Early one foggy morning I was hip deep in my local bassing hole fishing a popper, having some luck and enjoying a beautiful morning. I brought in a nice 3 lber and just as I reached down to lip him he tossed his head and buried a treble in my middle finger. So i'm standing there with a three lber flopping wildly from the end of my finger and my first reaction is to put him down. I'm wading, so now he's in his element,you get the picture. Well, I finally get a hold of him and I'm standing there with the fish in one hand and my rod under my arm and the other hand hooked to the popper.
Great ,now what? I manage to get the fish gripped in the hand with the popper in it, but thats also the hip my pliers are on. I probably looked like some kinda nut tryin to get those pliers out of the sheath with my off hand but eventually i got em. Once the fish was off the hook things started looking a bit better although I still had a treble buried to the bend in my finger. I wasn't too hip on the idea of pushing it through, and it really wasn't hurting much so I opted to pull it straight out, it is really amazing how tenacious a fish hook can be. I can really relate to the fish now, you know when you really gotta twist and pry and pull to get a hook out once in awhile? The amazing thing after all that, it hardly bled more than a few drops and quit hurting right away. So ,after I stopped shaking, I went back to popping and had an enjoyable morning.
Alls well that ends well
