September 5, 1876: “The Poet of the Game.”, by James M. Fox, published in the Milwaukee Daily Sentinel
A short time ago the Sentinel casually mentioned that the poet of the national game hadn’t appeared. Yesterday, James F. Fox, of Brookfield, Wis., sent in his claim for that proud distinction. It will be seen that Mr. Fox is no narrow-gauge poet, but one who does not restrict himself to the ordinary rules by which Tennyson, Longfellow, and that sort, are guided:
Oh, the national game of American boys,
Is the one that brings to them the greatest of
joys;
With their whole heart and soul they go into the
play,
And in handling the ball they make little delay.
As together they come and prepare for the fight,
Not of hatred and vengeance but one of delight,
And as quickly the ball ’round the field they
make fly,
For the practice upon which so much they rely.
When the umpire calls play,—the game to begin,
And each player by doing his best seeks to win,
The interest of all who look on does increase,
And but seldom before comes the end does it
cease.
If the man at the bat strikes the ball towards
the sky,
He invariably almost goes out on the fly;
If he makes a “base hit” ’tis considered well
done;
And he then does his best to get in one more run.
Although all are quite anxious their favorites
hall beat,
With loud cheers of applause ev’ry good play
they greet;
And the heroes to show that they wish for no
more,
At each innings endeavor to add to their score.
We have cause to be proud of our national game!
And the boys who while at it win honor and
fame;
There are numerous games, but the best of them
all
To give pleasure and health, is the game of base-
Ball.