The Bat | Teen Ink

The Bat

April 5, 2017
By connor14 BRONZE, Wilmington, Massachusetts
connor14 BRONZE, Wilmington, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It was his most prized possession. Besides his family and friends, he loved nothing more than his signed Ted Williams baseball bat. He would spend time cleaning it squeaky clean and telling stories about how Ted cranked it over the Green Monster. The way he told the stories made me smell the Fenway Franks, hear the crowd cheer after the crack of the bat. That bat made him remember all the old Red Sox games he’s been to.

“You know Ted Williams gave me that bat right?”
“I know grandpa, you’ve told me plenty of times”
Later that day, I had baseball practice and everyone had a wooden bat besides me. I was not aware that we had to bring a wooden bat. My house was right down the street, so I ran to my house after the bell and grabbed my grandpa’s signed bat and sprinted back to the field. During batting practice, I was cautious about scratching the bat and tried to hit the ball light enough to make good contact but not damage the bat. The sound it made while the ball and bat made contact was amazing. But suddenly I got carried away and tried to kill the ball, the sound in this crack of the bat did not sound so good this time. After I looked down at the bat, I realized the bat was split open and basically fell apart. I panicked and completely lost it. After practice I ran home and grabbed the bat in my room that looked identical to signed one that my grandpa cherishes. I took all the time in the world to try copying Ted William’s signature. It was a miserable failure and I panicked once again. I waited for my sister to get home to drive me to Sports Authority. As we arrived, I ran right to the baseball aisles. My grandpa was in Maine and said he was coming home at around eight.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” said the worker
“Yes, do you have a tan wooden Louisville Slugger around?”
He directed me right to the bats I was looking for but they still looked like nothing like the Ted Williams bat that will trick my grandpa into thinking it’s the same one. My grandpa calls me.
“Connor have you seen my signed bat?”
“No, why is it gone?”
“Yes I think someone stole it”
My heart was pounding into my stomach and lost all hope. I could tell how angry he was in the tone of his voice. Then suddenly I found the identical bat and my sister forged the signature for me perfectly and then I snuck it back into the case without him realizing.
“Connor, I know you used my bat”
“How did you find out”
“Your sister accidentally told me over the phone”
Well I didn’t mean to ruin the bat”
It’s alright, I was going to sell it anyway”
I finally realized that I was overreacting the whole time and should not have been so worried about it. My grandpa is still going to sell the bat because it looks identical to his real signed one.


The author's comments:

This is sort of an allegory. The bat is a cherished possession that represents memories and praise. The grandfather represents the scammer. The fake signature represents fraud.


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