August 20, 2005, Family Picnic

& T-Bones Game                                                                            

Chorus: I want to go to the ball game,
I'm the fall dame for a ball game.
I like to get the crowd going,
And root and hoot and shout.
I want to go to the pastime,
Have a fast time, like the last time.
And yell "Swat a single, two sacker or bengle."

(What the heck's a bengle?????!!!)
But don't fan out.

As part of the plant's year-long celebration, active and retired employees and their families enjoyed a fun-filled, weather-perfect evening with the T-Bones independent professional baseball team at the Community America Ballpark in Kansas City, KS.  The T-Bones played against the Northern League's Gary, IN, Southshore Railcats that evening.

Before the game, Famous Dave's BBQ catered a picnic for the 410 P&Gers who attended.  To begin the game, plant manager Jaime Montoya threw out the first pitch.  P&Gers were chosen for between-innings events and games, with prizes awarded to the winners.  Members of the 100-year celebration planning Team were invited onto the field to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the 7th-inning stretch.

Each of the kids received souvenir bats, the adults received Thundersticks, and the T-Bones players signed a bat and 4 balls for the plant, which will be used as prizes in our 2005 United Way raffle.

The crowd was further entertained by the Railcats' wild-and-crazy mascor, Birdzerk, and the T-Bones' mascot, Sizzle.  (Sizzle had previously visited the plant a couple of weeks ago to promote this celebration event at the ballpark.)

Although the game ended on a disappointing note with the T-Bones losing 4-2, the evening did not for the crowd as an awesome fireworks display followed the game.

Casey at the Bat By Ernest Lawrence Thayer Taken From the San Francisco Examiner - June 3, 1888

The 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 pall-like 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 but get 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 hoodoo, while the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat; For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on 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 lit 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 flashed 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 some one on the stand; And it's likely they'd have 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 dun sphere 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 has fled from Casey's lip, the 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 little children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out.