(Jonathan Newton/The Washington Post)


Of all the things I expected to result from this Nationals season, a lengthy Bob Schieffer poetry recitation on CBS’s Face the Nation was not among them.

But that’s the thing about baseball. Heartbreak, spring joy, October poems by respected newsmen, etc.

“It was a week of highs and lows in Washington, and for once we’re not talking politics,” Schieffer said, before launching into the poem. Transcript below. Never transcribed a poem, I don’t think. (Truthfully, I just copied it from here.)

(Also, see Schieffer’s pre-NLDS piece here.)

Things were looking mighty good for our beloved Nats.
Harper found his batting eye, Zimmerman his bat.
Can this be right? Is it true? Are we having too much fun?
We were leading three to zip, and it was only inning one.

The innings really rolled along. We could not believe our eyes.
From Morse the Beast and Harper: homers, Big Boy size!
Oh God is great and so are we. We sing Hip, Hip Hurrah!
At the end of three: the Nats are six, the Cardinal lads, Na-da.

It was very close to freezing but no one there was cold.
World Series fever kept ’em warm, if the truth be told.
With victory in the offing, tomorrow’ll be a glorious day.
But then the Cardinals — being birds — began to peck away.

Their first score in inning four put no damper on our glee.
Shortly then, they got two more, but we still led it, six to three.
By inning nine, it’s 7-5, we’re comfortably ahead.
But suddenly these Cards seemed risen from the dead.

Our closer guy is throwing heat, but Cardinal bats got hot.
We don’t know how or why, but leading now, we’re not.
We had ourselves believing we were on the way to heaven.
But dreams became reality. We lost it, nine to seven.

In Casey’s famous epitaph, the sun did still shine bright.
Bands still played. Children sang. Somewhere hearts were light.
Skies were blue as blue, and somewhere bells were ringing.
But there was no joy in Mudville when Casey went down swinging.

And so it was in Washington on a cold and windy eve.
Yes, baseball is our greatest game, that I still believe.
But know like love, it brings a risk, and that’s the other part.
If you take it seriously, it just may break your heart.

It’s a strange gang, we who show interest in Washington baseball. That’s me talking, not Schieffer.