The Fishing Night Before Christmas

By Rory Aikens

Arizona Game and Fish Department

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the lake,

Not a bass boat was stirring, there was nary a wake,

In hopes that the big bass would soon hit the lure,

Crappie schools were nestled way off their lake beds,

While visions of fish dancers leaped in our heads,

With mama in her bass seat, while the line did unwrap,

Had dangled a Robo worm as she took a brief nap.

When out on the lake, there arose such a shad clatter,

I sprang for the bass seat to see what was the matter,

Away to the shad frenzy our boat flew like a flash,

Cast into the melee with some quick flash and dash,

The moon on the water glowed like fresh fallen snow,

Giving threadfin shad a luster to big bass below,

When what to my wife's waking eyes should appear,

But a fast-moving bass boat pulled by Evinrude deer.

With a little old angler, so lively and so quick,

I knew in a moment that it must be Bass Nick,

More rapid than eagles his lures they all came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name,

"Now Dasher, now Dancer worm, now walk-the-dog Vixen,

On rattlin' jig! On drop shot! On spoons he was Blitzen,

To the top of the water, down to a giant shad ball,

Now fish away, fish away, fish away all!

As schools of silver shad swim hither and nigh,

When meeting with structure they bump and they fly,

With the boat full of lures and Bass Nicholas, too,

And then in a twinkling, I hear crossing the lake,

Deer were pulling the bass boat, for goodness sake,

As I turned on the bass seat and was looking around,

Down the dock ole Bass Nick had cast with a bound,

He was dressed in fur shorts, plus a big bright red cap,

And his clothes were all tarnished from fish he would zap.

A bundle of fishing rods hung on the crimson bass sleigh,

He laughed like a school kid on vacation to play,

His eyes how they twinkled, surface dimples were so merry,

His lures were red as roses, his fishin' poles were all cherries,

His troll motor was drawn up as he shouted ho, ho, ho,

And the skirt of his spinnerbait was white as the snow,

The butt of his rod was held tight as a wreath,

And the circling shad made him cast underneath.

His lure had a round face, with a treble for the belly,

That shook when he worked it, like a creel full of jelly,

The lure was so chubby and plump, a right jolly fish elf,

And I laughed when he worked it in spite of myself,

With the wink of a drop shot from the floating bass sled,

Soon gave us to know the bass had something to dread,

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his spinners,

And filled all his sled bags with tournament winners.

And casting the Senko aside a great rocky nose,

And flicking his rod, so the hook did arose,

He then sprang to the sled seat, put motor in gear,

And down the lake he flew like speeding reindeer,

But I heard him exclaim, ere he zoomed out of sight,

Merry fishing to all, catch great memories tonight!