leverage Index situation is mildly disappointing, though there will be plenty of other “clutch” situations. He could get a 3.7 LI as soon as the 4^th inning of tomorrow’s game, for example! This game is just another data point, helping to prove that there’s no such thing as clutch ability! Besides, the team was all but lost, anyway, with less than a 12% chance to win the game.

Please feel free to leave comments below. Questions for the author may be submitted to Rob McQuown at rmcquown@baseballdigestdaily.com or robmcquown@yahoo.com. Past articles for this author can be found under “Staff Writers” at the Baseball Daily Digest site.