LookBack #4: “The Race”

Between the 2 of us in the minivan, I’M the fishing expert…

…yep.

It is 5:20am, it seems that like golf balls fish get up early. We are driving to a big arse boat called the MiJoy 747 parked, er docked, in/near Waterford, Connecticut, and there we are going to meet a bunch of guys from the Danbury Rod & Reel fishing club who quite possibly think we know how to fish.

We don’t.

When I was first asked to do this story the email asked me, “Would you like to go to the race and try to snag some strippers.”

I responded, “No thanks I’m married, going to a race would be cool but I don’t fool around on my wife or go to strip clubs.”

This is exactly what came back: “?”

Turns out some spell it “strippers” some spell it “stripers” but either way it’s a fish and the only pole involved…is a fishing pole.

Who knew.

So when I tell Bob at lunch I’m going striPer fishing at something called THE RACE this is what he says, “Can I come along.”

Hence he is in the passenger seat of the minivan, hence we are stopped and looking at a black cat that just walked in front of the vehicle and Bob is pointing at it and saying nothing, just pointing.

I pop a few Dramamine and just keep my eyes on the road, not the cat, I know a sign from God when I see one.

Bob is still pointing at the cat.

“Hello I’m Captain Paul Brockett…”

…and then he just smiles.

So we say hello and smile back.

“I’m Joe.”

We turn around to meet Joe, the 1st Mate, we say to Joe which I’m is, Bob is one I’m, I’m the other I’m.

“We are heading out to The Race (mind you it is still dark, still morning, still a few hours before normal, up.) it’s 3 miles wide, 250-300 feet deep (mind you if you can’t swim anything deeper than your nose is high when you stand up is a problem) it is basically where the Long Island Sound meets the ocean, it is very deep, than very shallow, then very deep. We are headed to the Rip Line, it’s shallow there but the waves build up, very steep waves, 12 maybe 12 and a half feet. Every couple of years a boat or two will go down out there.”

Bob hears none of this.

I keep it that way.

And then, suddenly, the 85 foot boat somehow stops in the water…

…still sort of asleep I assume it’s another cat walking by, turns out, I was wrong…we are at, or on, The Race…and then…

…Now granted I’m still tired and still nervous about Bob since I promised all the bosses back at ESPN…

…that I would bring him back in “…fairly decent shape…” when suddenly in the middle of the Long Island Sound through the long lens on my camera I see A BUILDING POP UP…

…in the freakin’ Long Island Sound…huh…

“Pretty cool isn’t it…” the voice is coming from behind me, when I turn around I see several of the Danbury Dudes looking at the building in the water as well.

“…that’s a nuclear sub from the U.S. Sub base in Groton (Connecticut) there is a real deep channel under water out there that they use to come back and forth in.”

Back on land we get one last shot of our morning fishing buddies of the Danbury Rod and Reel dudes…

…and as I’m sitting on a dockside bench waiting for my Long Island Sound shaky legs to realize we are back on land, Rodger Sperling from the club collapses down next to me and says, “Man db, my shoulders, wrists, knees, back…they’re killing me. Dang it all, don’t you just love fishing.”

And behind him, Bob Ley, smiles.

Coming up Next Sunday!!!!