Last weekend seemed like it was turning out much like many of the recent weekends. Although it was a little warmer the wind was steady blowing and the prospects of getting out in my 15’ Whaler were just not looking very good. My son and I decided to head down to the neighborhood pond and try our luck. I was not really optimistic, we had fished the pond on a couple of occasions without much luck and I thought if nothing else he could get some casting practice in. We made some cast and he was really getting some nice accurate throws, when I felt a really nice strike and in came a nice largemouth bass in the 1-2 pound range. He immediately had a bite and pulled in a little catfish. We continued to work our way around the pond casting and he told me several times he had something, which all turned out to be structure on the bottom. Once again he called to me and told me he had something. Feeling certain he was snagged again, I looked over to see the rod doubled over and his line moving rapidly through the water. Making my way around the pond I grabbed his line to help pull the fish to the bank only to have the line ripped through my hand and a nasty line burn on my finger. I tried one more time to get the line and realized the fish was too large and he would need to play it and wear it down a little more. I went to tighten his drag and in the process I allowed some slack to get in the line and the hook and the fish parted ways.
While we were both a little upset that we lost, the fish the excitement in his voice and his description of the fight were something I will not forget. We never got a good look at the fish most of what we saw were the big wakes and boils form the tail as the fish fought to free himself. We were full of speculation about what it may have been, but I believe the story and guessing probably provide more excitement than actually catching the fish ever could have. I have a feeling that we may yet figure it out because my son is asking me if we can go down to the pond every cha