I thought fishing was supposed to be fun?

By Staff
Scot Beard
During the last few millennia fishing has been a vital part of the human existence.
The practice has provided food for countless people and, in more recent centuries, offered a source of recreation.
For me, however, fishing has been a source of disaster and embarrassment.
The first time I went fishing – about 19 years ago – the reel flew off the rod when I cast out my line. As far as I know it is still resting somewhere along the bottom of the Tennessee River.
The second time I went fishing I caught my line in a tree, kicked over the bait bucket and stepped on a pack of cigarettes belonging to my sister's boyfriend.
I reasoned it was not me but the location that was cursed – both disasters occurred at the same place – and did not allow my misadventures to dissuade me from fishing. I continued to fish off and on since with varied results.
As time marched on, I met my wife, who loves to fish. Well, she loves to cast out and to reel in the catch. She does not like to bait the hook if it is not artificial bait and she does not like to take the fish off the hook.
This past weekend, she got the itch to head to the river and try her luck.
As we drove to our favorite spot she called one of her friends, who is an avid fisherman, and asked what would be the best bait to use this time of year. His answer was crickets.
What this means is that I get to pull bugs out of a jar and bait my wife's hook. While I am baiting my own hook fish nibble the cricket off of her hook, but she doesn't manage to hook the hungry fish so when I get ready to cast out, my wife needs her hook baited again.
That is why I hate fishing with crickets.
After about 10 minutes, I get my first catch of the day – a snail of some sort. That was actually the second time I caught a mollusk while fishing at that location.
After my wife caught a small brim, I thought I caught a fish to put hers to shame. My pole bent over on itself like a frat boy at a spring break party as I reeled in my hook.
It was odd because what was on the other end of the line was not fighting. It took quite a bit of effort to bring it to shore and by the time I got it to the dock, I realized why it wasn't fighting – it was a branch.
When I pulled it out of the water to get my hook out, about six more snails fell off of it. I guess I was going to have escargot for dinner. Yuck.
Moments later, I hooked the biggest catch of my life – myself. A few moments later we left.
We returned Sunday and were rewarded with a better experience.
We both caught big catfish that would have made a great dinner if we didn't practice catch and release.
I had another big catfish on the hook, but it snapped the line by the time I got it to the dock.
My fishing career began with one of my biggest disasters, and now I have my first tragedy. I love this sport, even if it doesn't love me.