Tall Tales & Legends (1985–1988): Season 1, Episode 3 - Casey at the Bat - full transcript
In the early years of baseball, a batter named Casey popularizes the sport and becomes a celebrity in the process.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig,
Willie Mays, Hank Aaron,
Reggie Jackson, Pete Rose,
and every kid from 7 to 70
knows their statistics
as well as their name.
May I have a hot one, please?
One hot one, coming
up, there you go.
-Thank you.
-You're welcome.
For if the game of baseball
is our national pastime,
the players of baseball are
surely our national heroes.
You tell 'em, Cheryl.
And there's no player more
famous than a slugger who
was created by a poetic sports
writer named Ernest Thayer, Jr.
The location was my Mudville.
The time was long ago.
The slugger's name was Casey.
We all know him as
Casey at the bat,
so I'll see you after the game.
[MUSIC - "BLUE SKIES"]
Well, for those of
you just tuning in,
the score is still tied,
4-4, and it doesn't look
like this rain is letting up.
But we got a beauty
going for ya, huh?
You are so obvious, Joe.
Yes, the tiny droplets
cascade to the Earth
in a symphony of wetness,
dampening our spirits
even as they dampen the turf.
Nothing like a rain delay to
get old motormouth going here.
Since we have a
little time here,
why don't we stop,
nay, pause-- nay, pause
did you get that,
Joe-- and tell the fans
a chapter from
baseball's great history.
This is a story,
Joe, about a man who
saved the great
game of baseball,
made it the sport we love today.
The man's name, Casey Frank.
Will you give me a break?
All right, we'll give you
a little Keats and Shelley.
The outlook wasn't brilliant
for the town of Mudville.
It was the long,
hot summer of 1888.
You were there.
NARRATOR: Mudville was like
any number of factory towns
in America that sprung
up like crab grass
after the Industrial Revolution.
Except in Mudville, they didn't
make steel or iron or tin.
They made mud.
They even had a mud museum.
The biggest factory in
town was Mudville Mudco.
They made mud chairs,
mud couches, mud lamps.
Everything for the modern
house could be made out of mud.
The man who ran the
company was a fellow
named Big Jim Undercrawl, or
as he was known to the town,
as Boss Undercrawl, or sometimes
Boss Big Jim Undercraw.
But despite his name,
he was not a kind man.
He was the sort of guy who
would sell his own mother
and charge extra for shipping.
Men, we're gonna change the
way we do business around here.
We're firing all the
workers at the factory,
and we're installing automated
mud-forging machines.
What do you think of that?
An excellent idea,
sir, an inspiration.
Can it, you toadying
little creep.
This brings me to
a little problem.
These machines let off an
unpleasant waste side effect,
a byproduct called sludge.
Now unlike the sludge that shows
up at a, uh, family reunion,
this stuff is hard
to get rid of.
So we're gonna need a dump site.
After considering
several of your homes,
I have decided on the
following alternative.
Smiley--
Oh, the White House, the EP--
The map!
The map, sir, the
map, the map, the map.
Out, get out of my way.
This is Mudville Stadium,
home of the Mudville Hogs,
the losingest baseball
team in the country.
The stadium is owned by the
widow Bleacher, who has agreed
to sell it to me for $500.
This will be no problem,
just as long as the old bat
doesn't die before then.
Any questions?
Well, yeah, yes,
excuse me, sir,
but the Mudville baseball
stadium is the only baseball
stadium on the planet.
That's where all the
teams go to play.
If you turn it
into a sludge dump,
where will people
go to play baseball?
Nowhere, that's where,
you hand-wringing turnip.
Nobody goes to
those games anyway,
except losers and
degenerates, and they
don't even brag about it.
Sir, I would-- I would--
Can it, you little hydrant.
You know what I
think about baseball?
I think baseball
should exist as a sleep
aid for the chronically awake.
Any fool that wants
to go around knocking
a strange, little, round
object with a long stick
ought to join a chain gang.
That's what I think.
What do you think?
-Chain gang.
Oh, chain gang, sir.
[AGREEING]
-All right, then it's settled.
We put our dump site here,
and baseball be damned.
NARRATOR: Baseball wasn't
only in its infancy.
It hadn't even been born yet.
You could hardly
call it baseball.
At this stage, whatever it
was, it was hard to like.
Look at those guys.
Oh, why, what a dumb sport.
Stay here, Slider.
So how come you're
here every day?
It's only because
my house burned down.
It was between this or sleeping
by the railroad tracks.
Tomorrow, I'm gonna
try the tracks.
Well, you just wait
and see, Charlie.
Baseball is a great game.
Someday, it's gonna be
the national pastime,
right, Slider?
[WOOF]
Come on, fellas.
Give 'em what for.
Smack that ball as
hard as you can.
Come on, guys.
Hit it in the sky,
over the fence.
bit
Hello again,
everyone, Ernie Thayer
on the Mudville
Telegraph Network.
And this is Joe
Thayer, Ern's color
man, bringing you exciting
Mudville Hogs baseball action.
Baseball fever, try it.
It's really not as
boring as it looks.
Well, the outlook isn't
brilliant for the Mudville nine
today.
The score stands 324 to 2, with
but one inning more to play.
Georgie, do you think Old Man
Williams will play me today?
I don't know, Casey.
He hasn't played you once
in the last three years,
but today's game is
a hopeless cause.
It could be your lucky break.
No, runner, that's bad.
That's bad.
-That's good, Casey.
-It is?
-Yeah.
-That's good.
Do it again, again.
Dog gone it all all.
I sure love this
darn sport, but I've
been sitting on a bench
for so long my fanny's got
permanent splinters.
If you want him to put
you in the game, Casey,
why don't you ask him?
Ask him?
That's a grand idea, Georgie.
You're a sweet kid.
They ought to name a
candy bar after you.
Right, like some people are
really gonna buy a candy bar
called Georgie Ruth.
Uh, excuse me, Mr. Williams.
Huh, what do you
want from me, bat boy?
I'm not the bat boy, sir.
I'm a player.
Oh, you want a promotion.
Is that it, huh?
You want to go from bat boy to
player, just like that, huh?
I already am a player, sir.
I'm a first baseman.
Oh, no.
No, no, no, no,
what's-his-name's on first.
Who's on first?
Don't you start that with me.
Uh, Mr. Williams, I just want
to know if I can play today.
Oh, what's the score?
Well, it's 324 to 2, sir.
No, the score is too close.
I can't take the rest.
All right, you
guys, let's get out
there, and show me your stuff.
Let's go.
Let's go.
Let's go.
Baseball is gonna
be big, Charlie.
You know who's gonna
make it happen?
Casey Frank, he's
gonna make baseball
into a national pastime.
All he needs is some confidence.
Slider, we've got our
work cut out for us.
[WOOF]
That's right.
NARRATOR: So after another
discouraging day at the ball
park, Casey went to
dinner at the home
of Barbara Dent, his fiance.
Barbara was the girl
next door, a kind
soul who worked hard to
support herself as a typist.
Unfortunately, the typewriter
had not yet been invented,
so Barbara suffered long
periods of unemployment.
BARBARA'S FATHER: Barbara--
Daddy is really looking
forward to seeing you, Casey.
BARBARA'S FATHER: When is
that good-for-nothing oaf
getting here, anyway?
Casey's here, Dad.
Oh, darn, thought he might
have gotten hit by a milk truck.
Don't mind my father, Casey.
He-- he's never quite himself
until he's had a nice bath.
He-- he's had a hard
day at the mud factory.
Ah, all cleaned up.
Did you have a good
day at work, sir?
What would you know about work?
You ain't never done an honest
day's work in your life.
Hi, Daddy.
Oh, hi, honey.
Hi.
You look so clean.
Oh, thank you, honey.
I am a foreman at the mud plant.
Why don't you come down and
let me give you a job there?
Or are you afraid to get down
and dirty with the big boys?
Casey is not afraid
of anything, Dad.
You know, the nice thing
about mud work, pal,
is that you're never gonna
be replaced by a machine.
I don't want to work
at the factory, sir.
I'm a baseball player.
You are?
Well, they never let you play.
Still, I love the concept.
Uh, Barbara, what--
what-- whatever happen
to that nice, uh,
dentist you were going
out with, uh, Billy Gumball.
I used to like him.
You remember, Daddy,
that he moved to Nevada
and was caught strangling a cow.
He's in jail now.
Hmm, still, he--
he was a nice boy.
Mr. Dent, why don't
you come out to the game
tomorrow with Barbara?
If I'm no good,
I'll quit baseball
and start a career in mud.
But if I do well, you've got
to let me marry your daughter.
Now that's a proposition
that interests me.
It's very dramatic.
Come on, you pinhead.
Let's go see the widow Belcher.
-Bleacher.
-It's my town.
I can pronounce their
names any way I want.
Pen.
-Pen.
-Paper.
-Paper.
-Water.
-Water.
Pacific red snapper.
Pacific red snapper, uh,
sir, what do you want to be
a Pacific red snapper for?
I don't, you
antediluvian doorknob.
I'm just exercising
my power randomly.
(SINGING) Yes, my
darling, you will be
always younger and fair to me.
Mrs. Bleacher, how
good to see you.
Uh-huh.
My, that's a lovely
sweater you're knitting.
Yeah, it's not a
sweater, you bozo.
It's a sock.
Hmm, you must have been
working on that a long time.
Ah, 17 years, since
my husband died,
I haven't had too many hobbies.
Ah, well.
Yeah, all you can
do at my age is
make socks, revise your will,
and keep track of your teeth.
Keep track your teeth.
[LAUGHTER]
Sir, I know I asked you
yesterday if I could play,
and you said, no.
But today is different.
Today, I am offering to pay you.
Oh, Casey, Casey Frank.
How do you know my name?
I've been watching you, boy.
I'm a big fan of yours.
Sure, what sport, sitting?
Look, let me
introduce myself, huh?
My name is Gumm, Pop Gumm.
Hi, Pop.
Casey, I think you could be the
biggest baseball player ever.
Thanks, Pop, but
what am I doing wrong?
Well, let me give you a
couple of batting tips.
Why don't you try holding
that bat upside down?
You mean by the thin part?
That's right, by the handle.
That'll never work.
Do you want to be
a legend or not?
Now listen.
This is a magic potion kind of
thing, my own special recipe.
I'll bring it to you
before every game.
You just rub it on your
bat, and every ball you hit
will be a home run.
Get out.
Stop being so
negative, you big lug.
Think positive.
With this potion on your
bat, step up to the plate.
You relax.
You take your swing,
and it's in the seats.
Do you know something?
It's crazy, but it
just might work.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Oh, Barbara, mighty
pretty dress, dear.
Ah, widow Bleacher, would
you mind signing the paper?
I give you the $500 and
take charge of the stadium.
Daisy, you can't
sell the stadium.
That would mean the end
of baseball as we know it.
So?
No, you keep on asking me,
and I keep on saying no.
No is no.
No, 1,000 times,
no, you can't play.
Sir, sir, my fiance
and her father
are sitting in the stands
today, and I promised them.
I said that if I
didn't do well today,
I'd quit the team
once and for all.
Quit the team?
You-- you-- you can't look
a gift horse in the mouth.
You can bat for Blake.
-What?
What a drag.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Barbara, what do you
see in this Casey anyway?
He's so loyal and
so trustworthy.
He's by best friend.
Why don't I just get you a dog?
Casey is easier
on the furniture.
Go, Casey!
Show 'em what you love.
He's holding the
bat upside down.
Yeah, he who laughs last
laughs best, Charlie.
[HECKLING]
Can we go now?
Shut up, frontal lobe.
The game ain't over
till the fat lady signs.
[WHOOSHING]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
NARRATOR: That home
run just a beginning.
Casey hit 20 home runs, and the
Hogs won their very first game.
Before long, the
players would improve.
The excitement would build, and
because of Casey, the Mudville
fans would come alive.
Aw, that crowd is jumping
up and down like a bunch
of kangaroos on a hot stove.
I'm beginning to think that
this stadium is worth a lot more
than $500, like, uh, $5,000.
But we had a deal.
Yeah, we had a deal,
and the next time
you call me a fat lady,
don't do it in my good ear.
Come on, drip dry.
That was some game,
wasn't it, Daisy?
It was kind of fun, wasn't it?
But why does that
guy wear a mask?
Oh, that's the catcher.
You know everything
about this game, Pop.
Oh, Daisy, you sure know how
to make an old man feel good.
NARRATOR: This was not just
the beginning for Casey
and the Mudville Hogs.
It was the beginning of
something much bigger,
modern baseball as
we know it today.
Casey, while not knowing much
about biology and trigonometry,
knew how to please a crowd.
And he was determined to convert
baseball from a poorer cousin
of badminton,
croquet, and tether
ball into the most popular
sport America has ever known.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
We are here in the home
ballpark of the Mudville Hogs,
who've suddenly come to
life, as you all now,
sparked by a new hero,
the name Casey Frank.
The Hogs about to take the
field for another big ball game
today.
With us, Casey Frank, himself,
and the interesting thing
about you, Casey, is
you came to us a grass
roots innocent, the very country
somehow embodied in your being.
Now suddenly sport can produce
this, an overnight hero.
Will you lose that innocence?
Well, Mr. Thayer,
I will never lose
my natural feeling
toward the game,
and I intend not to ever change.
I owe it to the country.
Hey, Case, what does it
feel like to hit a baseball?
That's something Joe never
experienced in his life.
Tell him.
Well, I'll tell you.
You feel it from the
bottom of your toes
to the tip of your fingers.
When that bat hits the ball,
it's like nothing else.
At the same time, you've got
to understand that in sport,
whether it's croquet, whether
it's tether ball, whatever,
badminton, fame is fleeting,
transitory, even as Keats
described beauty as being
transitory in "The Ode
to a Nightingale."
So suddenly you
could lose it all.
Are you worried about that?
Oh, no, sir, Mr. Thayer, I'm
not worried about anything.
I think you've got to
make the most of what you
are during the present time.
Excuse me, Mr. Undercrawl,
a telegram for you.
It's form the widow.
She wants $20,000!
Will there be
anything else, sir?
[GROWLING]
Get out.
Aw, Casey, please
don't make me wear this.
Now, look, Georgie.
You're not doing this for me.
You're doing this for
Mudville, for baseball.
Now, here, put your ears
on, OK, now the nose.
Boy, do I feel like a jerk.
Georgie, you look grand.
Now get over to those stands
and get that crowd going.
[LAUGHTER]
Go Mudville.
[LAUGHTER]
Give me an O. Give me an N.
Give me a K. What's that spell?
CROWD: Onk.
I, I.
Give me an O. Give
me an I. Give me an N.
Give me a K. What's that spell?
CROWD: Oink.
Go Hogs!
Oink, oink.
CROWD: Oink, oink, oink,
oink, oink, oink, oink,
oink, oink, oink, oink, oink.
-Telegram, sir.
-Give me that.
Good-- good news, I hope.
She wants $50,000!
I, uh, guess you won't be
needing me any more, sir.
All right, now, what
is this big idea, Casey?
Well, you know, I was thinking.
Some folks don't like
baseball because they
say it's too darn slow.
So you know what we need
to liven up the slow parts?
I'll give you a hint.
We all do it in church.
In church, uh, bingo?
No, music, this is Vilma
Harriot from the First
Mercantile Church of Mudville.
She's been kind enough
to bring the church
organ over for our game today.
Now, Vilma, let's say we've
got a big rally going.
What would you play
to stir up the crowd?
[PLAYING HYMN]
Well, gosh that's-- that's
beautiful and-- and everything,
but do you know something
a little jumpier, Vilma?
[PLAYING "AMAZING GRACE"]
[FLY BUZZING]
[PLAYING "CHARGE"]
CROWD: Charge.
That's more like it.
CROWD: Charge.
Charge.
Excuse me, sir, a,
uh, telegram for you.
I certainly hope it's,
uh, pleasant news.
She wants $100,000.
Don't move.
But-- but-- sir--
Why?
Why?
Strike 2.
That was a ball.
That was a strike.
-That was a ball.
-That was a strike.
-That was a ball.
-Strike.
Hold on, gents.
Just-- just hold on.
Now would you
please just hold on?
Hey, let me at him.
Charlie, can I borrow
that for a minute?
-Well, that's my lunch.
-Now, look.
Could you just please hold on?
Hold on, gents.
Now it seems to me that
we're always fighting
about balls and strikes.
That's because we've never had
anything to measure them by.
That's what we'll use this for.
That's a great
idea, Casey, but, uh,
what are we gonna call it?
Casey, that plate
belongs to my wife.
I brought it from home.
I've got it.
We'll call it
Charlie's wife's plate.
Fine, play ball.
Strike.
It was over the plate.
What are we gonna do now, sir?
Must I spoon feed you,
you mindless tangerine?
Only one thing stands between
me and this stadium-- baseball.
Therefore, I must
destroy baseball.
And how do I do that?
Start night games?
No, you turnip, by destroying
its best player, Casey Frank.
If I destroy Casey,
I destroy baseball,
and the stadium is mine.
Pardon me for saying so, sir.
Aren't you jumping to
a lot of conclusions?
I have to.
I'm a very busy man.
I got 8 hits, and I
got 14 runs batted in.
And then in the field,
I made no missed plays.
And they hit the ball
so high, Barbara.
It was-- I had to get under
it, and it was up there.
And I caught it before
it bounced and threw it--
Casey.
---to the fielder.
I'm worried.
Why?
Because you never talk about
anything anymore but baseball.
Oh.
Don't you ever think
about me anymore?
Oh, of course, I do,
Barbara, all the time.
You do?
Yes.
Then prove it.
Let's have a conversation about
something other than baseball.
OK.
All right, shall I commence?
Yes, I think you should.
OK.
Remember when we first met, and
we sat outside on the veranda?
Yeah, I knew you
were a home run
right off the bat, a
grand slam, over the fence
and into the stands.
And then you tried to kiss me.
Oh, my, well, I didn't know how
to get to first base with you.
Every time I got up--
I threw you a curve.
I was afraid to strike out.
I didn't know how
to score with you.
That's all behind us now.
Let's take a walk.
No, a pinch and a walk.
Excuse me.
Uh, Casey Frank is
here to see you, sir.
Ah, not a moment too
soon, well, send him in,
you spineless guttersnipe.
Mr. Undercrawl is at
the end of the table.
Aha, Mr. Frank, what a
pleasure this is for me.
I am a great fan of yours.
Have a cigar.
Well, any real
fan of mine would
know I don't smoke,
drink, use cuss words,
or snack between meals.
A thousand pardons,
no offense, Mr. Frank.
Step this way.
Step this way.
Please, please, have a seat.
Sit you down.
Rest you.
I, uh, I have a little
business proposition
to discuss with you.
You know, Mr. Frank,
you-- you really
make it look easy when
you step up to the plate
and hit out all those home runs.
I'm afraid it's having a bad
effect on the Mudville youth.
A bad effect, how?
Well, I'm afraid the little
boys and girls are going
to come to believe that
good things in life
come easily-- too easily,
if you catch my drift.
This could lead to degradation,
crime in the streets,
sloppy dressing.
Gosh, what can I do to help?
Start striking out.
What?
Start throwing all your games.
It's the only moral
thing you can do.
You must think I
was born yesterday.
No, not a bit, I mean, uh,
you're not even spitting.
You've got something
up your sleeve, mister,
and I don't mean your armpits.
Well, I ain't buying.
Hold on.
Wait a minute.
All right, how about this?
$100 for every time you
strike out, how's that?
You must be mad.
It will be a sad day in
America when a baseball
player can be swayed by money.
Gormless button hook.
So Casey Frank can't be bought.
Who cares?
So he says he has no vices.
So what?
There is one thing
he cannot resist.
What's that, Mr. Undercrawl?
Circe Lafemme.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
The greatest vamp on
the European continent,
I found her in the French army.
What was she doing
in the French army?
Dating it.
Bonjior, Monsieur Frank.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Are you talking to me, ma'am?
Oui, oui, I am,
uh, Nora Brown--
how you say-- the reporter.
I have come to do the
interview with you.
A reporter?
Wow, gosh, what for?
"Boys Life," thee
official magazine
for the Boy Scouts of America.
The scouts?
Well, I'd be privileged to do an
interview for the scouts' sake.
What would you like
to know, ma'am?
Ooh, um, uh, what's that?
Oh, that's my bat.
Of course, bat, batting
tips, uh, Monsieur Frank, um,
could you take me to the dugout?
Glad to oblige, ma'am.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Ooh, Monsieur Frank, you
have such large hands.
Oh, uh, they are just normal.
I, uh, use them to get
a firm grip on my bat.
Oh, but of course.
This is just not
like Casey, Daddy.
He's half an hour
late for dinner.
He's not exactly
a prodigy, Barbara.
Maybe he forgot what
the house looked like.
[CLICKING]
Uh-oh, it's a message.
Maybe it's from Casey.
I didn't know he could write.
"Dear Ms. Dent, if you
are concerned about Casey,
you must come to the Mudville
Stadium right away, signed,
a concerned friend."
Something terrible must
have happened to Casey.
Let's go.
-Can it wait till after dinner?
Daddy!
Ooh, Monsieur Frank, I am
such a silly, little weakling.
[GIGGLING]
Now put both hands
around the thin part.
Could you help me, please?
Certainly now hold onto
that, but not too tight.
Casey.
Barbara, hi.
I can explain everything.
Where's the rest of her dress?
This young lady is a
reporter for the Boy Scouts.
Casey, why don't you just tell
them, [FRENCH], that we are
madly and passionately in love.
Come on, Daddy.
Let's go.
I have to pick up an
application for a convent.
They're still accepting
people for the fall session.
Barbara, wait.
NARRATOR: That fateful, highly
improbable set of circumstances
marked the beginning of
a long downward spiral
for mighty Casey.
Heartbroken over losing
his precious Barbara,
he drowned his sorrows
doing the one thing
he pledged he would never do.
He snacked between meals.
VENDOR: Hot sausages, here you
go, hot sausage, hot sausage.
You want a hot sausage?
Sure, why not?
Here you go.
Whoa, whoa, that's hot.
It'll burn my hands.
You know, come to think of
it, a lot of my customers
have been complaining
about the same thing.
I got a good idea.
Do you have a piece of bread?
-Bread?
Yeah, sure.
Put it in there.
-Put it in-- that in there?
-Mm-hmm.
Hmm.
Mm, that's good.
Food is good.
It's well.
It stays with you.
Give me another one.
Another one?
NARRATOR: Regrettably,
like so many others
who have been unlucky in love,
Casey compensated for his loss
by stuffing his
face with hot dogs.
In no time at all,
the once trim Casey
turned into an unsightly
blimp, a barn, a dead ringer
for a pregnant Arctic walrus.
Soon he came to
the food stand even
while the game was in progress.
Boy, I gotta get a new
belt. This one's killing me.
Slap me a sausage, buddy.
Casey, shouldn't
you be on first base?
I can't play on
an empty stomach.
Can I have a lot
of mustard, please?
Sure.
Hey, hey, do you think
you can move your food
stand into the stadium?
Are you kidding?
Do you think people want to
eat these things in the middle
of a baseball game?
Whatever they
don't buy, I'll eat.
Oh, yeah?
[CROWD CHANTING CASEY]
Coming.
Coming.
That does it.
Casey is letting
these folks down.
They are baseball fans,
not whale watchers.
[BOOING]
Get your grilled puppies here.
Get you're grilled puppies here.
Here you go, sir.
You're gonna love that.
A little mustard, ketchup
on that, what do you like?
[BOOING]
[APPLAUSE]
Looks like an
inside-the-park home run.
[BOOING]
So upon that stricken
multitude grim melancholy sat.
It was clear to one and all that
Casey is getting pretty fat.
We've got to do
something about that boy,
before he turns into
a walking Oktoberfest.
You're not telling me anything
that I don't know, Pop.
I know that Casey has
turned into a cow,
a house, one big, blubbery globe
of a man, but what can I do?
He hurt me.
Barbara, let me
tell you a story.
Years ago, when I
was in high school,
I asked a girl named
Daisy Mopp to the prom.
Well, she said yes, but
then at the last minute,
she stood me up for the
captain of the badminton
team, Alph Bleacher.
You mean the widow Bleacher.
You got it, sweetie.
All these years, I've
been hurting inside,
carrying the torch for her.
After Alph died, Daisy kind of
shut herself away and started
knitting this big sock.
But then a few weeks ago,
I discovered something that
could bring her
out into the world,
maybe even bring
us together again.
But, Barbara, if
we lose Casey now,
I'm afraid baseball is
just going to go belly up.
And we can't let that happen.
Daisy hurt you,
and you forgave her.
I think you got my drift.
Will you help me?
Yes, yes, I will.
I'll help you, Pop.
But let's get down
to the stadium
right away, before Casey
starts grazing on the infield.
As soon as I have my tea.
Pop.
(SINGING) Mustard and
bananas and coleslaw and ham,
and lamb chops with cranberry
sauce and potatoes with
coleslaw and not
worse with cheese,
and pudding and cake and
frankfurters with beans,
and candies with lollipops.
Oh, look.
Uh-oh, it looks like a
severe case of pork shock.
He's overdosed on
grilled puppies.
Oh, Casey, I love you.
I love you, Casey.
Could you pass the
mustard, please?
Oh, Casey, I'm back.
I'm back.
Oh, Barbara, do you
have any pudding?
No, but I wish I did.
Will you cut the mush,
you two love doves?
We've gotta get el tubbo
here on the road to recovery.
Barb, I need
some-- some peanuts.
Get up, Casey, and I'll
give you everything you want.
Come on, Casey, try.
Come on, Casey.
We got him.
OK, walk.
Oh, jeez, you must
have put on 328 pounds.
NARRATOR: With Barbara's
love and Pop's faith,
Casey's discipline soared.
He was able to push the
food away, slim the pounds
down to a precious few.
With Barbara back in the stands,
life was a grand slam again.
Men, the widow has
named her final price
on the stadium-- $1 million.
Now I intend to get it.
I don't play to lose.
Sir, how-- how are you gonna
raise that kind of money?
Simple, bonehead,
I'm going to place
a huge bet with my
bookie, Mick the Geek,
on the championship game.
I am wagering my entire empire
on the Boston Bean Eaters.
But, sir, the Hogs
will beat the Boston
Bean Eaters because Casey--
I have considered our
friend, Casey Frank.
This is why I have put a
detective on his trail.
I found out something
very interesting.
It seems that Casey Frank meets
Pop Gumm before every game.
Gumm gives him
some kind of potion
in a small, brown bottle.
Then Casey puts the potion on
his bat while he's on deck.
It is my belief that without
Pop Gumm and his potion,
mighty Casey will strike out.
[EVIL LAUGHTER]
NARRATOR: The day of the big
championship game arrived.
Fans from miles around
poured into Mudville,
despite warnings that
there wasn't really
a clean restaurant in town.
They didn't care about that.
All they cared
about was baseball.
Uh, uh, Pop, excuse me
just for a second, Pop.
You know, Mr. Undercrawl
has this theory.
You know, I don't
quite agree with him.
It has to do with mud wrestling.
It's a particularly
interesting story.
Marty, we're gonna have to
delay the start of the game.
Have you flipped
your wig, Casey?
I mean, this crowd is
already out of control.
We can't start
without Pop Gumm.
Will you lighten up?
I know Pop Gumm is your pal,
but he doesn't have to be here.
-Oh, yes, he does.
-What is it?
Does he, uh, does he have
some kind of magic potion
he rubs on your bat
and you hit a home run?
No, no, no, nothing
like that, look, Marty.
Let me talk to the organist.
Maybe I can buy some time.
Vilma, Vilma, we've got to
delay the start of the game.
Do you know something that
can calm these people down?
[ORGAN PLAYING "THE STAR
SPANGLED BANNER"]
Mudville will lose the game.
The stadium will be ours, and
baseball will be destroyed.
You'll never get away
with this, Smiley.
Ha, they said I wouldn't
graduate from law school
either.
Well, the game is
about to begin,
and I don't want to miss a
single action-packed moment
of the last baseball
game in history.
Well, have a nice day.
[RHYTHMIC CLAPPING]
[ORGAN PLAYING "THE STAR
SPANGLED BANNER"]
Oh, Slider, boy, am
I glad to see you.
Go find Casey and
tell him I'm here.
[BARKING]
Yes, yes, I'll play
catch with you later.
Now go.
Come on, Casey.
We-- we can't delay
the game any longer.
We've been playing that
song 30 times already.
I mean, the people are starting
to make up their own lyrics.
Marty, we can't
start with withou--
[BARKING]
Slider.
[BARKING]
Slider, where's Pop?
What?
Pop's tied up in the woods?
And Gus Undercrawl is gonna
try to buy out the stadium?
Good boy.
Good vocabulary.
I'll be right back, Marty.
They smashed the bottle?
Don't worry, Casey.
I've got a fresh bottle at home.
Oh, Pop, I'm really
worried about this game.
So much is riding on it.
Will you relax, Casey?
What if we lose?
It ain't the end of the world.
People are gonna
lose their jobs.
Well, people will
lose their jobs.
-The stadium will be levelled.
-The stadium will be levelled.
Baseball will cease to exist.
Baseball will cease to exist?
We better win.
-We better win.
Pop, I'm gonna hit
the ball so hard.
I'm gonna hit it out of
sight, over the fence.
[CROWD CHANTING CASEY]
Well, I guess I
don't have any choice.
Casey or no Casey, we've
got to start the game.
[CHEERING]
I thought you said you got rid
of Pop Gumm and that bottle?
I thought I did.
If Casey's got that potion, the
Mudville nine is bound to win.
Hurry, call Mick the Geek.
Tell him I'm changing my bet.
I'm betting my entire
empire on the Mudville Hogs.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Did anybody see a-- a brown
bottle, a small-- a little,
small brown bottle
with a cork in it?
Well, it's the
ninth inning, Earn,
and Mudville is behind, 4 to 2.
With but one
inning left to play,
and then when Cooney died at
first and Barrows did the same,
a sickly silence fell upon
the patrons of the game.
Yeah, yeah, well, it
didn't look like we'd
see Casey Frank this inning.
NARRATOR: For Flynn preceded
Casey, as did Jimmy Blake.
The former was a lulu,
the latter was a cake.
Flynn let drive a single,
to the wonderment of all.
Blake, the much despised,
tore the cover off the ball.
And when the dust had
left it and the man
saw what had occurred, there
was Jimmy, safe at second,
and Flynn a-hugging third.
All right, Casey, you're up.
Uh, did anybody see
a-- a-- a brown bottle?
Did anybody see that?
Yeah, I hope you
don't mind, Casey,
but I-- I sort of drank it.
You what?
Georgie, didn't you know
what was in that bottle?
Well, it tasted a lot like
beer, but it was less filling.
Casey, you're up.
[CROWD CHANTING CASEY]
ANNOUNCER: And
Casey, mighty Casey,
is advancing to the plate.
Strike one.
Kill the umpire!
Daisy, calm down.
I own the stadium.
I can act like a
baby if I want to.
Strike two.
[BOOING]
Not my style.
NARRATOR: 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.
[GASPING]
[BOOING]
MAN: Casey struck out.
He struck out.
[BOOING]
I'm ruined.
My entire empire is lost.
NARRATOR: 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.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
You don't understand.
Boss Undercrawl wanted to
put you all out of work,
and he wanted to
destroy the stadium.
But first he needed
Casey to hit a home
run so he'd win a big bet.
Mudville lost, but baseball
won thanks to Casey!
[CHEERING]
[CHANTING CASEY]
Who's a little hydrant?
-I am.
-Who's a mindless tangerine?
-I am.
-And who's broke?
-We are.
-And whose fault is it?
-Mine.
-You little nimrod.
-Yes.
-You little bonehead.
I am, yes.
You subverbal crouton.
Yes.
You gelatinous, little
bonehead ding-dong.
Yes, yes.
-And whose fault is it?
-Mine.
That's right.
It's your fault.
So you see, Casey,
there was nothing
magical in that bottle at all,
but it gave you confidence.
And confidence is the
only magic you need to hit
the ball out of the park.
Without it, you strike out.
You mean all of this time he's
been putting beer on his bat?
Well, it wasn't just
an ordinary beer.
It's a brand-new kind
I've been brewing.
It's got a lot less
calories than normal beer.
Do you suppose
people will ever want
to buy something like that?
[MUSIC PLAYING]
And so thanks to Casey
Frank, modern baseball
and all its traditions
live on until this day.
Well, the rain has
stopped out there.
Let's play ball.
Huh?
Swing and a miss.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Gee, I wonder why they
never have to cut the grass.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig,
Willie Mays, Hank Aaron,
Reggie Jackson, Pete Rose,
and every kid from 7 to 70
knows their statistics
as well as their name.
May I have a hot one, please?
One hot one, coming
up, there you go.
-Thank you.
-You're welcome.
For if the game of baseball
is our national pastime,
the players of baseball are
surely our national heroes.
You tell 'em, Cheryl.
And there's no player more
famous than a slugger who
was created by a poetic sports
writer named Ernest Thayer, Jr.
The location was my Mudville.
The time was long ago.
The slugger's name was Casey.
We all know him as
Casey at the bat,
so I'll see you after the game.
[MUSIC - "BLUE SKIES"]
Well, for those of
you just tuning in,
the score is still tied,
4-4, and it doesn't look
like this rain is letting up.
But we got a beauty
going for ya, huh?
You are so obvious, Joe.
Yes, the tiny droplets
cascade to the Earth
in a symphony of wetness,
dampening our spirits
even as they dampen the turf.
Nothing like a rain delay to
get old motormouth going here.
Since we have a
little time here,
why don't we stop,
nay, pause-- nay, pause
did you get that,
Joe-- and tell the fans
a chapter from
baseball's great history.
This is a story,
Joe, about a man who
saved the great
game of baseball,
made it the sport we love today.
The man's name, Casey Frank.
Will you give me a break?
All right, we'll give you
a little Keats and Shelley.
The outlook wasn't brilliant
for the town of Mudville.
It was the long,
hot summer of 1888.
You were there.
NARRATOR: Mudville was like
any number of factory towns
in America that sprung
up like crab grass
after the Industrial Revolution.
Except in Mudville, they didn't
make steel or iron or tin.
They made mud.
They even had a mud museum.
The biggest factory in
town was Mudville Mudco.
They made mud chairs,
mud couches, mud lamps.
Everything for the modern
house could be made out of mud.
The man who ran the
company was a fellow
named Big Jim Undercrawl, or
as he was known to the town,
as Boss Undercrawl, or sometimes
Boss Big Jim Undercraw.
But despite his name,
he was not a kind man.
He was the sort of guy who
would sell his own mother
and charge extra for shipping.
Men, we're gonna change the
way we do business around here.
We're firing all the
workers at the factory,
and we're installing automated
mud-forging machines.
What do you think of that?
An excellent idea,
sir, an inspiration.
Can it, you toadying
little creep.
This brings me to
a little problem.
These machines let off an
unpleasant waste side effect,
a byproduct called sludge.
Now unlike the sludge that shows
up at a, uh, family reunion,
this stuff is hard
to get rid of.
So we're gonna need a dump site.
After considering
several of your homes,
I have decided on the
following alternative.
Smiley--
Oh, the White House, the EP--
The map!
The map, sir, the
map, the map, the map.
Out, get out of my way.
This is Mudville Stadium,
home of the Mudville Hogs,
the losingest baseball
team in the country.
The stadium is owned by the
widow Bleacher, who has agreed
to sell it to me for $500.
This will be no problem,
just as long as the old bat
doesn't die before then.
Any questions?
Well, yeah, yes,
excuse me, sir,
but the Mudville baseball
stadium is the only baseball
stadium on the planet.
That's where all the
teams go to play.
If you turn it
into a sludge dump,
where will people
go to play baseball?
Nowhere, that's where,
you hand-wringing turnip.
Nobody goes to
those games anyway,
except losers and
degenerates, and they
don't even brag about it.
Sir, I would-- I would--
Can it, you little hydrant.
You know what I
think about baseball?
I think baseball
should exist as a sleep
aid for the chronically awake.
Any fool that wants
to go around knocking
a strange, little, round
object with a long stick
ought to join a chain gang.
That's what I think.
What do you think?
-Chain gang.
Oh, chain gang, sir.
[AGREEING]
-All right, then it's settled.
We put our dump site here,
and baseball be damned.
NARRATOR: Baseball wasn't
only in its infancy.
It hadn't even been born yet.
You could hardly
call it baseball.
At this stage, whatever it
was, it was hard to like.
Look at those guys.
Oh, why, what a dumb sport.
Stay here, Slider.
So how come you're
here every day?
It's only because
my house burned down.
It was between this or sleeping
by the railroad tracks.
Tomorrow, I'm gonna
try the tracks.
Well, you just wait
and see, Charlie.
Baseball is a great game.
Someday, it's gonna be
the national pastime,
right, Slider?
[WOOF]
Come on, fellas.
Give 'em what for.
Smack that ball as
hard as you can.
Come on, guys.
Hit it in the sky,
over the fence.
bit
Hello again,
everyone, Ernie Thayer
on the Mudville
Telegraph Network.
And this is Joe
Thayer, Ern's color
man, bringing you exciting
Mudville Hogs baseball action.
Baseball fever, try it.
It's really not as
boring as it looks.
Well, the outlook isn't
brilliant for the Mudville nine
today.
The score stands 324 to 2, with
but one inning more to play.
Georgie, do you think Old Man
Williams will play me today?
I don't know, Casey.
He hasn't played you once
in the last three years,
but today's game is
a hopeless cause.
It could be your lucky break.
No, runner, that's bad.
That's bad.
-That's good, Casey.
-It is?
-Yeah.
-That's good.
Do it again, again.
Dog gone it all all.
I sure love this
darn sport, but I've
been sitting on a bench
for so long my fanny's got
permanent splinters.
If you want him to put
you in the game, Casey,
why don't you ask him?
Ask him?
That's a grand idea, Georgie.
You're a sweet kid.
They ought to name a
candy bar after you.
Right, like some people are
really gonna buy a candy bar
called Georgie Ruth.
Uh, excuse me, Mr. Williams.
Huh, what do you
want from me, bat boy?
I'm not the bat boy, sir.
I'm a player.
Oh, you want a promotion.
Is that it, huh?
You want to go from bat boy to
player, just like that, huh?
I already am a player, sir.
I'm a first baseman.
Oh, no.
No, no, no, no,
what's-his-name's on first.
Who's on first?
Don't you start that with me.
Uh, Mr. Williams, I just want
to know if I can play today.
Oh, what's the score?
Well, it's 324 to 2, sir.
No, the score is too close.
I can't take the rest.
All right, you
guys, let's get out
there, and show me your stuff.
Let's go.
Let's go.
Let's go.
Baseball is gonna
be big, Charlie.
You know who's gonna
make it happen?
Casey Frank, he's
gonna make baseball
into a national pastime.
All he needs is some confidence.
Slider, we've got our
work cut out for us.
[WOOF]
That's right.
NARRATOR: So after another
discouraging day at the ball
park, Casey went to
dinner at the home
of Barbara Dent, his fiance.
Barbara was the girl
next door, a kind
soul who worked hard to
support herself as a typist.
Unfortunately, the typewriter
had not yet been invented,
so Barbara suffered long
periods of unemployment.
BARBARA'S FATHER: Barbara--
Daddy is really looking
forward to seeing you, Casey.
BARBARA'S FATHER: When is
that good-for-nothing oaf
getting here, anyway?
Casey's here, Dad.
Oh, darn, thought he might
have gotten hit by a milk truck.
Don't mind my father, Casey.
He-- he's never quite himself
until he's had a nice bath.
He-- he's had a hard
day at the mud factory.
Ah, all cleaned up.
Did you have a good
day at work, sir?
What would you know about work?
You ain't never done an honest
day's work in your life.
Hi, Daddy.
Oh, hi, honey.
Hi.
You look so clean.
Oh, thank you, honey.
I am a foreman at the mud plant.
Why don't you come down and
let me give you a job there?
Or are you afraid to get down
and dirty with the big boys?
Casey is not afraid
of anything, Dad.
You know, the nice thing
about mud work, pal,
is that you're never gonna
be replaced by a machine.
I don't want to work
at the factory, sir.
I'm a baseball player.
You are?
Well, they never let you play.
Still, I love the concept.
Uh, Barbara, what--
what-- whatever happen
to that nice, uh,
dentist you were going
out with, uh, Billy Gumball.
I used to like him.
You remember, Daddy,
that he moved to Nevada
and was caught strangling a cow.
He's in jail now.
Hmm, still, he--
he was a nice boy.
Mr. Dent, why don't
you come out to the game
tomorrow with Barbara?
If I'm no good,
I'll quit baseball
and start a career in mud.
But if I do well, you've got
to let me marry your daughter.
Now that's a proposition
that interests me.
It's very dramatic.
Come on, you pinhead.
Let's go see the widow Belcher.
-Bleacher.
-It's my town.
I can pronounce their
names any way I want.
Pen.
-Pen.
-Paper.
-Paper.
-Water.
-Water.
Pacific red snapper.
Pacific red snapper, uh,
sir, what do you want to be
a Pacific red snapper for?
I don't, you
antediluvian doorknob.
I'm just exercising
my power randomly.
(SINGING) Yes, my
darling, you will be
always younger and fair to me.
Mrs. Bleacher, how
good to see you.
Uh-huh.
My, that's a lovely
sweater you're knitting.
Yeah, it's not a
sweater, you bozo.
It's a sock.
Hmm, you must have been
working on that a long time.
Ah, 17 years, since
my husband died,
I haven't had too many hobbies.
Ah, well.
Yeah, all you can
do at my age is
make socks, revise your will,
and keep track of your teeth.
Keep track your teeth.
[LAUGHTER]
Sir, I know I asked you
yesterday if I could play,
and you said, no.
But today is different.
Today, I am offering to pay you.
Oh, Casey, Casey Frank.
How do you know my name?
I've been watching you, boy.
I'm a big fan of yours.
Sure, what sport, sitting?
Look, let me
introduce myself, huh?
My name is Gumm, Pop Gumm.
Hi, Pop.
Casey, I think you could be the
biggest baseball player ever.
Thanks, Pop, but
what am I doing wrong?
Well, let me give you a
couple of batting tips.
Why don't you try holding
that bat upside down?
You mean by the thin part?
That's right, by the handle.
That'll never work.
Do you want to be
a legend or not?
Now listen.
This is a magic potion kind of
thing, my own special recipe.
I'll bring it to you
before every game.
You just rub it on your
bat, and every ball you hit
will be a home run.
Get out.
Stop being so
negative, you big lug.
Think positive.
With this potion on your
bat, step up to the plate.
You relax.
You take your swing,
and it's in the seats.
Do you know something?
It's crazy, but it
just might work.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Oh, Barbara, mighty
pretty dress, dear.
Ah, widow Bleacher, would
you mind signing the paper?
I give you the $500 and
take charge of the stadium.
Daisy, you can't
sell the stadium.
That would mean the end
of baseball as we know it.
So?
No, you keep on asking me,
and I keep on saying no.
No is no.
No, 1,000 times,
no, you can't play.
Sir, sir, my fiance
and her father
are sitting in the stands
today, and I promised them.
I said that if I
didn't do well today,
I'd quit the team
once and for all.
Quit the team?
You-- you-- you can't look
a gift horse in the mouth.
You can bat for Blake.
-What?
What a drag.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Barbara, what do you
see in this Casey anyway?
He's so loyal and
so trustworthy.
He's by best friend.
Why don't I just get you a dog?
Casey is easier
on the furniture.
Go, Casey!
Show 'em what you love.
He's holding the
bat upside down.
Yeah, he who laughs last
laughs best, Charlie.
[HECKLING]
Can we go now?
Shut up, frontal lobe.
The game ain't over
till the fat lady signs.
[WHOOSHING]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
NARRATOR: That home
run just a beginning.
Casey hit 20 home runs, and the
Hogs won their very first game.
Before long, the
players would improve.
The excitement would build, and
because of Casey, the Mudville
fans would come alive.
Aw, that crowd is jumping
up and down like a bunch
of kangaroos on a hot stove.
I'm beginning to think that
this stadium is worth a lot more
than $500, like, uh, $5,000.
But we had a deal.
Yeah, we had a deal,
and the next time
you call me a fat lady,
don't do it in my good ear.
Come on, drip dry.
That was some game,
wasn't it, Daisy?
It was kind of fun, wasn't it?
But why does that
guy wear a mask?
Oh, that's the catcher.
You know everything
about this game, Pop.
Oh, Daisy, you sure know how
to make an old man feel good.
NARRATOR: This was not just
the beginning for Casey
and the Mudville Hogs.
It was the beginning of
something much bigger,
modern baseball as
we know it today.
Casey, while not knowing much
about biology and trigonometry,
knew how to please a crowd.
And he was determined to convert
baseball from a poorer cousin
of badminton,
croquet, and tether
ball into the most popular
sport America has ever known.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
We are here in the home
ballpark of the Mudville Hogs,
who've suddenly come to
life, as you all now,
sparked by a new hero,
the name Casey Frank.
The Hogs about to take the
field for another big ball game
today.
With us, Casey Frank, himself,
and the interesting thing
about you, Casey, is
you came to us a grass
roots innocent, the very country
somehow embodied in your being.
Now suddenly sport can produce
this, an overnight hero.
Will you lose that innocence?
Well, Mr. Thayer,
I will never lose
my natural feeling
toward the game,
and I intend not to ever change.
I owe it to the country.
Hey, Case, what does it
feel like to hit a baseball?
That's something Joe never
experienced in his life.
Tell him.
Well, I'll tell you.
You feel it from the
bottom of your toes
to the tip of your fingers.
When that bat hits the ball,
it's like nothing else.
At the same time, you've got
to understand that in sport,
whether it's croquet, whether
it's tether ball, whatever,
badminton, fame is fleeting,
transitory, even as Keats
described beauty as being
transitory in "The Ode
to a Nightingale."
So suddenly you
could lose it all.
Are you worried about that?
Oh, no, sir, Mr. Thayer, I'm
not worried about anything.
I think you've got to
make the most of what you
are during the present time.
Excuse me, Mr. Undercrawl,
a telegram for you.
It's form the widow.
She wants $20,000!
Will there be
anything else, sir?
[GROWLING]
Get out.
Aw, Casey, please
don't make me wear this.
Now, look, Georgie.
You're not doing this for me.
You're doing this for
Mudville, for baseball.
Now, here, put your ears
on, OK, now the nose.
Boy, do I feel like a jerk.
Georgie, you look grand.
Now get over to those stands
and get that crowd going.
[LAUGHTER]
Go Mudville.
[LAUGHTER]
Give me an O. Give me an N.
Give me a K. What's that spell?
CROWD: Onk.
I, I.
Give me an O. Give
me an I. Give me an N.
Give me a K. What's that spell?
CROWD: Oink.
Go Hogs!
Oink, oink.
CROWD: Oink, oink, oink,
oink, oink, oink, oink,
oink, oink, oink, oink, oink.
-Telegram, sir.
-Give me that.
Good-- good news, I hope.
She wants $50,000!
I, uh, guess you won't be
needing me any more, sir.
All right, now, what
is this big idea, Casey?
Well, you know, I was thinking.
Some folks don't like
baseball because they
say it's too darn slow.
So you know what we need
to liven up the slow parts?
I'll give you a hint.
We all do it in church.
In church, uh, bingo?
No, music, this is Vilma
Harriot from the First
Mercantile Church of Mudville.
She's been kind enough
to bring the church
organ over for our game today.
Now, Vilma, let's say we've
got a big rally going.
What would you play
to stir up the crowd?
[PLAYING HYMN]
Well, gosh that's-- that's
beautiful and-- and everything,
but do you know something
a little jumpier, Vilma?
[PLAYING "AMAZING GRACE"]
[FLY BUZZING]
[PLAYING "CHARGE"]
CROWD: Charge.
That's more like it.
CROWD: Charge.
Charge.
Excuse me, sir, a,
uh, telegram for you.
I certainly hope it's,
uh, pleasant news.
She wants $100,000.
Don't move.
But-- but-- sir--
Why?
Why?
Strike 2.
That was a ball.
That was a strike.
-That was a ball.
-That was a strike.
-That was a ball.
-Strike.
Hold on, gents.
Just-- just hold on.
Now would you
please just hold on?
Hey, let me at him.
Charlie, can I borrow
that for a minute?
-Well, that's my lunch.
-Now, look.
Could you just please hold on?
Hold on, gents.
Now it seems to me that
we're always fighting
about balls and strikes.
That's because we've never had
anything to measure them by.
That's what we'll use this for.
That's a great
idea, Casey, but, uh,
what are we gonna call it?
Casey, that plate
belongs to my wife.
I brought it from home.
I've got it.
We'll call it
Charlie's wife's plate.
Fine, play ball.
Strike.
It was over the plate.
What are we gonna do now, sir?
Must I spoon feed you,
you mindless tangerine?
Only one thing stands between
me and this stadium-- baseball.
Therefore, I must
destroy baseball.
And how do I do that?
Start night games?
No, you turnip, by destroying
its best player, Casey Frank.
If I destroy Casey,
I destroy baseball,
and the stadium is mine.
Pardon me for saying so, sir.
Aren't you jumping to
a lot of conclusions?
I have to.
I'm a very busy man.
I got 8 hits, and I
got 14 runs batted in.
And then in the field,
I made no missed plays.
And they hit the ball
so high, Barbara.
It was-- I had to get under
it, and it was up there.
And I caught it before
it bounced and threw it--
Casey.
---to the fielder.
I'm worried.
Why?
Because you never talk about
anything anymore but baseball.
Oh.
Don't you ever think
about me anymore?
Oh, of course, I do,
Barbara, all the time.
You do?
Yes.
Then prove it.
Let's have a conversation about
something other than baseball.
OK.
All right, shall I commence?
Yes, I think you should.
OK.
Remember when we first met, and
we sat outside on the veranda?
Yeah, I knew you
were a home run
right off the bat, a
grand slam, over the fence
and into the stands.
And then you tried to kiss me.
Oh, my, well, I didn't know how
to get to first base with you.
Every time I got up--
I threw you a curve.
I was afraid to strike out.
I didn't know how
to score with you.
That's all behind us now.
Let's take a walk.
No, a pinch and a walk.
Excuse me.
Uh, Casey Frank is
here to see you, sir.
Ah, not a moment too
soon, well, send him in,
you spineless guttersnipe.
Mr. Undercrawl is at
the end of the table.
Aha, Mr. Frank, what a
pleasure this is for me.
I am a great fan of yours.
Have a cigar.
Well, any real
fan of mine would
know I don't smoke,
drink, use cuss words,
or snack between meals.
A thousand pardons,
no offense, Mr. Frank.
Step this way.
Step this way.
Please, please, have a seat.
Sit you down.
Rest you.
I, uh, I have a little
business proposition
to discuss with you.
You know, Mr. Frank,
you-- you really
make it look easy when
you step up to the plate
and hit out all those home runs.
I'm afraid it's having a bad
effect on the Mudville youth.
A bad effect, how?
Well, I'm afraid the little
boys and girls are going
to come to believe that
good things in life
come easily-- too easily,
if you catch my drift.
This could lead to degradation,
crime in the streets,
sloppy dressing.
Gosh, what can I do to help?
Start striking out.
What?
Start throwing all your games.
It's the only moral
thing you can do.
You must think I
was born yesterday.
No, not a bit, I mean, uh,
you're not even spitting.
You've got something
up your sleeve, mister,
and I don't mean your armpits.
Well, I ain't buying.
Hold on.
Wait a minute.
All right, how about this?
$100 for every time you
strike out, how's that?
You must be mad.
It will be a sad day in
America when a baseball
player can be swayed by money.
Gormless button hook.
So Casey Frank can't be bought.
Who cares?
So he says he has no vices.
So what?
There is one thing
he cannot resist.
What's that, Mr. Undercrawl?
Circe Lafemme.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
The greatest vamp on
the European continent,
I found her in the French army.
What was she doing
in the French army?
Dating it.
Bonjior, Monsieur Frank.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Are you talking to me, ma'am?
Oui, oui, I am,
uh, Nora Brown--
how you say-- the reporter.
I have come to do the
interview with you.
A reporter?
Wow, gosh, what for?
"Boys Life," thee
official magazine
for the Boy Scouts of America.
The scouts?
Well, I'd be privileged to do an
interview for the scouts' sake.
What would you like
to know, ma'am?
Ooh, um, uh, what's that?
Oh, that's my bat.
Of course, bat, batting
tips, uh, Monsieur Frank, um,
could you take me to the dugout?
Glad to oblige, ma'am.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Ooh, Monsieur Frank, you
have such large hands.
Oh, uh, they are just normal.
I, uh, use them to get
a firm grip on my bat.
Oh, but of course.
This is just not
like Casey, Daddy.
He's half an hour
late for dinner.
He's not exactly
a prodigy, Barbara.
Maybe he forgot what
the house looked like.
[CLICKING]
Uh-oh, it's a message.
Maybe it's from Casey.
I didn't know he could write.
"Dear Ms. Dent, if you
are concerned about Casey,
you must come to the Mudville
Stadium right away, signed,
a concerned friend."
Something terrible must
have happened to Casey.
Let's go.
-Can it wait till after dinner?
Daddy!
Ooh, Monsieur Frank, I am
such a silly, little weakling.
[GIGGLING]
Now put both hands
around the thin part.
Could you help me, please?
Certainly now hold onto
that, but not too tight.
Casey.
Barbara, hi.
I can explain everything.
Where's the rest of her dress?
This young lady is a
reporter for the Boy Scouts.
Casey, why don't you just tell
them, [FRENCH], that we are
madly and passionately in love.
Come on, Daddy.
Let's go.
I have to pick up an
application for a convent.
They're still accepting
people for the fall session.
Barbara, wait.
NARRATOR: That fateful, highly
improbable set of circumstances
marked the beginning of
a long downward spiral
for mighty Casey.
Heartbroken over losing
his precious Barbara,
he drowned his sorrows
doing the one thing
he pledged he would never do.
He snacked between meals.
VENDOR: Hot sausages, here you
go, hot sausage, hot sausage.
You want a hot sausage?
Sure, why not?
Here you go.
Whoa, whoa, that's hot.
It'll burn my hands.
You know, come to think of
it, a lot of my customers
have been complaining
about the same thing.
I got a good idea.
Do you have a piece of bread?
-Bread?
Yeah, sure.
Put it in there.
-Put it in-- that in there?
-Mm-hmm.
Hmm.
Mm, that's good.
Food is good.
It's well.
It stays with you.
Give me another one.
Another one?
NARRATOR: Regrettably,
like so many others
who have been unlucky in love,
Casey compensated for his loss
by stuffing his
face with hot dogs.
In no time at all,
the once trim Casey
turned into an unsightly
blimp, a barn, a dead ringer
for a pregnant Arctic walrus.
Soon he came to
the food stand even
while the game was in progress.
Boy, I gotta get a new
belt. This one's killing me.
Slap me a sausage, buddy.
Casey, shouldn't
you be on first base?
I can't play on
an empty stomach.
Can I have a lot
of mustard, please?
Sure.
Hey, hey, do you think
you can move your food
stand into the stadium?
Are you kidding?
Do you think people want to
eat these things in the middle
of a baseball game?
Whatever they
don't buy, I'll eat.
Oh, yeah?
[CROWD CHANTING CASEY]
Coming.
Coming.
That does it.
Casey is letting
these folks down.
They are baseball fans,
not whale watchers.
[BOOING]
Get your grilled puppies here.
Get you're grilled puppies here.
Here you go, sir.
You're gonna love that.
A little mustard, ketchup
on that, what do you like?
[BOOING]
[APPLAUSE]
Looks like an
inside-the-park home run.
[BOOING]
So upon that stricken
multitude grim melancholy sat.
It was clear to one and all that
Casey is getting pretty fat.
We've got to do
something about that boy,
before he turns into
a walking Oktoberfest.
You're not telling me anything
that I don't know, Pop.
I know that Casey has
turned into a cow,
a house, one big, blubbery globe
of a man, but what can I do?
He hurt me.
Barbara, let me
tell you a story.
Years ago, when I
was in high school,
I asked a girl named
Daisy Mopp to the prom.
Well, she said yes, but
then at the last minute,
she stood me up for the
captain of the badminton
team, Alph Bleacher.
You mean the widow Bleacher.
You got it, sweetie.
All these years, I've
been hurting inside,
carrying the torch for her.
After Alph died, Daisy kind of
shut herself away and started
knitting this big sock.
But then a few weeks ago,
I discovered something that
could bring her
out into the world,
maybe even bring
us together again.
But, Barbara, if
we lose Casey now,
I'm afraid baseball is
just going to go belly up.
And we can't let that happen.
Daisy hurt you,
and you forgave her.
I think you got my drift.
Will you help me?
Yes, yes, I will.
I'll help you, Pop.
But let's get down
to the stadium
right away, before Casey
starts grazing on the infield.
As soon as I have my tea.
Pop.
(SINGING) Mustard and
bananas and coleslaw and ham,
and lamb chops with cranberry
sauce and potatoes with
coleslaw and not
worse with cheese,
and pudding and cake and
frankfurters with beans,
and candies with lollipops.
Oh, look.
Uh-oh, it looks like a
severe case of pork shock.
He's overdosed on
grilled puppies.
Oh, Casey, I love you.
I love you, Casey.
Could you pass the
mustard, please?
Oh, Casey, I'm back.
I'm back.
Oh, Barbara, do you
have any pudding?
No, but I wish I did.
Will you cut the mush,
you two love doves?
We've gotta get el tubbo
here on the road to recovery.
Barb, I need
some-- some peanuts.
Get up, Casey, and I'll
give you everything you want.
Come on, Casey, try.
Come on, Casey.
We got him.
OK, walk.
Oh, jeez, you must
have put on 328 pounds.
NARRATOR: With Barbara's
love and Pop's faith,
Casey's discipline soared.
He was able to push the
food away, slim the pounds
down to a precious few.
With Barbara back in the stands,
life was a grand slam again.
Men, the widow has
named her final price
on the stadium-- $1 million.
Now I intend to get it.
I don't play to lose.
Sir, how-- how are you gonna
raise that kind of money?
Simple, bonehead,
I'm going to place
a huge bet with my
bookie, Mick the Geek,
on the championship game.
I am wagering my entire empire
on the Boston Bean Eaters.
But, sir, the Hogs
will beat the Boston
Bean Eaters because Casey--
I have considered our
friend, Casey Frank.
This is why I have put a
detective on his trail.
I found out something
very interesting.
It seems that Casey Frank meets
Pop Gumm before every game.
Gumm gives him
some kind of potion
in a small, brown bottle.
Then Casey puts the potion on
his bat while he's on deck.
It is my belief that without
Pop Gumm and his potion,
mighty Casey will strike out.
[EVIL LAUGHTER]
NARRATOR: The day of the big
championship game arrived.
Fans from miles around
poured into Mudville,
despite warnings that
there wasn't really
a clean restaurant in town.
They didn't care about that.
All they cared
about was baseball.
Uh, uh, Pop, excuse me
just for a second, Pop.
You know, Mr. Undercrawl
has this theory.
You know, I don't
quite agree with him.
It has to do with mud wrestling.
It's a particularly
interesting story.
Marty, we're gonna have to
delay the start of the game.
Have you flipped
your wig, Casey?
I mean, this crowd is
already out of control.
We can't start
without Pop Gumm.
Will you lighten up?
I know Pop Gumm is your pal,
but he doesn't have to be here.
-Oh, yes, he does.
-What is it?
Does he, uh, does he have
some kind of magic potion
he rubs on your bat
and you hit a home run?
No, no, no, nothing
like that, look, Marty.
Let me talk to the organist.
Maybe I can buy some time.
Vilma, Vilma, we've got to
delay the start of the game.
Do you know something that
can calm these people down?
[ORGAN PLAYING "THE STAR
SPANGLED BANNER"]
Mudville will lose the game.
The stadium will be ours, and
baseball will be destroyed.
You'll never get away
with this, Smiley.
Ha, they said I wouldn't
graduate from law school
either.
Well, the game is
about to begin,
and I don't want to miss a
single action-packed moment
of the last baseball
game in history.
Well, have a nice day.
[RHYTHMIC CLAPPING]
[ORGAN PLAYING "THE STAR
SPANGLED BANNER"]
Oh, Slider, boy, am
I glad to see you.
Go find Casey and
tell him I'm here.
[BARKING]
Yes, yes, I'll play
catch with you later.
Now go.
Come on, Casey.
We-- we can't delay
the game any longer.
We've been playing that
song 30 times already.
I mean, the people are starting
to make up their own lyrics.
Marty, we can't
start with withou--
[BARKING]
Slider.
[BARKING]
Slider, where's Pop?
What?
Pop's tied up in the woods?
And Gus Undercrawl is gonna
try to buy out the stadium?
Good boy.
Good vocabulary.
I'll be right back, Marty.
They smashed the bottle?
Don't worry, Casey.
I've got a fresh bottle at home.
Oh, Pop, I'm really
worried about this game.
So much is riding on it.
Will you relax, Casey?
What if we lose?
It ain't the end of the world.
People are gonna
lose their jobs.
Well, people will
lose their jobs.
-The stadium will be levelled.
-The stadium will be levelled.
Baseball will cease to exist.
Baseball will cease to exist?
We better win.
-We better win.
Pop, I'm gonna hit
the ball so hard.
I'm gonna hit it out of
sight, over the fence.
[CROWD CHANTING CASEY]
Well, I guess I
don't have any choice.
Casey or no Casey, we've
got to start the game.
[CHEERING]
I thought you said you got rid
of Pop Gumm and that bottle?
I thought I did.
If Casey's got that potion, the
Mudville nine is bound to win.
Hurry, call Mick the Geek.
Tell him I'm changing my bet.
I'm betting my entire
empire on the Mudville Hogs.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Did anybody see a-- a brown
bottle, a small-- a little,
small brown bottle
with a cork in it?
Well, it's the
ninth inning, Earn,
and Mudville is behind, 4 to 2.
With but one
inning left to play,
and then when Cooney died at
first and Barrows did the same,
a sickly silence fell upon
the patrons of the game.
Yeah, yeah, well, it
didn't look like we'd
see Casey Frank this inning.
NARRATOR: For Flynn preceded
Casey, as did Jimmy Blake.
The former was a lulu,
the latter was a cake.
Flynn let drive a single,
to the wonderment of all.
Blake, the much despised,
tore the cover off the ball.
And when the dust had
left it and the man
saw what had occurred, there
was Jimmy, safe at second,
and Flynn a-hugging third.
All right, Casey, you're up.
Uh, did anybody see
a-- a-- a brown bottle?
Did anybody see that?
Yeah, I hope you
don't mind, Casey,
but I-- I sort of drank it.
You what?
Georgie, didn't you know
what was in that bottle?
Well, it tasted a lot like
beer, but it was less filling.
Casey, you're up.
[CROWD CHANTING CASEY]
ANNOUNCER: And
Casey, mighty Casey,
is advancing to the plate.
Strike one.
Kill the umpire!
Daisy, calm down.
I own the stadium.
I can act like a
baby if I want to.
Strike two.
[BOOING]
Not my style.
NARRATOR: 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.
[GASPING]
[BOOING]
MAN: Casey struck out.
He struck out.
[BOOING]
I'm ruined.
My entire empire is lost.
NARRATOR: 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.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
You don't understand.
Boss Undercrawl wanted to
put you all out of work,
and he wanted to
destroy the stadium.
But first he needed
Casey to hit a home
run so he'd win a big bet.
Mudville lost, but baseball
won thanks to Casey!
[CHEERING]
[CHANTING CASEY]
Who's a little hydrant?
-I am.
-Who's a mindless tangerine?
-I am.
-And who's broke?
-We are.
-And whose fault is it?
-Mine.
-You little nimrod.
-Yes.
-You little bonehead.
I am, yes.
You subverbal crouton.
Yes.
You gelatinous, little
bonehead ding-dong.
Yes, yes.
-And whose fault is it?
-Mine.
That's right.
It's your fault.
So you see, Casey,
there was nothing
magical in that bottle at all,
but it gave you confidence.
And confidence is the
only magic you need to hit
the ball out of the park.
Without it, you strike out.
You mean all of this time he's
been putting beer on his bat?
Well, it wasn't just
an ordinary beer.
It's a brand-new kind
I've been brewing.
It's got a lot less
calories than normal beer.
Do you suppose
people will ever want
to buy something like that?
[MUSIC PLAYING]
And so thanks to Casey
Frank, modern baseball
and all its traditions
live on until this day.
Well, the rain has
stopped out there.
Let's play ball.
Huh?
Swing and a miss.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Gee, I wonder why they
never have to cut the grass.
[MUSIC PLAYING]