I really shouldn’t tell these stories, but after telling them to a couple of friends the other night, and seeing the reaction I got from them, I figured I had to share them with all of you.  I also have no shame so I’m willing to take the brunt of whatever comes at me after sharing.  The ribbing I’m going to get is worth it for the pleasure all of you will get by reading the stories.

A few years back I was fishing with Jeff and son his Tyler in Jeff’s boat he had at the time.  We were enjoying the good weather we had that Labor Day and were attempting to put the hurting on some Largemouth bass.  Little did I know that a particular bass I would land that day was going to put the hurting on me.

We were using the tried and true Rat-L-Trap, and were having mild success, when I finally landed a decent 10-12 inch fish.  The Rat-L-Traps have two sets of hooks and one set was firmly lodge in the bass’ mouth.  I grab Mr. Slimy and just as I do he wiggles just right and the extra set of hooks firmly lodge right into the area between my thumb and index finger.  Of course he has a hook in his mouth as well, so I have one hook from the Rat-L-Trap in my hand, and dangling from the other end of the hook is Mr. Bigmouth.  Jeff, being the big baby he is about stuff like this, looks like he is about to pass out, but does manage to at least free the fish from his peril.  The only problem with that of course is that I still have the other set of hooks firmly implanted in my hand.  Good stuff. 

I try and remove it myself, but it is buried so deep that I just can’t make it happen without crying like a little baby.  So needless to say we get to the dock and the wife shuttles me to the emergency room where they the numb it up good and eventually pull the intruder from my hand.  I’m safe for the moment.

Fast forward to Memorial Day the next year.  Jeff and I head out on a gorgeous Saturday morning and try our luck again to outwit those canny Largemouth bass.  It is opening day of the bass season here in Michigan and we are pumped up for the morning of fishing.

We arrive early, and to say the fishing was slow is an understatement.  It was horribly slow and Jeff was trying everything in his arsenal.  He pulls out this jig that is about the size of my thumb and begins trying to jig for bass.  Not a problem because we have been successful with this method plenty of times before.

He is in the back of the boat and I am up in the front.  Then it happens.  We have been fishing for 20 some years together without incident, but for some reason on this particular morning Jeff wasn’t exactly paying attention to where the backward motion of his cast was going.  I noticed the jig head pass very close in front of my face, and begin yelling at him to stop, when he promptly follows through and implants the jig hook in the left cheek of my face.  

To say I am mad doesn’t even cover it.  We call the family at the house for some help and my sister can hear my colorful language piercing the morning air from the dock.  I am not a happy camper, and all Jeff can do at the site of this jig head stuck in my face, is laugh uncontrollably.  It is funny now, but at the moment I was pissed!  There is just no way to sugarcoat it.

We head for the dock and I attempt to once again remove a hook that has been implanted in my flesh to no avail. It didn’t hurt when it was sitting idle, but I will tell you that when I grabbed that thing with pliers to try and remove it myself it was a different story.  I knew it was going to require either heavier equipment or drugs. I pick the second choice.  Anything to get this thing out of my face.

So off the wife and I go again to the emergency room to get a foreign object removed.  As luck would have it the same doctor is on duty that had already removed the hook from the hand the previous Labor day, and the wife feels a need to make it known that this has happened to me before.  God I love her!

The doctor promptly sticks the biggest needle I have ever seen in my cheek, and after some tugging and pulling, gets the hook out of my face.   He writes the emergency room report and in it under the comments section is the best advice given to me at the time, “Give up fishing and take up skydiving”

Thank god nothing like that has happened since and I always make sure that evertime I fish with Jeff I have some sort of head gear for protection.  They do make for some good stories though.  I can’t wait to tell my kids!

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