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A basketball player would never tire of remembering a Chalmers-esque game-saving shot. A golfer would certainly enjoy reliving in his or her mind a hole-in-one. And a tennis player would no doubt find most enjoyable the recollection of a drop shot that bounced one inch off the court and died.
I’m just happy remembering my eight-flounder day.
It’s mid-April, I haven’t caught a fish since Feb. 27 and I’m going through major withdrawal. My two scrap-devouring kitty cats aren’t very happy with me either.
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