From: grady12@westol.com (Jen Grady)
Date: Sun, 9 Jun 1996 16:44:01 -0400
Subject: Mulder at the Bat 1/1

DISCLAIMER- They all belong to CC, except Agent Blake. I ain't stealin'
them. "Casey at the Bat" belongs to Ernest Lawrence Thayer- again not
stealin' it.

COMMENTS- Mail me, please?

"Mulder at the Bat"
By Jen Grady
grady12@westol.com

        The outlook wasn't brilliant for the FBI nine that day;
        The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play;
        And so, when Colton died at first, and Pendrell did the same,
        A sickly 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 Mulder could but get a whack, at that,
        They'd put up even money now, with Mulder at the bat.

        But Scully preceded Mulder, as did also Agent Blake,
        And the former was a pudding, and the latter was a fake;
        So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
        For there seemed but little chance of Mulder's getting to the bat.

        But Scully let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
        And Blake, the much-despised, tore the cover off the ball;
        And when to dust had lifted, and they saw what had occurred,
        There was Blake safe on second, and Scully a-hugging third.

        Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell;
        It bounded from the mountaintop, and rattled in the dell;
        It struck upon the hillside, and recoiled upon the flat;
        For Mulder, mighty Mulder, was advancing to the bat.

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

        And now the leather covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
        And Mulder stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there;
        Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped.
        "That ain't my style," said Mulder. "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!" shoutes someone on the stand;
        And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Mulder raised his 
          hand.

        With a smile of Christian charity great Mulder's visage shone;
        He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
        He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
        But Mulder still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

        "Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered, "Fraud!"
        But a scornful look from Mulder, and the audience was awed;
        They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
        And they knew that Mulder wouldn't let that ball go by again.

        The sneer is gone from Mulder's lips, 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 Mulder'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 somewhere children shout,
        But there is no joy in the FBI- mighty Mulder has struck out!
 
 
 Jen Grady aka The Mystic Kabrina
 http://www.westol.com/~grady12/xfiles.htm
 grady12@westol.com, trustno1_669@prodigy.com, Kabrina@prodigy.com
 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 X-Phile, DDTeen, LGW #88, X-Files Fanfic List, David Duchovny admirer,  
 MSCL'er, B5'er, Mistress of the Dark Side, Leader of the Army of Darkness,
 CHiPs Chick, Psychic in Training, Future Poet, School Hater, Mistress of
 Witchcraft, Ouija board master, OOBE doer, tarot card lover, spells, Mother
 of Aerin the Cyberdragon, softball, volleyball, M & S relationshipper, High
 Priestess of the First Church of Voowitchism, DENY EVERYTHING, TRUST NO ONE, 
 APOLOGY IS POLICY, THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE, and most of all, I WANT TO 
 BELIEVE!!!!
 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 KABRINA'S QUOTE TILL SHE FINDS ANOTHER COOL ONE:
 "When you look closely, people are so strange and complicated that they're
actually beautiful." - Angela Chase, "My So-Called Life"

 K A B R I N A  D E N I E S  K N O W L E D G E
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