Big Nate by Lincoln Peirce for July 30, 1995

Transcript:

MUDVILLE NATE AT THE BAT (with apologies to E.L. Thayer) The ballgame wasn't going well. In fact, the scene was awful. The score was thirten for the Cubs to twelve for Joe's Falafel. The bottom of the ninth was moving fast from bad to worse, as Francis flied to center field and Ed was nipped at first. The end was near, or so it seemed. Our chances looked quite meager. But then out shortstop Bobby Kane He lined a Texas Leaguer. Next Jim received a base on balls. The Cubs began to sag. And when Cal slapped an infield hit we'd men at every bag. The crowd erupted when they saw who next strode to the plate. The Cubs turned pale and shook with fear. Who was it? Mighty Nate! His biceps bulged like cors of steel. He took a practice swing. He dug his cleats into the earth and watched the pitcher fling. With hawk-like vision Nate observed the placement of the ball. A little high, thought Mighty Nate. Strike one! the ump did call. The next one almost hit the plate as it came roaring through. That's not my pitch, said Mighty Nate. The ump declared Strike Two! "It takes just one to hit it out." The crowd her Nate complain. And then they knew he's surely be the hero of the game. The pitcher rocked a hurled ball. Nate watched it fast approach. And looking on in silent awe were teammates, fabs, a Coach. He took a swing, did Mighty Nate. A swift, heroic cut. The ball flew high above the field. It reached the Heavens...BUT...No happy shouts, no raucous cheers, no clapping can be heard. There is no joy between the lines. Mighty Nate has popped into third. NATE: That much! I missed it by that much!