by Lum Michael Patterson

Created on: February 18, 2010   Last Updated: June 03, 2010

My only experience with fishing came at the age of twelve when I hooked and landed a fish. The fish turned out to be a Carp and all the adults had a big laugh. It seems that Carp is a worthless fish, too many small bones to be edible. Ruined both my day and my desire to fish. Sixteen years later I was being invited to go fishing by a friend who had just purchased a cabin on Lake Murray, a big lake north of Columbia, South Carolina where we lived. My immediate reply was “I’m not a fisherman”. “Me neither” he countered. “We can learn together, besides they give out prizes for the biggest fish in each category every week. Maybe we can win.” Ah, the real crux of this fishing expedition. David was the most competitive person I had ever meet. Tennis, golf, basketball, throwing rocks he took it all very seriously. “When do you want to go?” I asked. “Early in the morning is the best time. I’ll pick you up around six and we’ll be fishing by seven.” After leaving work I stopped at Wal-Mart. As I browsed through the fishing gear I pictured David showing up with at least one of everything a fisherman needs but decided to limit my equipment to a rod and reel, hooks, and sinkers.

Not since my college days had I been up at six on a Saturday morning and the only reason I was up even then was because I hadn’t been to bed yet. It took us the better part of an hour to drive to the cabin with a stop along the way to purchase a container of worms. When we arrived I was surprised to see David remove equipment identical to mine from the trunk of his car. As we walked down the hill toward the dock I told him that I had expected him to have a trunk full of fishing gear. He said he thought about buying more stuff but felt it would be better to win it. When we reached the dock I took the time to take in the scenery while David readied his pole. I turned just as he was putting a worm on his hook. “Better hurry or I’ll catch the first fish.” What a guy that David. “Just save at least one for me” I said as I began to ready my line. I was setting the sinker when David yelled “I got one”. I looked up and saw the end of his rod was bent into a bow. After a couple of minutes of reeling the fish was flopping all over the dock and David was trying with little success to grab the fish while holding the rod. He finally got a grip on the fish which he relinquished almost

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