First time's the charm

I finally broke down and went fishing. It's a hard sell to stand on shore, knowing full well there isn't much chance of anything happening. But went I did, with the mud on my boots and pants to prove it. I didn't even have to tell my wife that I didn't catch anything. Even she knows better. I really only needed two reasons to get out - the first day above 50 degrees in weeks and an excuse to make sure my spinning gear was in working order. Check. And check. One of the great things about fishing at this time of year is that everybody is in the same boat. Fishing over the outlet below the Wings Mill dam, I walked past a fellow angler. He nodded and smiled, and I did the same. I then did what any self-respecting fisherman is taught to do at a very young age. "Any luck?" I asked. He laughed. "No, no," he said. "Not yet, anyway." That's the spirit, I thought. "Not yet." I liked that -- if hope springs eternal in, well, the spring, then fishermen are like baseball players. Never know when it could turn out to be your year.