An affair to remember

It’s amazing how a piece of wood can become such an important part of your life… How every time you wield it in your hand it’s like your very life depends on it… How when it rains you hold it close to your chest, shielding it from every drop… How you seem to share a heartbeat… (How can I piece of wood have a heartbeat, you ask? I’m sure one day you’ll find an ‘object’ that does). How a small crack in the wood causes a great deal of pain in your heart and leads to even more anxiety when it is being repaired… In short, how you care for it, as if the “piece of wood” were your own flesh and blood.

That perfectly describes my relationship with my RNS Larsons ‘Omega’ bat; one that began in the summer of 2008 and was forced to a close a few weeks ago.

Sometimes you know right away that there is a connection; and when I picked up that bat, I knew right away that it was made for me! It weighed 1099gms, had a rather thin blade (compared to the ones you see now), but was beautifully balanced and felt almost like a wand in my hand! (I suppose now I understand why many others called it a ‘toothpick’).

I spent a good 4 months ‘seasoning’ it… Using linseed oil to ‘protect’ the wood and slowly knocking it in till I knew for sure it was ready for the competition.

I began using it in the nets, and at the very start knew that the ‘sweet spot’ was more than ‘sweet’, it was sensational. Any ball that hit the middle of that bat, would race off. It made me feel powerful, no matter what ‘form’ I was in.

I played some innings’ that I’m very proud of (with that bat), and others that I’d like to forget. We shared an unforgettable journey. One that began in a small sports shop in ‘General Bazar’, and ended 5 years later on a small ground in Cuttack. It was a journey that started off with a flurry of pull shots that brought up my first half century, then a few cover drives placed perfectly, a couple of lofted strokes straight over the bowler’s head, and ended with a reverse sweep that bisected backward point and short third-man and ran away towards the boundary!

When your favorite pen runs out of ink, all you have to do is fill it up again, but when your favorite pair of shoes begin to give way you can only repair them a few times—after that it’s all over. You my feel a tinge of regret, disappointment even, but when I when I walked into ‘Indiana Sports’ to get my bat repaired and was told that there was no point (in doing so) my heart sank. I suppose at the back of my mind I knew its time was up, but I never wanted to believe it. I was hoping against hope that it would last me a couple more tournaments— I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be.

Times now, have changed. Bats are all “ready to use” and don’t need to be conditioned at all. They break more easily and no one seems to care. There are a far less number of (as I like to call them), ‘bat tragics’ now, than there may have been ten years ago.

A relationship is forged over years. The ones that are nurtured and taken care of every step of the way are those that last longest. I’ve had my bat repaired, but I know if I use it now I will see it next in 5 different pieces. I suppose I keep it more for memory than anything else… After all, it really was an affair to remember!