Casey at the Bowling Alley

It looked extremely gloomy
On that late November day
For Mary led by twenty nine
With two frames left to play.

So Casey felt some pressure
As he entered the 9th frame
‘Cause Mary missed a spare to start
He still was in the game.

The ball he rolled with gusto
And then he got a scare
Pins 5 and 10 were standing
But WOW (!) he hit the spare.

“Don’t talk to me,” sniffed Mary
As she started the tenth frame
Her weak attempt felled just four pins
The second did the same.

The gods of opportunity
Made Casey’s chances slim
He’d need a strike to start it
And then two more to win.

His first release was shakiest
Far from the perfect spot
Pins wiggled, bumped, and jiggled
But every one he got.

The second roll was wobbly too
Just nudging every pin
But when the dust had lifted
He’d cleared the deck again.

There was grim determination now
On Casey’s frowning face
He squeezed the ball and glared upon
The pins to be displaced

At first he took a single step
Then two and three and four
The sphere swung out behind him
And he flung it down the floor.

Oh somewhere out in Oregon
The children dance and play
The eagles soar majestically
High over Depoe Bay

And somewhere folks are joyous
All hearts are filled with glee
But not today in Marysville
For Casey nailed strike three

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