The Autobiography of a “Cricket Bat”
Hi! Mr. Bat, why are you crying? Were you also thrown away by your master?” Mr. Tinman asked me. I burst into tears and narrated him my sad story “Ah! Those were my golden days of childhood.I was born in England. My father was one of the highly prized willow tree. It was seasoned for about a year before it was given to a master craftmen for chiselling into a fine bat.Like sculptor he shaped raw wood into beautiful bats. With streamlined contours and curves, I was born into a beautiful but strong bat. I was well oiled and polished. I was finished with perfection. My head rose with pride when my manufacturer declared that I was one of his best creation, which was fit for a world class cricketer.…