Badass BATs | Cleveland Heights High School

Badass BATs

Man, those were good times—free as a bird. President of BAT, short for Beta Alpha Tau, that prodigious high school fraternity—been around for almost 100 years. Great traditions and kids who would become masters of the universe in their professions: college presidents, doctors, businessmen, lawyers, professors, and now me—Steven, the Army Ranger Delta Force wannabe. Priceless memories.

We were naughty but not juvenile delinquents—merely cool badasses. The best looking, smartest, and finest athletes… We ruled: president of the school, stars of the football, baseball, and basketball teams but we were really depraved. College scholarships and great futures awaited but an occasional night in jail made us more well-rounded. We were not criminals, just broke a few windows or engaged in some sporadic drunken orgies. Blowing up the principal’s mailbox with a cherry bomb or breaking the nose of someone who would dare challenge one of us seemed like harmless fun and reasonable things to do. We were so nasty that girls loved us, and other guys despised us. That’s the way it should be. Their mothers adored us, and their fathers hated us. That’s also the way it should be, and that’s the way it was. I really don’t think the fathers knew that we occasionally pulled out our dicks at parties. Their daughters would scream bloody murder and pretend not to look. Jonny was always the first. He would yell, “Dick is out!” That was the signal. If the fathers only knew that these were the same kids they cheered for at the Friday night football games. Nancy, one of our cutest classmates, would usually scream the loudest and run away shrieking, “Disgusting!” She also gave great hand jobs.

Being president of our infamous organization gave me a lot of pride as well as a great deal of responsibility. I was usually the one called into the office to explain why Jonny drove his “Indian” motorcycle down the long front hall of the school yelling “Fuck!” or why Victor mooned the assistant principal in the parking lot. These things were hard to explain. They were spontaneous. They just happened. Now you’ve got to understand—back then there were no drugs. HIV had not been discovered. Kids did not kill kids. We did not have weapons. “Zero tolerance” had not yet been coined. We were bad, but the school put up with us. So, one of my jobs as the prez was to put out fires and keep my brilliant brothers in school so that their budding careers in medicine, law, and business would be fulfilled. Had to keep their permanent records clean. It wasn’t easy, but it was my sacred responsibility—almost like black ops.

This excerpt, “Badass BATs” is from my novel: Altered State of Affairs | now available on Amazon.