The Mightier Pitcher Who Struck Out Mighty Casey at the Bat

By now you’ve heard the story of Mudville’s great defeat

The day that Casey whiffed as the crowd was on its feet

“What a disappointment!” echoed thousands, exit-bound

But not one person credited the man atop the mound

That man is me, Ernie Split, best pitcher in the league

The real hero of the story, who suffers Casey lore fatigue

For Casey was a subpar batter, no accolades deserved

While he may have statured mightily, he couldn’t hit my curve

A classic case of body judgment from all the shoddy critics

If only they’d read Moneyball, they’d’ve grasped the analytics.

While Mudville screamed its worst, your boy was muy tranquilo

I knew my nasty curveball would negate Casey’s exit velo

I was throwing cheese that day, nothing Mudville could wrangle

Plus I knew Casey’s swing had an unfavorable launch angle.

My command was unrelenting, peppered on the strike zone border

And my pitches danced by batters, even third time through the order.

Even if he had made contact, I had faith in our shift

Against my offspeed, a grounder would not dare run adrift

All year I’d pitched to defense, a new trend in the game

It lowered down my BABIP and garnered much acclaim

My game’s sweet redemption was noted on Twitter threads

Exalted on the baseball blogs and ranting TV talking heads

My year to be the hero, World Series MVP

So why is Casey titular? He’s undeserving of marquee

Even with a title ring and new flourishing narration

A new foe awaits: My contract has more years in arbitration

Greedy owners manipulated minor league service time

A gross plan to keep me from the majors, the team in Anaheim

My year should have been a triumph, a champion’s parade

But now, it seems that ownership thinks they’re the ones who played

I hope the union takes them deep, not like Casey and his “might”

Or once again, my story ends with an untimely strike.