When Did He Become a Better Fisherman Than Me?

When Did He Become a Better Fisherman Than Me?

By Timothy J. Stewart

I meant to be there for all the important events in his life.  I was there when he was conceived.  I was there when he was born.  I was there for his first step and the first time he rode a bicycle without training wheels.  Then, I got busy..

I don’t remember the first important event that I missed (probably because I wasn’t there), but once I missed one, it seemed like I was missing them all.  It wasn’t like I planned to miss his birthday.  I had commitments I had to complete.  After all, I gave him nicer presents when I missed something, so why should he mind.

Then came the day when I realized how busy I had become.  I looked at my thirteen year old son and it hit me.  Here was a commitment that I had been overlooking for some time.  I had better take some time for him before it was too late.

“Son,” I said.  “Would you like to go fishing?”  I had been an excellent fisherman growing up and knew that this was an art I should pass on to my son.  I wanted to be there when he learned how to fish.

“Sure , if you have the time,” he responded unenthusiastically.

“Well, I am making the time right now,” I announced.  “Let’s go.”

“Dad,” he started off slowly.  “You always said that things like this need to be planned.  You would get mad at me if I just walked up and said, ‘let’s go fishing’, without a plan.”

“I’ve got a plan,” I fudged on the truth.

“Well,” he said as he stared at me waiting to hear the plan.

“We grab our poles, we buy some bait and we go to the big water and catch fish,” I proudly stated.

“Dad,” my son began sounding like I must have whenever I would start to lecture him.  “You haven’t been fishing in ten years.  The lines on your poles all need replacing.  You don’t know what kind of fish are biting in the ’Big Water’ so you don’t know what type of bait to buy.  And as for going now, didn’t I hear mom say something about a dentist appointment this morning.”

“How’s next Saturday for you?” I asked.

“Fine, Dad,” he said.  “Is there anything I can do to help get ready?”

“Sure,” I responded.  “Here’s ten dollars.  Would you buy some line for my poles and get them ready, please.”

“I need twenty, and you need a license,” he stated with an authority that belied his age.

“I knew that,” I said as I gave him the money and escaped the room with what was left of my self respect.

I was dumbfounded.  I didn’t know whether I should go back in the room and chastise him for insubordination or do what he said.  Unfortunately, he had been right, so I did it.

I spent the next week finding out where and what kind of fish were biting.  I went to the bait shop and got my license.  I went to the library to refresh my memory on fishing knots and other technical data.  I spent as much time preparing for this fishing trip as I had for any of my recent business meetings.  By Friday morning, I was ready.  The plan was all in place.  My son had taught me a valuable lesson.  Be prepared.

The workday was almost over when my supervisor stepped into my office.  “We need you to fly to Baltimore this weekend,” he stated and started to leave.

For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice.  I had to say something before he was gone.

“I can’t go!” I shouted.  I was dead.

He turned around, with a smile on his face.  “I know,” he said and motioned for someone to come to my office.

My thirteen year old son stood there with this sheepish grin on his face.  Set up by a teenager.  When did my son get a personality?  He had never done anything like this before.  Why didn’t somebody tell me he was growing up.

I am glad that I decided to take this time to spend with him.  At least I would be the one to teach him how to fish.  Wrong again.  I am going to summarize the trip like this.  My son informed me, through actions instead of words, that he was going to grow up whether I was there or not.  He caught fish after fish.  I lost two expensive lures before he tied the knot for me.  He directed me to the hot spots and looked away when I missed strike after strike. 

When did my son become a better fisherman than me?  When did he learn to tie a knot and cast with an open face reel?  Was it when I was in Toronto learning about software or in Mississippi closing a deal?  While I was putting in overtime, was he putting in quality time; without me?  Was I too late?  Was he too early?  I’ve got to catch a fish.

Then, it happened.  The strike of a lifetime.  The pole didn’t bounce like a bass or a trout.  It went down, all the way down.  And, stayed there.  The line started spinning off my reel.  Thank God my son had me turn down the tension on the brake.  The line kept going and going and going. 

Finally, as I thought that I was going to run out of line, the monster began slowing down.  Then, it stopped.  ‘Keep the tip up and tension on the line,’ I thought to myself over and over.  I had lost all focus on everything but this fish.  I had to land this baby.  I began to slowly reel the fish in.  It took the better part of an hour to get the fish to the shore.  I survived many other runs before I was looking at the largest Musky I had ever seen in my life.  As the fish lay on the shore, sides heaving, lidless eyes staring, I caught my breath.

My son looked at me.  “What do you say we let him go?” he said quietly.

“Let him go!” I almost yelled.  “Son, that is a trophy.  He should be hanging on the wall.”

“Dad,” my son looked at me.  “That is a wonderful fish.  But it is so much more than that.  It is something for us to share.  It can be our secret.  So many people tell so many fish stories, that everyone knows that none of them are true.  This can be our fish.  Our secret.  It’s something that we can have between us and no one else.”

“Can I at least take a picture of it?” I asked with pure admiration for my son.

“Sure, dad, but you can’t show anyone for ten years,” he said.

“Deal,” I said as I reached for the camera.

Algebra of Relationships

Coach Papa-Controlled Burn - Getting the Weeds out of your Life

A video tribute to 9/11 by Tim Stewart/Coach Papa

If by Rudyard Kipling - Recited by Coach Papa

The Bag of Marbles

A man had lost his job.  He had an interview for a new job, but traffic kept him from making the appointment.  The lottery ticket he bought that day didn't even win.  He was having a bad day.

After dinner, he went for a walk along the beach.  As he strolled along, barefoot in the sand, with the sun setting in the West, his foot struck something.  He reached down and picked it up.  It was a small bag full of marbles.  "Just my luck," he thought.

Then, he had an idea. He took a marble out of the bag and tossed it into the sea as he said, “This for that stupid job.  I didn't like that job anyway.”

“That felt good,” he said as he took out the second marble. "This is for traffic.  I hate traffic."

“That felt really good,” he said as he grabbed the next one.

This went on for the better part of an hour. In the beginning, the marbles went pretty fast. As he was getting to the bottom of the bag, he really had to think. But, over the course of that hour, he had let go of all of the things that had been holding him back.  He had two marbles left. He took one of them in his hand and said, “Here is for all of the good choices I am going to make going forward in my life." He threw that marble as hard as he had ever thrown anything in his life. As he heard in plunk in the water, he decided to keep the last marble as a memory of this night. He had not felt so good in a long time. He had thrown all of his troubles into the sea and he was ready for a new beginning. He put the marble in his pocket and went home with a new bounce in his step.

At home, his wife noticed a difference in him right away. She asked, "What have you been up to?"

He smiled and took the marble out of his pocket and showed it to her. He was going to tell her how he threw all of his troubles into the sea and he was ready for a fresh start.

Before he could say a word, she said, “What a beautiful Pearl. Where did you get it?”

He looked at his hand. He was, in fact, holding an absolutely beautiful pearl. A pearl that would change their lives, forever. He sold the pearl and paid all of their debt and did get that new beginning. From time to time he thought about that walk along the beach. His old self would have been full of self pity for all the pearls he threw away. His new self knew that is was the best walk he had ever taken.

There three morals to this story:

The first moral is:

What looks like a bag of marbles may be a bag of pearls -  These pearls are your friends and your family.  Your clients and your referral partners.  Your neighbors and anyone else you associate with.  Are you shining these pearls and wearing them proudly.  Or, are you throwing them away one by one?

The second moral is:

When you let go of your troubles good things will happen to you.  So many people are focused on all of the negative situations around them and they never see the amazing world that is right in front of them.

And, finally, the most important moral of this story is:

When you bring home a pearl to mamma, she will be happy.  And, when mamma is happy, nothing else matters.

Communication

Do you really want to reach out and catch your dreams?

Then, you must learn how to communicate. Good communication skills are the center of every successful
relationship. Bad communication skills are involved in every failure.  Most of the problem with  communicators is not that they do not know what to say. It is that they do not know how to say it. Something pops into their mind falls immediately out of their mouth.

Effective communication is the secret to getting what you want out of life. To be effective, the communication has to be honest, sincere and open. It has to be well thought out in advance. It has to be arranged with the receiver in mind. A wise man once told me the secret to successful communication. He was not a wise man when he told it to me. Actually, he was probably the opposite in my eyes at that time. You see, the wise man was my father. When I was a teenager, he did not know near as much as he knows now.

What he told me was this, “Tell people what they want to hear. This will make them listen to you. Then, while they are listening, tell them what they need to hear.” I asked him one day where he learned this profound bit of knowledge. He said he picked it up by watching politicians. They do it all the time.

Think about this the next time you are going to communicate. It does not matter if it is a one on one situation or if you are speaking to an audience. Take the time to learn and understand what you listeners want to hear. Next, think about what you want them to hear. Then, plan your communication so that it all of this information is included. Finally, follow up with them to ensure that what they think you said is actually, what you meant to communicate. Communicate effectively and you will be getting even closer to achieving your dreams.

Now, get off the bench and get into the game.

Coach Papa