The slight smell of fish mixed with exhaust from the boat motors filled the air. There was a low rumble from everybody’s boat motor that ruined the silence there was that morning. This lake used to be a river, but a dam was put up and the riverbed flooded out to make a lake. The air was so cold that the water was letting off a thin layer of fog just above it. All the boats align according to which numbers they drew, and then it’s time for takeoff. The tournament director starts to yell out numbers in chronological order. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… We put the motor in drive. 6…

We throw the motor into high and tilt the engine up, so that we skip across the water like a rock, speeding by at 60 miles an hour. 5 people went in front of us, so we had to catch up to them and beat them to the spot that we wanted. Luckily we got by two of them, one of which was trying to get to the same spot as us, all the others either went in the other direction or just kept going right on by. We pull up on the little inlet, which isn’t much bigger than two or three classrooms put together. It’s home to a little sea wall, two docks, and a down tree in the back. Usually we can get one good fish out of this area, and we did. My grandpa pulled a solid 2 ½ pounder out from underneath the dock on the right. Once we hit the key areas, we bust out of there.

Throughout the day we fish many structures. We fish a bunch of down trees, Jig in between some root systems, hit a few more docks. The tournament is almost over, but we were already near the launch, so we fish for a couple more minutes about 100 yards from where the weigh in is. We’ve caught 4 keepers today, and we really could use that 5th one. I flip my jig up between some cat tails and a dock. But the jig goes over one of the drooping cat tails. I pull it back over and let it sink back down to the bottom. But as soon as it hits the water on it’s way back down, there is a big swirl on top of the water. I reel down all the slack in the line and set the hook hard. I haven’t caught a fish all day and even a little keeper could help us out. I have to get it into the boat. I personally didn’t think the fish was big enough to keep when I set the hook, it just didn’t feel that heavy. But my grandpa is right at my side with the net, at the back of the boat. I reel the fish right up next to the boat and I see, just how big it really is. It never really pulled very hard or anything like that which is why I never thought to call for the net. We net the fish and put it in the livewell with the others. Time has ran out in the tournament.
On our way back to the launch, I looked at my grandpa and said, “I didn’t think that that fish was gonna’ be that big.”

He looked back at me and responded, “I did. I saw the swirl on top of the water and I knew you were going to need the net. That was a good pitch by the way, right next to those cat tails. You got it right up in there.” I feel my body perk up, and a grin stretch across my face. “We needed that fish too! And honestly, I think it’s bigger than the one I caught.”

At weigh in we won by two and a half pounds or so. Without my fish, which weighed 3.14 pounds, we would have taken a close second place. And, my fish was bigger than my grandpas. Only by .06 ounces, but still bigger. But that day was more than just winning the tournament and fishing with my grandpa. He told me something that I had been longing to hear for years. “Good job.” Those words rang in my ears for months and still do to this day. Such a judgemental man, who fell short so many times when I was younger, made promises but never kept them, told ME good job. A man who could have very easily went pro when he was in his younger years. Boy was I happy.