The year: 2013. The location: Biloxi, MS. The occasion: on the way home from an Alabama family reunion. I was determined to do some fishing off a pier in the Gulf. I got a bite and jerked my fishing rod a little too enthusiastically—launching the catfish toward me at the speed of light. One of the catfish’s fins stabbed me in the stomach. I could not pull it out, so after a good laugh, an amazed bystander ran to his tackle box, grabbed the appropriate tool, and—like a crazed EMT—clipped the fin off the catfish. The de-finned catfish dropped to the pier and was kicked over the edge. We pulled my shirt through the fin. Then the EMT-wannabe grabbed the fin with pliers and yanked it out. True story! I have witnesses! Not exactly the reason you want to draw a crowd at a fishing pier, but amused spectators quickly swarmed me. While this strange event was unfolding, my daughter or sister-in-law caught the perfect small fish for me to use as bait to catch THE BIG ONE I was envisioning when I walked onto that Mississippi pier. Since I was preoccupied with my unlikely ordeal, the guy fishing next to us ended up with MY bait fish. Not that I’m bitter about it, but soon he caught a fish so big that all the onlookers who had gathered around me flocked to him to watch him try to land MY BIG FISH. Did I mention he was using MY BAIT? I still have the shirt with a fin puncture in it. When things like this happen (and I seem to have more than my share), you can bemoan the missed opportunity—or brighten someone’s day with a good story. I choose the latter.
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