Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE NO-HIT GAME, by WILLIAM A. PHELON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE NO-HIT GAME, by                    
First Line: Round after round they were falling, nobody
Last Line: "yet they kept on repeating, ""that bird ain't got a darned thing!"
Subject(s): Athletes; Baseball; Sports


ROUND after round they were falling, nobody reaching base,
The pitcher making a monkey out of each terrible ace—
Fanning and popping and grounding, never a man "getting on,"
Each of them just like a hayseed, caught by a new game of con—
And, as each came to the batcave, after he'd missed every swing,
All you could hear them repeating, "Why, he ain't got a darned thing!"
Innings and innings were passing, all of them trying in vain,
Whacking at air and mosquitoes, till they were almost insane—
Popups to short and to second, soft ones a child couldn't muff,
Everyone helpless and blinded, stung by the pitcher's neat stuff—
Each of them looked like some battler whom Dempsey had caught in the ring—
Yet they kept on repeating, "That bird ain't got a darned thing!"





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