Blunt Wit

His luck ran bad.  He had gone 1084 days without catching a fish.  Never mind that he hadn’t fished for the last 1083 days.  Today was the day his luck would change. 

He readied his trusty gear – nightcrawlers, slimy and earth brown, squiggling in their container, rods, tackle, explosives. He headed early to the pond with the boy, his son.  The day sparkled like a just windexed window.  The boy spoke first …
”So is Barry going to finally do it today.”

“Depends on whether or not he took a hit of his steroids beforehand or not.”

“I hope Barry creams it out of the park.”

The man smirked.

As they approached the pond they noticed a lone fisherman on the bank.  He cast his rod like a girl.  A loopy side arm action.  The man eyed him warily. 

”Caught anything?”

”A few shakers.  If you’re gonna use that fly rod you best head down to the docks where you can get a good cast off.”
So down the path they plodded.

At the turn of the pond they spied something in the water.  Too shallow for Nessie and wrong lake anyway.  Too big to be a motorized toy boat.  Ah, a yellow lab chasing ducks. 

”Damn dog’s gonna scare the fish away.  Odd luck all around!”

“It’s ok, we’ll catch ’em anyway.  You’re the best.”

So they found the dock.  The man stumbled in a hole just before the dock twisting his ankle in agony.   
”Damn old soccer injury!  My luck just doesn’t change does it?”

The boy looked down with compassion at his father wriggling in pain on the dock and said,  

“It’ll be alright.  You’ll see.  We’ll catch lots of fish today.”

So finally after baiting the hooks and casting they were fishing.  
Nothing.  Minutes bled into hours.  Still nothing.  The heat of the midday sun started bearing down on them.  Then suddenly a slight tug.  A hit!  The man jumped up and the boy started dancing with excitement.
 It took what seemed days to reel it in.  A fish so big as to make all others look tiny.  Indeed the man’s luck had changed. 

But just then the Warden walked up.

“Sir, your license?”

Holding the fish in one hand, the man mumbled,

”What … license?”

“Sir put the fish down in the pond and back away nice and easy.  You’re going to be fined for fishing without a license.”

So the man looked one last time at the brave, valiant fish and then set it free.

On the way back to the car they passed the girly caster, who asked,

“Catch anything?”

“Yes, we caught the biggest fish ever but the warden made us put it back,” blurted the boy.

He made a silly side arm cast laughing to himself.

When they reached the car the man reached for his camera.  
”Son, I want you to take a picture of me right here.”

“Why?”

“Cause I need to show some folks this here red shirt I’m wearing.”

”You mean your pink shirt?”

Crestfallen the man forced a smile.  They drove home together in silence. 

Are you a fan of Hemingway?  Favorite story/novel?  Who’s the greatest American author of all time in your opinion?
Ever go fishin?  Have any fish tales to share?
Ever feel bad luck following you like a dark cloud?