Pen Snapshot of the British Fan
(Baseball is making a great hit in England. But even the exciting American game hasn’t been strenuous enough to arouse the lethargic Briton from his stolidness. The most exciting plays bring forth only faint applause, such as “Jolly well tried for, old chap.”—Item from Sportman’s Review.)
For eight fleeting innings the Warwickshire Browns
Had battled like fiends with the Berkshire brigade;
The grandstand was crowded by fans from the towns
All around who had come out to see the game played.
The hitting and fielding were simply immense,
No snappier game anywhere could be found;
They doubled and tripled and dented the fence,
While one-handed pick-ups were pulled off each round.
With the home team at bat, some performer of brawn
Scored three with a triple—a terrible smash;
His lordship remarked as he stifled a yawn,
“Bloody clever, old chap,” and then twirled his mustache.
This swat put the Warwickshire bunch in the lead;
But when the ninth came, every Berkshire fought hard,
And five of them scored in the hour of need
By clouting the leather all over the yard.
In the last of the tenth, four runs to the bad,
The first home man up made a hurricane swipe;
He tripled to center. “That wasn’t half bad,
Doncher know,” said a rooter while puffing his pipe.
Then followed a double that whistled to right;
Two yeomen, applauding, were chased from the park;
The score was soon tied up with victory in sight.
“Bah Jove,” murmured one, “what a deuce of a lark!”