The Bat

My ex called and asked me to come over to fix something. I assessed the damages and went out to the garage to look for tools. I was surprised to find two old friends there.

After a few minutes, Carol came out to find me. “I was wondering what happened to you.”

I had lost track of time, staring at an old bat and ball glove. “What are these doing here?” I had forgotten all about them.

“You didn’t take them. Lauren (our daughter) uses them.”

I remembered the rituals. Getting your new glove was fraught with boundless excitement and anticipation. You oiled it, put a baseball in the pocket and tied it up tight with a rag. All part of breaking it in. That and getting your dad to steam it into you about a hundred times.

The bat was a quest. Just the right length, swing weight and feel. Although, it sometimes boiled down to the one that gifted you that magic day you couldn’t do anything but crush the ball.

These were not the equipment of my youth, but followed not that long after. The glove sucked in every ball near me and the ugly red bat rocketed many a sphere over the fence. I picked up the bat and swung it. Ah! Perfect. This evoked a previously made decision for reconsideration.

I haven’t played baseball for a long time, but I do kayak. The paddle is the equivalent of the bat. The quest for the perfect one is a little more complex because of the additional variables. There’s length, blade size, blade shape, blade offset, weight, shaft design and material.

I started with a fairly prosaic model until I found my groove. Then, I went to a really good one. It was awesome for rolls and play moves, but just didn’t feel entirely right on the forward stroke. Most of my strokes are forward strokes.

Later, I was buying a kayak from a dealer who has a great deal of expertise. He recommended a paddle to go with it, and offered a good discount. I told him I already had a paddle, but he insisted I try this one. It was a bit of an oddball design, but I gave it a shot. Incredible blade control and felt pretty good at almost everything. I took it.

Pretty good isn’t bad. But, it’s not perfect. I stuck with that design but would experiment with others I came across. No improvement, so I was suspecting I had discovered the summit. The search abated.

Last week, a friend brought a paddle he had acquired on ebay to pool practice. I tried it out. Wow. What a feel.

I went home and looked it up on the manufacturer’s web site. Sweet. Then, I looked at the price. Yikes.

My eyes drifted and noticed a link to an even higher grade of this design. There’s something better than this? The ultimate. The Sho-Gun. I clicked over to its page. Double sweet. I looked at the price. Double yikes. I mulled it over for a while, but couldn’t reconcile that investment with my moderate skills.

Now, I’m holding an old red bat. Carol says, “You look like you’re thinking about something.”

I take a swing. Perfect. Feels just perfect. “I’m thinking of buying a bat.” She raises her eyebrows. “ I mean a paddle.”