Romney at the Bat


With humble apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, who wrote “Casey at the Bat,” which was published in The San Francisco Examiner in 1888.

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the GOP this year:
The economy had tanked; hope and change had morphed to fear.
The strong and swift refused to join the presidential race.
So the weak and doubtful rose — and tried to take their place.

Our Herman Cain, for instance, flogged his taxing 9-9-9.
To 10 parts cuts but 1 part tax, all said that they’d decline.
Newt brought his wife, who wore her hair as if it were a hat.
Forget the freak show, sages said; bring Romney to the bat.

Pawlenty bailed ‘fore Huntsman, after Bachmann grabbed the straw,
Though Huntsman was a RINO and she a foster ma.
Ron Paul cleaned up the college vote; Rick Perry had his back.
Santorum won in Iowa, but vote counts didn’t track.

So Romney thanked Des Moines and felt himself a great debater,
While Newt the bellicose still argued with the moderator.
The deal, all vowed, would be no deal, but Romney said it best.
Santorum barked it, doglike, ripping up his sweater vest.

Then Romney tapped Paul Ryan, and Ryan filled the tent.
In Romney math, they’d win it, with their 53 percent.
Barack Obama blamed George Bush for economic woes.
And Mitt gleamed like a bonus for the Wall Street CEOs.

Super PACs charged that Bain had killed a worker’s wife; it worked.
Who said “Mitt’s a murderer”? a campaign spokestress smirked.
Dirty Harry told a chair to seat itself, puh-lease.
Bill Clinton talked so fine that folks forgot he was a sleaze.

Still, Romney won the first debate — so easy, with no trips.
Obama seemed both proud and bored — few words upon his lips.
When pundits said the Chosen One, he must be off his feed,
That signaled to Team Romney they could sit upon their lead.

Benghazi boiled; would Romney raise the bogus White House spin?
He stumbled on his sound bite, and poor Candy waded in.
“Not optimal,” those corpses, later quoth the prez. But then,
The rabid press had spotted Ann, a known equestrian.

Once, Romney placed poor Seamus on the station wagon roof —
a more defining moment than Obama’s debt deal goof.
“Thanks a lot for Romneycare,” Obama smugly said.
“That wasn’t me, or wasn’t I,” Mitt Romney meekly pled.

From the pollsters, hooked to landlines, a question mark appeared:
About those undecideds — are they clueless or just weird?
“Kill them. Kill the pollsters!” bloggers fumed and quite sincerely.
And though murder seemed a tad extreme, sometimes it didn’t really.

“It’s voter fraud!” the base cried out. “This early voting’s crap.”
They found some hope when Rove intoned, “Enthusiasm gap.”
Let Axe and Plouffe remind the base to telephone their friends;
May binders full of women turn out wearing their Depends.

Then Sandy hit the Jersey shore; Obama hit the beach.
In Boston, busy handlers penned a quick concession speech.
O Florida, O Keystone State, beloved Ohio,
You are so very blue today, though red two years ago.

Oh, somewhere in this welfare state, large crowds are having fun.
John Boehner isn’t crying as Obama crows, “I won.”
He’s racing toward the fiscal cliff — while voters scream and shout.
What D.C. pol can break the fall? Mitt Romney has struck out.

Email Debra J. Saunders at: [email protected].

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