After I nabbed a stringer of snook a few months ago, my WaterLine editor feared I might transcend my title as the Fumbling Fisherman. Yes sir, Tommyboy was on his way to angling mastery. Soon I would be sucking down martinis with fellow fishing legends and forget my humble beginnings. Well, boss, you don’t have to worry. I am still a full-blown flub-master, and here’s the proof: Just recently I decided to swim with the fishes. Not intentionally, but that’s the way it turned out.
Let me set this up for you. It’s a sunny week-day afternoon. Our hero (let’s call him Tom) sticks a few rods in his car. He meanders down C.R. 776 to the El Jobean Bridge. Supposedly snook are hitting indiscriminately on all forms of rubber bait. Rather than walking out on the pier, Tom crosses over to try spin-casting off the seawall.
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