Thursday, November 6, 2008

From our Good Buddy Don

Johnny at the Bat
(with apologizes to Earnest Thayer)

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Republicans that day;
The score stood two to one, with but one election more to play,
And then when Freddy died at first, and Huckabee 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 that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Johnny Mac could get a whack at that —
We'd put up even money now, with Johnny at the bat."

But Romney preceded Johnny, as did also Rudy G.,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was on a spree;
So upon the stricken Moderates grim melancholy sat;
For there seemed but little chance of Johnny Mac getting to the bat.

But Rudy let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Romney, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Romney safe at second and Rudy 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 Johnny, mighty Johnny, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Johnny's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Johnny's bearing and a smile lit Johnny's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Johnny 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 Johnny's eye, a sneer curled Johnny's lip.

And now McCain/Feingold came hurtling through the air,
And Johnny stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy Senator the bill unheeded sped —
"That’s just my style," said Johnny. "Strike one!" the electorate said.

From the benches, black with Moderates, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill them! Kill the Conservatives!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed them had not Johnny raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Johnny's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and Immigration Reform flew;
But Johnny still ignored it, and the electorate said "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened Moderates, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Johnny and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Johnny Mac wouldn't drop that ball again.

The sneer has fled from Johnny's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the consultant holds the ad, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Johnny's blow.

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 little children shout;
But there is no joy in the Heartland — Johnny Mac has struck out.

[Click on the title above, or date stamp below, to see the full article.]

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