Thoughts on “Mighty Trumpy at the Bat”

As the famous poem by Earnest Thayer has it, “The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day. The score stood four to two with but one inning more to play.” Soon Mighty Trumpy was coming to the plate, “but Flynn preceded Trumpy, as did also Jimmy Blake, and the former was a hoodoo while the latter was a cake. So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, for there seemed but little chance of Mighty Trumpy getting to the bat. But Flynn let fly a single to the wonderment of all, and Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball., So when the dust had settled, there was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn huggin’ third. 

But, as you all know, there was no joy in Mudville for mighty Trumpy had struck out. He huffed and puffed but failed once again to deliver on his self-centered, blowhard promises. Of course, the real lesson of the poem has to do with Flynn and Blake. Despite not having a big-time reputation, these two guys did their best and got on base. Therein hangs the real message of the famous poem. Real ballplayers, rather than being full of braggadocio and self-centered baloney, come through when the chips are down and do their part. Struggles are not won by self-centered behavior, but by hard, unselfish effort at the key moments.

So, there can be joy in our Mudville if everyone does their part and pulls together. Let’s all just get on base! Do our best and even play “over our heads”. Then we shall be able to celebrate, and little children will shout. Big Trumpy will have finally struck out.

 

(Editor’s note: Jerry requested Thayer’s poem and the transcript of Abbott & Costello’s famous “Who’s On First?” be included. Enjoy.)

Casey at the Bat

Ernest Lawrence Thayer (1863 –1940)

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 pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile lit 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.

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 flashed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

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.

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 have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, “Strike two!”

“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.

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.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured 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.

(This poem is in the public domain.)

Who’s On First?

By Abbott & Costello

Abbott: Well Costello, I’m going to New York with you. The Yankees’ manager gave me a job as coach for as long as you’re on the team.
Costello: Look Abbott, if your the coach, you must know all the players.
Abbott: I certainly do.
Costello: Well you know I’ve never met the guys. So you’ll have to tell me their names, and then I’ll know who’s playing on the team.
Abbott: Oh, I’ll tell you their names, but you know it seems to me they give these ball players now-a-days very peculiar names.
Costello: You mean funny names?
Abbott: Strange names, pet names…like Dizzy Dean…
Costello: His brother Daffy
Abbott: Daffy Dean…
Costello: And their French cousin.
Abbott: French?
Costello: Goofe’
Abbott: Goofe’ Dean. Well, let’s see, we have on the bags, Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know is on third…
Costello: That’s what I want to find out.
Abbott: I say Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third.
Costello: Are you the manager?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: You gonna be the coach too?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: And you don’t know the fellows’ names.
Abbott: Well I should.
Costello: Well then who’s on first?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: I mean the fellow’s name.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy on first.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The first baseman.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy playing…
Abbott: Who is on first!
Costello: I’m asking you who’s on first.
Abbott: That’s the man’s name.
Costello: That’s whose name?
Abbott: Yes.
Costello: Well go ahead and tell me.
Abbott: That’s it.
Costello: That’s who?
Abbott: Yes.

PAUSE

Costello: Look, you gotta first baseman?
Abbott: Certainly.
Costello: Who’s playing first?
Abbott: That’s right.
Costello: When you pay off the first baseman every month, who gets the money?
Abbott: Every dollar of it.
Costello: All I’m trying to find out is the fellow’s name on first base.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy that gets…
Abbott: That’s it.
Costello: Who gets the money…
Abbott: He does, every dollar of it. Sometimes his wife comes down and collects it.
Costello: Who’s wife?
Abbott: Yes.

PAUSE

Abbott: What’s wrong with that?
Costello: Look, all I wanna know is when you sign up the first baseman, how does he sign his name?
Abbott: Who.
Costello: The guy.
Abbott: Who.
Costello: How does he sign…
Abbott: That’s how he signs it.
Costello: Who?
Abbott: Yes.

PAUSE

Costello: All I’m trying to find out is what’s the guys name on first base.
Abbott: No. What is on second base.
Costello: I’m not asking you who’s on second.
Abbott: Who’s on first.
Costello: One base at a time!
Abbott: Well, don’t change the players around.
Costello: I’m not changing nobody!
Abbott: Take it easy, buddy.
Costello: I’m only asking you, who’s the guy on first base?
Abbott: That’s right.
Costello: Ok.
Abbott: Alright.

PAUSE

Costello: What’s the guy’s name on first base?
Abbott: No. What is on second.
Costello: I’m not asking you who’s on second.
Abbott: Who’s on first.
Costello: I don’t know.
Abbott: He’s on third, we’re not talking about him.
Costello: Now how did I get on third base?
Abbott: Why you mentioned his name.
Costello: If I mentioned the third baseman’s name, who did I say is playing third?
Abbott: No. Who’s playing first.
Costello: What’s on base?
Abbott: What’s on second.
Costello: I don’t know.
Abbott: He’s on third.
Costello: There I go, back on third again!

PAUSE

Costello: Would you just stay on third base and don’t go off it.
Abbott: Alright, what do you want to know?
Costello: Now who’s playing third base?
Abbott: Why do you insist on putting Who on third base?
Costello: What am I putting on third?
Abbott: No. What is on second.
Costello: You don’t want who on second?
Abbott: Who is on first.
Costello: I don’t know.
Together: Third base!

PAUSE

Costello: Look, you gotta outfield?
Abbott: Sure.
Costello: The left fielder’s name?
Abbott: Why.
Costello: I just thought I’d ask you.
Abbott: Well, I just thought I’d tell ya.
Costello: Then tell me who’s playing left field.
Abbott: Who’s playing first.
Costello: I’m not…stay out of the infield!!! I want to know what’s the guy’s name in left field?
Abbott: No, What is on second.
Costello: I’m not asking you who’s on second.
Abbott: Who’s on first!
Costello: I don’t know.
Together: Third base!

PAUSE

Costello: The left fielder’s name?
Abbott: Why.
Costello: Because!
Abbott: Oh, he’s center field.

PAUSE

Costello: Look, You gotta pitcher on this team?
Abbott: Sure.
Costello: The pitcher’s name?
Abbott: Tomorrow.
Costello: You don’t want to tell me today?
Abbott: I’m telling you now.
Costello: Then go ahead.
Abbott: Tomorrow!
Costello: What time?
Abbott: What time what?
Costello: What time tomorrow are you gonna tell me who’s pitching?
Abbott: Now listen. Who is not pitching.
Costello: I’ll break your arm if you say who’s on first!!! I want to know what’s the pitcher’s name?
Abbott: What’s on second.
Costello: I don’t know.
Together: Third base!

PAUSE

Costello: Gotta catcher?
Abbott: Certainly.
Costello: The catcher’s name?
Abbott: Today.
Costello: Today, and tomorrow’s pitching.
Abbott: Now you’ve got it.
Costello: All we got is a couple of days on the team.

PAUSE

Costello: You know I’m a catcher too.
Abbott: So they tell me.
Costello: I get behind the plate to do some fancy catching, Tomorrow’s pitching on my team and a heavy hitter gets up. Now the heavy hitter bunts the ball. When he bunts the ball, me, being a good catcher, I’m gonna throw the guy out at first. So I pick up the ball and throw it to who?
Abbott: Now that’s the first thing you’ve said right.
Costello: I don’t even know what I’m talking about!

PAUSE

Abbott: That’s all you have to do.
Costello: Is to throw the ball to first base.
Abbott: Yes!
Costello: Now who’s got it?
Abbott: Naturally.

PAUSE

Costello: Look, if I throw the ball to first base, somebody’s gotta get it. Now who has it?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Who?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Naturally?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott: No you don’t you throw the ball to Who.
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That’s different.
Costello: That’s what I said.
Abbott: Your not saying it…
Costello: I throw the ball to Naturally.
Abbott: You throw it to Who.
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That’s it.
Costello: That’s what I said!
Abbott: You ask me.
Costello: I throw the ball to who?
Abbott: Naturally.
Costello: Now you ask me.
Abbott: You throw the ball to Who?
Costello: Naturally.
Abbott: That’s it.
Costello: Same as you! Same as YOU!!! I throw the ball to who. Whoever it is drops the ball and the guy runs to second. Who picks up the ball and throws it to What. What throws it to I Don’t Know. I Don’t Know throws it back to Tomorrow, Triple play. Another guy gets up and hits a long fly ball to Because. Why? I don’t know! He’s on third and I don’t give a darn!
Abbott: What?
Costello: I said I don’t give a darn!
Abbott: Oh, that’s our shortstop.

.

How Gestalt Sensory Perception Works

According to Gestalt cognitive theory, we understand meaning in holistic units based on how our brain or mind perceives them. Therefore, the sentence “Oh Wah Tagoo Siam” might seem like the opening line of a religious chant when said slowly in a prayer-like manner, but when spoken more quickly, it could be heard as “Oh what a goose I am.” Similarly, the words “Marsy dose and doesy does and liPle lambsy divy” would make sense when said as “Mares eat oats and does eat oats and liPle lambs eat ivy.” In the movie “Bang the Drum Slowly,” the ballplayers tease and make fun of their naïve “groupies” by pretending there is a card game called “TAGWAR” (The Amazing Game Without Any Rules) and creating arbitrary “rules” as they go, confusing and mocking their fans who never catch on to “rules.” One creates or “finds” meaning even when none exists. Thus, even though our sensory organs provide us with data, it remains just data until we interpret it within some “meaningful” framework or Gestalt.