Dedicated in memory of my good friend, Dewey Mullins.
'Twas the day before Christmas in the year two thousand and twelve,
But nary a basser yet was ready to stow his gear and sit for a spell.
So what if the nights were getting so cold it made your old bones ache,
And God help you if you weren't extra careful when hitting a wake.
The stores were all crazy with last-minute shoppers galore,
Climbing o'er the top of one another and creating one heckuva roar.
Meanwhile, all we could think about was finding ol' bubba,
C'mon, fellas, what are we waiting for? Hubba-hubba!
Out of West Neck we in our bass boats did all fly,
Snugly bundled up under that dark threatening sky.
We knew it'd be a miracle if we didn't get wet this day,
That's why I reckon we first decided just to gather and pray.
Some turned north out of the creek, while others went south,
With one thing in common, though, and that was a closed mouth.
After all, none of us were looking to catch a death of cold,
Even if we perhaps were a bit foolishly bold.
From Cow Creek to Milldam and points much farther beyond,
We hit 'em with everything, but only dinks did respond.
And, then, just as frustration was beginning to sit in,
We felt that dreaded moisture start hitting our skin.
It started as a light mist, but soon changed to sleet,
Then came snowflakes--Oh, boy! I thought, now we're replete.
With that saying about the "worst day fishin'..." running all through my head,
I went digging through my tacklebox for something that had a little red.
Ahhh! Maybe this red-craw crankbait will do the trick,
So I hurriedly grabbed it and tied it on my St. Croix stick.
Chatterbaits, spinnerbaits, suspending jerkbaits and much more--
I'd tried 'em all but hadn't found a decent keeper heretofore.
Having just checked my watch, I realized that time was running short;
If I was gonna catch bubba, this crankbait likely would be my last resort.
Cast after cast, I rapidly fired toward the shoreline,
In my feverish effort to boat a big 'un before the approaching deadline.
Just as I was thinking all hope for the day certainly must be gone,
I caught glimpse of a swirl, indicating a sizable fish I just had happened upon.
Wheeling and casting in what luckily was one succinct motion,
The bait barely had landed when the water erupted like an ocean.
Running hither and yon, this fish definitely had a mind all of its own;
Nothing I did resulted in the slightest amount of slowin'.
Oh Roland, oh Bill, oh Denny, Jimmy and Woo,
What should I do to tame this ornery "Shamu"?
With dexterity, he darted from one stump to the next,
Testing my reel to see if it met all of its specs.
Then, in one wild, head-shakin' leap to gain its freedom,
I realized this fish wasn't going to gain me any stardom.
Bubba he was, but bass he definitely was not,
That mouth full of teeth told me why the battle was so hard-fought.
Call him bowfin or grindle--whatever you like,
The way I see it, he might as well have been a pike.
Unhooking the critter, I tied things down, then headed for the barn,
Where I knew I'd catch plenty of razzin' for this ridiculous yarn.
But what the hey? It was Christmas Eve, and all across the land,
People would be celebrating, 'cause another holiday was at hand.
Up North Landing River, I went at full bore,
I was gonna make weigh-in, even though I wouldn't score.
Eating sleet mixed with snowflakes all along the way,
I couldn't help feeling like it had been one mighty long day.
I just had throttled back, as I headed to the boat basin,
And was catching my breath, 'cause I knew I no longer had to hasten.
When over the low rumble of my trusty ol' Yamaha,
I thought I heard, "Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
As I turned an eye skyward and peered through all that gently falling blanket of snow,
I'd swear I saw a sleigh with 8 tiny reindeer and a fella in a red suit shouting, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
All of a sudden, it no longer mattered what kind of razzin' I'd have to withstand,
'Cause what I'd just experienced was simply nothing short of grand.
Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Tight Lines! to one and all,
Enjoy this beautiful season, and have yourself a ball.
In all things, though, please keep safety at the ready,
And whatever you do, don't let that bubbly go to your ol' "heady."
That was great, Dad! ♥
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