An item I had an incredible attachment to as a youth that I would like to share about today was my gold Easton baseball bat my father purchased for me when I was 13 years old. At the time, the bat sold for over $200 (thirty years ago) so it was quite an expense for us.
“The Golden Boy”
I remember the first time I saw it, it looked like something from another world. The gold paint with the black Easton logo and red patterns all perfectly symmetrical. At thirty-two inches and twenty-nine ounces, it packed quite a whallop. Pitching batting practice to me without an “L screen” (for protection) became a very risky endeavor. It felt like a weapon of war sent down to me from the gods…. and boy could I hit with it!
That summer I tore up the San Bernadino “Junior” little league division. The following year I started high school and had a stellar season as a freshmen, playing American Legion ball in the summer and into my sophmore year. I made varsity as a sophmore, the only other player that did that, that year, ended up being on the Green Bay Packers American football team. I was certainly riding high with that bat.
Later History of “Golden Boy”
I kept that bat all through my college years. One day, my girlfriend and I were making lunch at the off-campus apartment I lived at with three roommates, one of whom was my best friend at the time.
I heard a knock at the door, went to answer it and two girls were outside asking to see our roommate Alfred. I ushered them in, went back in the kitchen and shortly thereafter heard a loud commotion coming from Alfred’s bedroom. I could hear Alfred crying out, “Help me Mike, help me….!!”. I ran into the room and before I got two steps in a my golden Easton bat was barrel forward at eye level, in the hands of one of Alfred’s attackers. Two men, one older, was beating Alfred with a cain and a hail of fists.
The girl holding my bat told me to, “Get the f*** back!” I complied hesitantly and went to wake up my other roommate for backup. He proceeded to call the police, the attackers left. We took Alfred to the hospital and they said he would be alright, he just needed to rest. When we got home, I noticed the bat was still there.
What Became of “Golden Boy”
Sometimes legends just slip away…..I am not entirely sure what happened to that bat. I believe I gave it to Goodwill after a few more years of service. It certainly had a storied past and I indeed became quite attached to it.
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