wonder boy

so yeah. this is the bat that paid the price of my emotional tsunami. damn i loved that bat. in fact, it has a little history behind it. The Hulkster (my bro) first used this stick in early 90's beer league softball matches. left behind at my folks house, i took her under my wing and started keeping it in the trunk of the Dodge Dynasty for protection in the mean street of the S-Gate! werd. escaping several intense, action-filled years in the burbs (without seeing any non-passtime action) it spent a few years in dry dock while i wasted my time and money at an institution of higher learning. (the effects of that last job interview are obviously still being felt) Anyway, now that i live near a batting-range, the old girl came off the bench and had a new found exposure, explaining how my recent roommate and exploding electronic music DJ, rob felt the serene pull of bashing helpless goods and found the black bat was the perfect tool for "playing out" shitty CDs. this particular happening became a popular and now folklore-ish event at one of the shows that would be a stepping stone to his now world-famous status, seen here.
Once rob had blown fully up, he was able to move on and leave the bat and I to our devices, which mostly consisted of devastating high speed, little yellow balls (20 pitches for $1.50, up a quarter from last year). That was, until furry and alcohol took my strength to a superhuman level, and the little bat that could, did no longer.