I'm Da Man! I'll Show Ya How To Git 'Er Done!

That appeared to be the attitude with which an angler was approaching a California Federation 6 event on Otay. In the final analysis, though, reality didn't match up with expectations. Here's what happened...in his own words.

“I was itching to get on this lake, because it was set up to fish like I did back in Alabama. I thought I was gonna be da man. I put on my kick-some-butt gear and was pumped up, ready to go when we got our partner draws. The front-seater decided we were gonna hit some bullrush stands and do some sight fishing. With my being da man, I was gonna flip a jig and throw a lipless crankbait in boat lanes. Skipping ahead…

“I hung a Red-Eyed Shad in a bullrush stand, but it wasn’t very far back—not since I was fishing a 7-foot cranking stick. I didn’t tell the front-seater cause—after all—I am da man. I could get it without any help. I cranked down to it and only needed 2 more inches. Looking at the emergency ladder, I thought, ‘Self, if you just lean on that ladder, you’ll be able to get that sexy shad back.’

“So, I listened to self. I stepped for the ladder, but as soon as my big toe hit it, the ladder collapsed, and my momentum carried me out of the boat. I was facing the water as I headed out but, at some point, was able to turn toward the boat. I went in back first, inhaled some water, and was coughing and snotting in this 65-degree water.

“My partner looked back at me, soaking wet and hanging off the back with my hat and sunglasses still on. One foot was under the boat, my left leg was hung in the ladder, and I was tangled in two rods, with that sexy shad stuck in my left hand and a Texas-rigged sweat beaver stuck in the right. My partner and the guys in a competing boat asked if I was OK.

“Still being da man, I laughingly hollered out, ‘Yeah, if you can get the jig out of my hand and grab this rod, I can pull myself back up.’ At that moment, however, there was an explosion, and I was surrounded by a bright yellow mass, which was the Mustang preserver I had on. It had decided to inflate.

“I fished the majority of the rest of that day in a rainsuit and ended up in 11^th place. I eventually lost my Red-Eyed Shad when I threw one h*** of a backlash in my line. Ya gotta love to go fishin’.”

After the fact, accounts such as this tend to be funny, and we can laugh at them with ease. As they're happening, though, it's a fairly safe bet that most victims probably don't find the situations very amusing at all. One thing is certain: We've all been in similar predicaments and have the T-shirts--and perhaps a few scars--to prove it.