The One That Got AwayClose
The one that got away
The other passion that I had when I was a wee boy was fishing. It was one of the few times that I could spend the whole day with my dad and even though we rarely spoke we would just sit by the river and dream of landing the big one. To this day if I ever smell the drifting waves of pipe tobacco I’m immediately transferred back to that time sitting by the banks of the River Irvine with the old man beside me puffing on his briar. Alas the big one never ever came and all that we would land would be countless eels and the odd bike frame however there was one occasion that I was using a lure and as soon as it hit the water something the size of Moby Dick grabbed hold of it and tore down the river at an amazing rate of knots. I did what I could at the time to keep a tight grip and it veered into the river bank under the tree roots that stuck out and instead of trying to keep my cool and play the monster I became over excited and tried to pull it out from there but only managed to pull the hook out of its mouth. I would have loved to have at least seen what it was that I was fighting with but it’ll always be the one that got away.