Take it as a sign of good things to come. Back in July of '19, this happened to me twice from the bank. Two absolute slobs lost. I had waders on, but hadn't gone in yet, and slack line during the transition into the water doomed me. After the second time in a week, I put the hoodoo on myself by cooking up the idea that I was hereby cursed, and that this was a sign no big fish would be granted to me for the rest of the year. I chalked it up to some type of untraceable karmic vengeance. I'd been a jerk on occasion in the old days, so this made sense to me. By October of that year, I'd landed a freak, so perhaps I wasn't as bad as I'd imagined, or maybe I was simply being a superstitious moron. A similar thing happened 2 years ago, but I came out on top yet again. It 'aint over til it's over, brother. Keep the faith.