Pinkton was the leader of our fishing club. Then during the midwinter meeting of our group, I got the best news of my entire fishing life. No one really gets it, except for other fishermen. “And Nicole’s bait box spilled and there were worms all over the place!” “Billy’s line got tangled!” I would exclaim. you name it, we fished it.Īfter each fishing trip, my parents would ask me all about it and try to be interested. We went to oceans, lakes, rivers, brooks, streams. “You’ll get to be with other people who love fishing as much as you do,” she said. Then my mom told me about a fishing club at the YMCA. “I have to take a nap,” he said another day, even though it was 10 in the morning. “I have to fix my car,” he said another day. Nobody in the family liked fishing except for me.Īfter that trip with Steve, I begged my dad to take me fishing, but he kept making excuses. “I want to like fishing, but I just can’t pull it off,” my dad said. Nobody else caught anything the whole day. “Beginner’s luck,” grumbled my brother, Jack. After 10 minutes, I caught a huge bluefish! But one day last year, my dad’s friend Steve took us fishing on his boat. It’s not like I come from a fishing family or anything.
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