Casey Who?

Endicott Road

What if the three little pigs played a baseball game against the big bad wolf and his friends?

(c)2012 T.A.Beckett

The Pigville nine were losing
That sunny afternoon.
If they didn’t mount a rally
The game would be oversoon.
Willie the Wolf pitched a game.
Every at bat was the same.
Batter after batter went down
Til the home team had to frown.

It’s 4 to 2, what do we do?
If only we could get on base.
Maybe then, once again, we could put them in their place.
We can all hit and we don’t quit.
A single or a double would do.
Then a walk, a steal, a balk,
And we’d be even with you.

Bottom of the ninth came along
And they finally caught a break.
Second and third with two out and the game was at stake.
Pigville’s big slugger strode to the plate.
The kind of batter many love
And many more hat.

It’s 4 to 2 but we will do to them what they did to us.
Peter Porker will hit a corker and they’ll be under the bus.
Willie’s rubber arm has done us harm but no more, no more.
They won’t win like they did again.
It will be 5 to 4.

Peter had a grin on his face as he took his stance.
The Wolves manager didn’t like the happenstance.
He went to the mound and talked to Willie a while.
When he came back to the dugout he was wearing a smile.

Willie took a sign went into his wind.
“Strike one” the ump called out.
Peter didn’t move, swing or grove,
He just stood there stout.

Another twitch, another pitch
And the call was “Strike two”.
The final throw was let go
And Peter’s bat followed through.

There are days it never pays
Just to get out of bed.
Many heads shook and could not look.
“We’re done, oh we’re dead.”

But Peter’s bat was better than that,
His swing was full of style.
He had a knock, he hit that rock
More than a country mile.