When I was in high school I visited the same largemouth bass at least once a week. I don't know if you can call that a friend, but we had a real connection.
I wish I was kidding.
Every Wednesday I'd skip last period (sorry mom) to go fishing for two hours before circling back to the high school to pick up my little brother.
The largemouth bass always hit in the same spot, on the same Texas-rigged Berkeley PowerWorm, always a red one, and fought nearly the same way. I could tell it was the same fish because of a scar behind its dorsal fin.
No, I didn't talk to the fish. I'm not insane––not totally insane.
It's no surprise that I starting working for fishing magazines, tying my career to fish like that largemouth bass, and others like it where ever I call home.
That fish died before I left home for college. RIP Larry.
It might be a little crazy I still talk about it.
Sleeping in is a waste of daylight. Do what you love––go fishing.
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