Ok, here’s the deal. I’m giving one lucky person their choice of a 5wgt GPX or a 5wgt Ultimate Trout SHARKWAVE line from Scientific Anglers next Friday (1-24-14). You won’t be able to buy this line in shops until March so if you wanna be that cool kid on the block with the newest toy you need to keep reading.
How do you win? It’s simple. Make up a very short story using these words: shark, wave, sucker punch, walkie talkie, revenge, scientific, anglers, and unpaid intern. Post your story as a comment on this photo.
If you share it, that’s cool. It doesn’t help your chances of winning though. Creativity wins this one.
A winner will be chosen sometime during the day next Friday. Good luck.
When the unpaid intern took my walkie talkie, did I approach the situation in a scientific manner? No, I gave him a sucker punch, tossed him into the water in the hopes that a shark my find him, and gave a wave to the anglers standing by dumbfounded. The end.
Just realized I forgot “revenge”…
When the unpaid intern took my walkie talkie, did I approach the situation in a scientific manner? No, I gave him a sucker punch, tossed him into the water in the hopes that a shark my find him, and gave a wave to the anglers standing by dumbfounded. Revenge.
The end.
The rest of the guys in the shop are scratching their heads, trying to figure out what the hell an “unpaid intern” is and why one would show up out here in the sticks with a set of scientific blueprints for some kind of weird walkie talkie. I’m watching Shark. He’s got his eyes on these blueprints like he’s seen them before. “Come back tomorrow morning,” he says. The intern dude tilts his head back and Shark tilts his back the same way— quick, kinda like anglers setting hooks on each other. They stare for a long moment before the intern walks out, leaving blueprints on the table. Now, Shark was always playing games with people. That’s how he got his nickname. He once started a yearlong cycle of revenge pranks that ended with a sucker punch to the supervisor. So, we all stand there waiting for Shark to make a crack at that intern and none of us say anything and neither does Shark. He rolls up the blueprints, tucks them under his arm and walks out, raising his hand a little without looking back. I think it was a wave goodbye because the next morning, no Shark and no intern. A few days pass and everybody is taking about seeing lights in the sky down by Shark’s place. True story.
I’m working on mine. Its a little out there but I will post it tonight 🙂
“I hooked a pig.”
The only sound was the quiet stress of tackle as the fish descended back into the depths. It was only going to be a few more seconds until the drag started to sing. My walkie talkie crackled a little static before Steve answered my call, “You hooked a pig?” I realized that my panicked call for assistance was probably misinterpreted next to a herd of cattle and a farm; a little levity for the life affirming, shark like fish that had arisen from the depths to elimate the intruder that was my fly. The sucker punch of the take had induced the feeling of slow motion until I saw the wave made from the fish’s ambush reach the shore.
“Big fish!” I shouted into the walkie as time seemed to speed up and then go into overdrive. The fish was running, not used to the feeling of food fighting back. “I’ll be right there!” The walkie beeped back at me as the fish tested the limits of my tippet. I told myself I was gaining the upper hand but the fish made sure I was never confident of that fact. I could tell that this was my big fish of the year and I was going to land this hog even if I had to dive in after it. This would be my sweet revenge for all of the close calls and long distance releases I had experienced with anything respectable up until this point in the season.
Twenty minutes before, this stream didn’t look all that promising. “Let’s just walk a hundred yards of it. Then we can cross it off the list.” I had almost left my gear back at the truck, but Steve was taking his, so I took mine. We weren’t being scientific about our approach to this bit of water that flowed under a rickety bridge and through a pasture. It was wet, it flowed, but it looked hot and muddy and like a carcass could float to the surface if the depths were disturbed. Today, though, we were dedicated anglers and were committed to at least exploring what this dirty looking stretch of spring creek had to offer.
Grinning like an unpaid intern being told they were getting a bonus, Steve finally made his way down to the pool I was in. After another ten or fifteen seconds, I was finally able to coerce the large brown close enough to be netted. The fish fought even harder when in the net. All of the other trout that day fought tooth and nail, on the line, in the net, posing for pictures. Steve had to catch three better than 16″ before we could finally get a good photo that didn’t involve showcasing the fish diving back into the water.
That water had looked so poor from the road. Just a hundred yards made all the difference.
New Neighbors
One day I was out loading my surf rods into my SUV. Recently I had a couple new neighbors move in down the street. An older man and his extremely attractive wife. The wife walked down and asked if I was heading to the beach and would like a ride. I quickly agreed. Once we were there we took a walk down the beach. On the way she explained to me they had just moved here for her husbands job. He was a scientific researcher at University in town. The more we walked the more she talked. Explaining in detail her husbands promiscuous ways with his new unpaid interns. I started feeling awkward about it all and headed down toward some other anglers who were casting to shark silhouettes they could see in the waves. The cougar was right next to me clearly wanting revenge against her hubby. After a few casts she decides we should go back to my place for a night cap. Being the nice guy I was I couldn’t say no to her. One thing led to another
and well.. You know the rest. The next morning before breakfast I walked to my front door to grab the paper. I open the door and BOOM! Sucker-Punch to the face! The old guy can pack a WaaLup!! The next thing I remember was waking up to the noise of a police mans walkie-talkie. After all the paper work was sorted I walked back inside. Feeling ashamed I headed to bed but then noticed her cute pair of pink lace undies on the floor. To bad I couldn’t smell my success. My nose was extremely swollen 🙁
Semi-true story, well not really
Adam B.
You Sir an awesome man!