Posts: 355
Location: Wausau, Wisconsin | A cold nasty day,
The last in November.
The World Record Crap,
I could not remember.
My hand turned purple,
from manning the tiller.
I needed a beer,
For a good filler.
Though the Fox River really stunk,
of terrible sulpher,
This musky fisherman,
Rocked more than a golfer.
I looked at my graph,
To check my ground speed.
The waypoint was nearing,
it's my favorite indeed.
The rock bar jutes out,
then into the deep channel.
I then ask myself,
wwwWWWwwwWWWWWwwwWhere the heck is my fpffpfffpfflannel.
I look at my Fig Rigs,
as their rod tips bounce.
Where is that musky,
why will he not trounce?
I'm using my Jammers,
depthraiders and Jake.
Not having a Frabill Net,
would be a costly mistake.
Cause I look to my left,
in search of my board.
From under the water,
I popped up and soared.
A tremendous snag,
I so quickly thought,
Then I saw the musky
I so badly sought.
She was five feet long,
like the livewell of my Tuffy.
And twice as mean
as that vampire chick Buffy.
Her girth has huge
like a five gallon drum
and with 80# PowerPro
I knew she was done.
I gave a hard crank
on the handle of my reel.
She turned for the channel
as my drag made a sqeel.
No you don't hooker!
I scream with my voice.
You're life or your death,
that is MY choice.
My hands no longer cold,
my blood boiling hot.
I remember Spray's fish,
the record that's not!
This is my chance to end,
all of the poor squable.
You think I'm Edgar Allen Poe?
I can't rhyme with sqauble!
But that's not the point,
I've got a fish on the line.
The one that could be,
the best of all time.
I watch all of the numbers
on my linecounter go down.
I'll be on the cover
of Sloan's next "Musky Town".
I look back and thank,
God, Maina, Bucher and Mom,
For teaching me how,
Musky fishing's the bomb!
The battle goes on
Deep into the dark,
In another few moments
I will have made my mark.
Just when I think,
She's beginning to tire,
She screams down string,
Like she drank Mtn Dew LiveWire.
The battle goes on,
in the lights of the town,
This cannot keep up,
The fish has to wear down.
I start to turn her
and bring her on in.
The Hall of Fame,
is where I'll be in.
She finally hits the net,
This battle I have won,
But the stories not over,
I've just begun.
I think of the richest,
the sponsors and fame.
I think of how everyone
will now know my name!
I weigh her in the boat.
She's the best by a pound.
I can't wait to get,
on my way back to town.
I give her a whack,
and smile and grin.
"I've let you all go,
but this time I win".
I get back to the launch,
and who do I see?
A witness to this,
Mr. Warden McGee.
May I see your license?
He calmly asks.
He checks it over,
for all of the facts.
That's a heck of a fish,
Yes indeed I reply.
Then he asks me
of the rules which to comply.
Do you know there's a season
On these here musky fish?
I say "I sure do"
"Year rounds what I wish"
It's 12:32a.m. says warden
And this is the reason.
I'm taking your fish,
it's now out of season.
I beg and I plead,
I hooked him at 5:00.
Likely store he says
Go ahead and whine.
Why would you do this?
I scream and I bawl.
HIS REPLY TO ME...
MY BROTHER WORKS AT THE HALL.
-the end- |
