God bless them. No… God bless us. They say “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and feed him for a lifetime”. As good and promising as that quotes sounds, it’s very misleading. It should say, “Teach a man to fish, frustrate him, anger him, confuse him, break him, and keep him happy forever.”
People often ask me why I fish. I often give them the same answer of “I just love it”. Then I ask my self, why? I mean lets be honest, they’re a real piece if you ask me (the fish that is), and every fisherman can agree. They [the fish] plague our thoughts and dreams; they frustrate us, stress us out, bring out the worst in us and test us to the very core. Yet at the same time they bring us an unmatched joy.
They also say “A bad day of fishing is better than any day at the office” and isn’t that the truth? When I was about six my old man gave me my first fishing pole, and needless to say I was hooked. Fast forward 20 years later and there isn’t a single day of fishing that I would give up. There are many great things in life, but few bring me as much joy (or stress) as fishing, and I believe that will stand true for as long as I live.
You can take two people from different walks of life, give them a fishing pole and well after the suns gone down and last calls past they’ll be best friends talking about the one they caught and the one that got away. Fishing forms camaraderie amongst strangers that dates back to the earliest days and will continue to the end of time. The classic tale of “it was THIS BIG” will never get old for we all know a fish grows an inch every time his story goes around the campfire.
When explaining why I love fishing it’s easy to get existential and longwinded, but I’ll save those troubles for another post. In short act of fishing can be a metaphor for my zeal of the sport. It has its challenges, its highs and lows, trails and tribulations; but in the end there is nothing better than reeling in feeling holding up a 40lb salmon or a eight inch trout.