More Than Just a Piece of Plastic

The author and his son.

By Blaine Matray

My family was in the midst of opening presents and the calamity of a typical Christmas morning. Buried amidst the pile of shredded wrapping paper and bows was the smallest, yet last of the gifts--MINE!

I tore through the wrapping paper like I was a child again, only to be brought back to reality by what my eyes beheld--a Bass Pro Shops gift card. My kids howled with laughter, wishing me a Merry Christmas and hours of fun with my piece of plastic, with the misunderstanding that a gift was useless unless it had batteries in it.

I was thankful for the gift card, content in putting it into my pocket and spending valuable time with my wife and kids the rest of Christmas Day.

Months passed, and I forgot that I even had my gift card. It was summer, and warm evenings brought opportunities to get outside and fish farm ponds around Oklahoma...the best time to put that simplistic piece of plastic to use.

With minimal convincing, my son, Mason, deemed it necessary we head to Bass Pro Shops to pick up new tackle to ensure successful fishing. We spent what seemed like an eternity in Oklahoma City looking at the essentials that every father and son should have in their tackle boxes.

We scoured over aisles and aisles of Biffle O's, Hula Poppers, floating Rapalas, Jitterbugs, and plastic worms in every color of the rainbow. Each different lure brought a memory of mine to light, potentially helping my son understand the depth of how largemouth bass can change a person's life forever.

Calm June winds one evening brought an opportunity for Mason and me to get out and put our new lures to the proverbial test. We had access to our friends' aluminum boat, so we took full advantage of the fishing endeavor.

As we motored out to our first spot on the pond, my son asked, "What should we fish, Dad?"

I gave him the autonomy he so desired at age 7 and replied, "The water is warm, so the bass will be more active than spring. What do you think, Son?"

We recently had read a feature in the Sunday Oklahoman about the Biffle O and its tournament success. The Biffle O it was. Having never fished the lure, Mason assertively convinced me to follow his lead.

The poor bass never had seen anything like that lure. We lost count of the fish we caught and released. As the sun began to set that evening, I introduced my son to the art of topwater plugs. We both tied on Hula Poppers and cast toward the weed edges near the bank.

I was in the midst of explaining to Mason about letting the motion rings dissipate away from the popper when the unimaginable happened--WHAM! The water exploded from below, and a monster bass flew out of the water higher than the edge of the boat.

We both momentarily froze in disbelief before coming to our senses. I set the hook as he ran with the Hula Popper and handed the rod to my son. "Your turn, Mason," I told him.

Mason grabbed the rod and held on for his dear life. "Keep your rod tip up, up, up!" I exclaimed. "That bass is going to make a run under the boat." The monster shot under the boat as my son kept fighting.

With one last pass, the bass blasted out of the water again, revealing its imposing yellow eyes and shook the Hula Popper right out of its mouth into the boat. It came to rest right between my son and me. We both stared at each other in utter disbelief. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, we simultaneously erupted into laughter.

It was at that moment that I realized how special that gift card from my wife really was. That simple little gift card had transformed itself into the greatest Christmas present a father could have ever asked for--a priceless moment with his son that undoubtedly would last forever.

The author is a distinguished multiple award-winning senior sales executive with more than 23 years of successful biopharmaceutical/pharmaceutical sales experience in Blanchard, OK.