Dad who got that fly ball? Father answers, number eight CAUGHT that infield hit, pal. Heâs your fave remember, heâs the shortstop. And youâre my shortstop, got it? Yeah dad, I got it. Then the rod started to bend.
Now, I know the biggest walleye I ever saw was fourteen inches. The kids eyes couldnât have been bigger and that fish in his little hands looked massive with a two fisted grip. The fishing line was drooling away from the Walters jaw with a chartreuse jig, twister tail and chomped minnow remains.
The little bugger didnât want to set the fish down. When he did, he drops down on both knees into the boats carpeted deck. One dry docked walleye was really getting some appreciation. His dad undid the jig and Jr. wanted to just sit and hold his catch. So we let him.
This is your average little boy with a life jacket that is something heâs supposed to grow into for size. The vest is legal, but maybe a tad large. Finally his fish goes into the aerated live well and it becomes the onboard aquarium. Dad and I are happy for young son.
He doesnât want to fish anymore right now, he just wants to watch it swim and flare its gills. His little face is a smeared grin. Two little Red wind whipped cheeks couldnât look or make you feel any better.
Kinda cool how just one walleye makes you remember, how one walleye, is so special. Fingers go into the live well and dad issues a warning. We get the newest member of the Minnesota angling club rigged back up, but he just keeps lifting the live well lid.
Right then, for just a moment, I didnât want him to catch another fish during our day. I knew it wasnât a wall hanger, or a mounter, but it should have been. I think back now in what a mistake it was to keep fishing instead of just heading for the taxidermist.
We got plenty of pictures after the boat was tied up for the day and then I wasnât sure exactly which was his first fish. I let dad dig the fish out of water for his posed into forever photo. Then we stringered the mess and took some more.
One picture shows two big goofy looking guys with camo hats and one whipper snapper of a young boy whose arms are stretched so big to try and hold up his end of the deal. Nick Punto, number eight, of the Minnesota Twins would be proud of whose wearing his cap today.