} There was ease in Orrie's manner as he raised his mighty staff;
} Omniscience in Orrie's bearing, and from Orrie's throat, a laugh.
} And when, responding to the cheers, he said, "You all sound flat,"
} No fighting fish could doubt that it was Orrie at the bat.
} Ten thousand eyes were on him as he got his shirt a-tuck;
} Five thousand tongues dared not say the forbidden word "woodchuck."
} Then while the Purdue pitcher ground the fruit with hidden file,
} Orrie's eyes grew full of hate, yet on his face, a smile.
} And now the Chinese gooseberry came hurtling through the air,
} And Orrie stood a-watching it, trying to comb his hair.
} Knowing just what would happen, he watched it as it sped --
} "Foul behind third," said Orrie. "Strike one," the umpire said.
} From mail servers and from Usenet, the mood got rather dark,
} With frowns made up of nearly every punctuation mark.
} "K1LL H1M!!!!!!!!!! K1LL THE UMP1RE!!!!!!!!!" said someone on WebTV;
} And they would have killed him had they not crashed mysteriously.
} Orrie looked out upon the crowd and sadly shook his head;
} Which stilled the rising tumult, causing voices to stop dead.
} He yelled back at the pitcher, "Here's a knuckleball from you";
} And just as Orrie had foreseen, the umpire said, "Strike two."
} "FRAUD!!!!!!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo said, "me
} too"; But the FAQ upon the scoreboard made the "bies" somewhat less
} "new." The audience saw Orrie snarl, his teeth begin to grit,
} And they knew that Orrie predicted this time, he'd get a hit.
} The smile is gone, but still his brain holds knowledge without bound;
} RealVideo goes dark without a picture or a sound.
} And now only those at the game can see the fruit take flight,
} And now only those at the game see Orrie's blinding light.
} Oh, somewhere newsgroup posts resound with humor and with wit;
} Somewhere people transcribe every Monty Python bit,
} Somewhere minds just come alive with comic genius thought,
} But there is no joy at IU--'twas an accidental zot.