So, I’ve been meaning to jot this down for a while, just a little something from my time spent around the local ballparks. It’s about this player, Dylan Watts. Not a household name, not by a long shot, but sometimes the most interesting things you see aren’t under the brightest lights, you know?
I got into the habit of watching some of the college league games a few years back. It wasn’t anything serious, just a way to kill an afternoon and see some raw baseball. And that’s where I first noticed Dylan Watts. He wasn’t the star hitter, didn’t have the rocket arm. He was just… steady. But there was one thing about him that really stuck with me, something I ended up paying a lot of attention to.
That Old Piece of Wood
It was his bat. Honestly. In an era where every kid is swinging the latest composite or aluminum super-bat, Dylan was using this old, beat-up wooden thing. It looked like it had stories to tell, you know? Like it had been passed down or found in a dusty corner somewhere. And he didn’t just use it for batting practice; this was his game bat.
My “practice,” if you want to call it that, became observing his whole routine with this bat. I’m a curious guy, so I really wanted to figure out the deal. Was it some kind of good luck charm? Did he just not have the cash for a new one? What was the story there? So, I started watching him more closely.
- I’d make sure to get to the field early, just to see his pre-game ritual. He’d handle that bat with a certain care you don’t often see.
- I’d look at the other players, the ones with their flashy gear, and sometimes they’d give his bat a funny look. You could almost see the questions in their eyes.
- I even casually asked one of the assistant coaches once, “Hey, what’s the story with Watts and that antique bat?” He just chuckled and said, “That’s Dylan for you. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, I guess.” Not much help there.
Anyway, there was this one game, a really tight one, tied in the bottom of the eighth, I think. Bases loaded, two outs. And up comes Dylan Watts. The pressure was on, you could feel it. He steps into the box, takes a few practice swings with that old wooden bat. And then, crack! Not a monster home run, nothing for the highlight reels really, but a clean, solid single right up the middle. Drove in two runs, put them ahead.
After the game, while the team was celebrating a bit, I saw him. He was quietly wiping down that old bat, almost like he was thanking it. It wasn’t about the technology, or the hype. For him, it was about feel, about trust in what he knew. And that’s what really hit me.
It kind of made me realize that sometimes, in baseball, and probably in a lot of other things, it’s not always about having the newest, shiniest, most expensive stuff. Sometimes it’s about what works for you, what you’re comfortable with, what feels right in your own hands. That old bat was part of Dylan Watts, an extension of him. And watching him succeed with it, in his own quiet way, was a pretty cool thing to witness. It’s those little details, those individual stories, that make the game more than just stats on a scoreboard. Just a thought from my time watching from the bleachers.
