Obama at the Bat (Satire)

The economic outlook seemed grim for the U.S. on that day:

Its debt was $16.5 trillion and much more was on the way.

Energy independence was a distant dream; unemployment seemed so stuck

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And the whing of printing presses made it look bad for the buck.

A minority of fans stood to walk out or merely boo.

But most—about 52 percent—knew their dreams would soon come true.

Cause Obama was their hero. Yes, they had no doubt of that,

And they thought that all would be real well with Obama at the bat.

 

Yes. If only mighty Obama could get up to that plate,

though bottom of the ninth they knew it was not yet too late.

And then to their joy Kerry was confirmed; Brennan and Hagel, too.

The bases were thus loaded and their fondest wish came true!

 

Then from many million throats came an impassioned shout.

Yes, with Obama’s second at-bat of success there was no doubt.

True, he’d struck out the first time but he would be more firm,

now that they’d given him another, second, term.

Also he had practiced hard, played golf almost every day,

not just taking endless vacations as his snarling critics say,

He knew that in this showdown he could not meet defeat,

And he’d even honed his baseball skills by shooting at the skeet.

 

So with Kerry standing astride third,

whose arrogance knew no end.

Brennan cool and on second,

explained the Islamist is our friend.

As for Hagel close to first,

he was having lots of fun.

though rather puzzled on which direction he should run.

It could be that this quartet held ideas completely wrong,

though often it also seemed they didn’t know to whose team they belonged.

 

Obama looked oh so relaxed as he stepped up to the plate,

and remarked to the adoring crowd that he would save the state.

Every eye was on him as he patiently exclaimed

that if they wanted to cut spending they should be thoroughly ashamed.

For any wealth that was withheld from the federal government’s palm,

would be like hitting America with a thermonuclear bomb.

Yes, the teachers would be unemployed and the firemen, too.

The country would be down the drain but he knew what to do!

 

But while Obama explained how the government must spend more,

plus additional trillions in tribute to the wisdom of Al Gore,

and how raising taxes and discomfiting the rich was fun,

the pitcher threw a fast ball and the umpire yelled:

STRIKE ONE!

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Defiance glowed in Obama’s eye and a sneer curled on his lip,

He knew the other side could never win because he was too hip.

They could not party with rock stars or hang out in Hollywood.

And any president who couldn’t do that must not be any good.

Unemployment and the debt, he told the fans, were clearly in decline,

In fact he told the fans that all was going really fine.

 

But no sooner had he spoken than the pitcher threw the sphere.

Obama knew he was the smartest of all and thus he had no fear.

Yet only from the hard facts did the umpire take his clue

and so he had no choice at all but to bellow out:

STRIKE TWO!

 

The jobs they kept on fleeing far away to overseas.

It was harder not to notice the economy was on its knees.

Yet Obama stared at the other team, his eyes were full of hate.

He taunted at the pitcher: “Just put it slow over the plate,

so I can get a fair shot and oh, by the way,

this playing field’s uneven or we’d already have won today.”

 

But the pitcher was not Republican but cruel Reality

And it coincided not at all with Obama’s philosophy.

No, Reality was not racist or greedy or right-wing,

It just saw no need at all to give away anything.

And as the ball flew from its hand Obama took a wimpy swing!

 

Oh somewhere in the world today unindoctrinated children have fun,

Somewhere people are working, somewhere an economy does run;

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Somewhere there is freedom; somewhere no nanny state,

and somewhere there are entrepreneurs who can still innovate.

Somewhere there’s is also private health insurance, no doubt,

But there is no joy in USville ,

Mighty Obama has bankrupted out.

 

With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer and his “Casey at the Bat”

 

 



        

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