What Did You Learn Today?

That's the question a dad asked his son on a couple of occasions during a bass-fishing trip one hot afternoon in August. Figuring the fish would be in cooler water, the father pointed the john boat toward an old, partly submerged fence line shaded by willow trees on the familiar farm pond's bank.

In unison, both father and son made casts in the direction of a fence post and let their Texas-rigged worms sink to the bottom. Almost simultaneously, they felt taps on their lines. The boy reared back to set the hook, but his effort was met with the unwavering firmness of the rusty fence. He instantly and hopelessly knew he was hung. Meanwhile, his father hooked a small one and quickly brought it to the boat. Just after he released the fish and began retying his line, he swiveled toward the boy.

"There for a second, I thought we had ourselves a double. What happened, son?" the dad playfully teased. "Didn't you learn anything when I expertly landed that brute?"

"I must've missed it, Dad," said the youngster. "Or maybe it was so small I just couldn't see it. Now can we go fetch my line?"

The boy's old man eventually obliged and eased the little boat to the fence. After many jiggles and a few mighty pulls, the son finally popped his hook free. The plastic worm, however, was gone.

"I knew it!" said the young man. "No doubt a 10-pounder wrapped me around the fence--as the big ones often do. Anyone can catch small fish, Dad. If you're not gettin' hung, you're not fishin' for the big ones like I do."

The boy's father grinned at his young 'un's well-rehearsed trash talk and pointed the Minn Kota toward another spot.

"Well," piped the father, "anyone can get lucky and hook a big 'un. It's the landing part that separates the men from the boys. By the way, son, you better check your line. I'll bet it's frayed like dental floss from all that fence ropin' you've been do..."

Before the father could finish his statement, the boy already had made a cast and hooked a fish. Moments later, the young fisherman reeled in a little bass that couldn't have weighed more than a pound.

"That 'un will probably go at least three!" declared the youngster.

"I'd say more like six!" crowed his father.

The pair caught fish, drank Cokes, and joked with each other for the rest of the afternoon like they usually did. As they neared the dock at dusk, the boy skipped his topwater close to the bank and gave it a chug. Suddenly, the water exploded as a behemoth bass inhaled his Pop-R and ran toward deeper water. The boy's face showed panic, as he tried to stop the fish by tightening his drag, but just as he did, the fish turned and shot toward the surface.

"Get the net!" the youngster screamed to his father, as they saw a boil and caught a glimpse of the head on the enormous largemouth right alongside the boat. The father already had the landing net in the water, and for a brief moment, there was joy and pandemonium...until they both heard a sickening pop and saw the line go limp.

The boy lurched back in his seat and reeled in his empty line that had snapped just above the hook. He slammed his rod down in frustration and slumped over with his hands on his hat. He almost wanted to cry.

"Son," said his father, who still was holding the net in the water, "did you learn anything today?"

"Please, Dad," he said, "I don't need a lecture right now."

"Just tell me one thing you learned...quickly son."

"Dang it, Dad! I should've checked my line for frays when you said to," the young 'un said flatly.

"Nope!" said his father, hoisting the bulging net over the side of the boat. In the bottom of it lay a bass of at least seven pounds, which slung water everywhere. "You should've learned that when it comes to landing fish, your ol' daddy is da man!"