Fly fishing has been called the sport of kings. My grandfather was a fine fly fisherman for many years and he instilled in me a sense that the sport was the ultimate challenge. Others have used it as a tool to show how cultured and sporting they are. It does take a fair bit of skill and determination to master the techniques involved. Much has changed through out the years as fly fishing has changed and grown. I don’t think it was quite ready however to handle the idea of a guy like me taking it up as a hobby.

I can just picture two distinguished gentleman sitting around a fine home somewhere. Nigel and Ian would be there names and I can just hear Nigel saying you feel that Ian?  Feel what my good man? Ian replied I sense a disturbance in the force like some grubby nutter is fondling a poor unsuspecting fly rod.  That conversation probably took place the day I decided to start fly fishing. Because while I respect its tradition and honor it’s past, I have no issue with making it something uniquely mine. That means screaming a giant fuck you at yuppie buggers who seem to think that the sport is still only for the elite of this world. That you must be of a certain class to dare cast a finely made fly rod. While that sentiment isn’t common among all fly fishermen, it’s present in enough of them to piss me off. So being me I make it my mission to fuck with people like that.

There is nothing I like better than ruining a prick like that’s day. They are utter shit heads and easy to spot. The usually drive Volvo’s or Audis and have the best equipment money can buy. Then generally haven’t a fucking clue how to use any of it well, but by god it’s the fucking best and that’s what matters. Mean while here I come rolling in looking like some fucked up rolling circus just glad to be out on the water. My equipment is far from the best, but it fucking works well. As the saying goes its not the type of rod, but how you use the it. They may never say a word, but one look at my out of place ass always at least gets a curled lip or turned up nose.  This is when the real fun begins.

The simplest way is to simply out fish the bastards. Like anything else fisherman measure their manhood in how many fish they caught and how big they are. Usually these clowns will pass up on spots that may be difficult to work. That would be the first place I head as I know damn well there is a monster fish hanging out in the hard to fish spots. Nothing beats the look on a snobby pricks face when you pull the fish out of a life time out of a spot they passed up. Well a fish of a lifetime to them, shit it’s just another day on the water to guys like me. It’s much easier to catch fish when you aren’t worried about looking the part and more concerned with actually catching fish. The second best way to fuck with them is before you even hit the water.

Usually there is a parking spot everybody has to share. Step on is to pull up just cranking old punk or heavy metal music. Nothing say getting back to nature like early Metallica being played at ear shattering volumes. Step two is fuck the bathroom changing in front of everybody. Just drop your pants and switch to your waders. It really makes people stare in awe of how fucking classless you are. Actually dress is really important to consider when fucking with purists. I recommend a going with loud clothing, something along the lines of a Hawaiian print shirt and a nice brightly colored booney hat. Make damn sure your fly vest and wader have been drug behind a truck for days on end. If that doesn’t have people fleeing the area there is one more thing you can do to just completely disgust them. Start swilling cheap beer the minute you head out to fish. I normally hat Budweiser, but it’s perfect in this situation. Matter of fact; take the damn cooler with you. Just stuff it into an inner tube and leash it to you leg. The feeling you get from sickening asssholes like this is utterly amazing.  Because these Cabela’s outfitted, Volvo driving fucks just don’t get it.

It’s not about the brand of gear you use or the cost of your rod, not by a long fucking shot. It’s about just getting out there and enjoying the beauty of nature. From the water you fish, to the scenery surrounding it. Hell the fish themselves are beautiful creatures that you should have a healthy respect for. They are a worthy adversary that can make you look like total fool in a heart beat. It’s not important how many fish you caught at the end of the day. It’s important that win, lose or draw you had the time of your life just being out on the water putting your skills and patience to the test. Fucking yuppie bastards piss me off so much and they just ruin perfectly good spots cocking it up with their wine and cheese antics.

Category: Sports | Tags: bastards, elite, fishing, fly, fun, missing, passion, point, snobs, stupid, the, up, yours // 4 Comments »