What Michael Copperman’s Fishing Lessons Reveal About Life Will Surprise You
I looked over at Uncle Bill, and he nodded. I knew I could be strong—every day at recess, I fought bullies. In gym, I was a boy who could run until I puked, who could beat the other boys because pain was mere to me compared to losing. I’d always thought this was not enough, because it never seemed to be. But as that hook pushed back through my finger, I made no sound, though Uncle Bill had gone white, his hands shaking so bad that he shook me. The snap of the pliers clipped the barb, and again I made no sound as the curved hook was drawn back through both sides and Uncle Bill let out a moan.
