The water was Calm, The sun was above the horizon, and the hooks were baited. I sat there along side my buddy and team mate "Heater". Both of us sportin cargo shorts with a fishin cap and our hockey team T-shirts in his brand new lund fishing boat. It had everything, everything from a little container to keep our fish alive till we head home for the day, a fridge for the many a beer we drank, and most importantly the ability to move us around from spot to spot to drop our lines. Sittin in that fishin' chair along side Heater, a bottle of Bud, and yes my lip packed with Cope long made for some special times. Spittin over the side of the boat made for easy goin's....not that i was catchin' too much, but i never had to put the rod down to grab my spit can.

The game we played for 9 months has all of a sudden transformed into a one on one battle with you vs. a creature of the lake. There is no one to help but only to cheer on. When you snag a nice 10 pounder and you're only usin' 8 pound test your heart starts to double thump, you start thinking "FUCK, why didnt i just spot the extra 10 bucks for some decent line....!" With the fight of the fish, and the excitement of knowing you now have a fish story to tell the lads back home (of course the story will be of a fish that was 5 pounds heavier than it acctually was). This one on one fight is just as exciting as the last minute of the 7th game in the first round of playoffs being up 4-3. The line either busts and you feel as if you just lost the stanley cup....OR....you succeed and bring in a fish that is only 2 pounds, your buddy gives you a tap on the back and says "good job Ba!" and thats enough to make you feel as if you cought a prize winning fish.