Often imitated but never matched, 'Casey at the Bat' hit the century mark on Friday with its place in history still secure as America's best-known piece of comic verse. The mighty slugger's whiff remains the best-known strikeout of all, far outdoing any involving Reggie Jackson or Carl Hubbell.

The San Francisco Examiner first published the ballad on June 3, 1888, placing it inconspicuously on Page 4 between an editorial on the Republican national convention, which would nominate Benjamin Harrison, and a cynical column by Ambrose Bierce.

As the newspaper noted in reprinting the ode on Friday, its impact wouldn't have been nearly as great had the mighty Casey homered to win the game for the Mudville nine that day. And if he'd hit a two-out single to drive in Flynn, who was "a hugging third," and Jimmy Blake ("safe at second") for a 4-4, ninth-inning tie, he'd be just another fictional ballplayer.

"THE STORY OF CASEY has become an American myth because Casey is the incomparable, towering symbol of the great and glorious poop-out," wrote Martin Gardner, a one-time newspaper reporter who was inspired to undertake a study of the poem's factual basis and compile a collection of ballads about Casey.

Born in Lawrence, Mass., Ernest Lawrence Thayer was a brilliant philosophy student at Harvard University, where he developed close friendships with philosophers William James and George Santayana. He edited the Harvard Lampoon and faithfully attended every Crimson baseball game in 1885, when he graduated with highest honors.

He accepted an offer from Harvard chum William Randolph Hearst to write a humor column for the Sunday supplement in Hearst's Examiner. Two years later, when he was 24, "Casey" ran as his final contribution -- as usual under the byline of "Phin," his nickname.

A few Eastern papers reprinted it, but the ballad only caught on after capturing the fancy of comedian William De Wolf Hopper.

A BORED HOPPER decided to try reciting it one night in May 1889 during the performance of a comic opera on Broadway. The audience was so delighted that, by Hopper's count, there were over 10,000 times in his career when he cleared his throat and began: "The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day É"

After disgustedly watching several people falsely claim authorship of "Casey," Thayer spent his life immersed in great books and philosophy and admitted frustration shortly before his death in 1940 that he'd never succeeded in writing anything serious.

Not unlike his slugger, Thayer was chagrined at how he'd left his mark. He called the ballad "nonsense" and huffed that "its persistent vogue is simply unaccountable."

Balderdash, say countless fans.

A group of seventh-graders in San Francisco brought the tradition alive for a new generation this week, acting the poem out for the entire student body. True to history, young Steve Arciniega swaggered up on stage and -- after pounding with cruel violence his bat upon the plate -- struck out.