Let's play Post-Game Interview!

Answer a question, then post a question of your own. The stupidest questions and the most cliché-ridden non-responses get the most points.



"Casey, do you think the fact that you wear a full beard as opposed to the Van Dyke sported by 99 percent of players helped you tonight?"

And that's the thing about this team. If the Andy Van Dykes don't get it done, then the Fulls or the Soul Patches will."

Q: On the mound out there with the bases loaded, how badly did you want that third out?

It can be especially difficult in a situation like that, with the bases loaded. I mean, it's the playoffs. Things get tight sometimes, but I wasn't going to let it worry me. We got through the inning and, you know, we're ready to move on to the next game here."

Q: If you could point to one moment in the game where you realized you were going to win, what would that moment be?

Are you in the bigs?

:hi:

Those things can be tough to hear, but you can't let them get to you. I kind of let them roll off my back as well as I could, and I think I did alright. We've had a great run so far, and I'm really honored to be playing with such a great bunch of guys."

:rofl: This is fun!

Well played, sir! :rofl: :applause:

I don't think the beard had a lot to do with it (unless God is in my beard)."

"Grady, go through that last at-bat for us. What did it feel like? What were you thinking?"

?

Watsahatchee High School, did you ever allow yourself to dream of this moment?

:7

Do You hope to see your picture on Wheaties?

I just need to stay within myself, have good intensity and wait for my pitch. Lester's a great pitcher, and I was just hoping for a pitch I could drive, a pitch with good intensity that stayed within itself."

he Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.