|Sucks even more than usual to live out in Western PA|
Hopefully by the time you're reading this, I've already caught my limit of sloppy pig stockers with my buddy Mostel, however I happen to be writing this the night before Opening Day, so you'll need to deal with this unique commingling of past & present tense in the various time references.
Anyway, I love Opening Day. I love the crowds, I love the eager, yet sadly deformed fish, I love hanging out with old friends, all the things that turn a lot of serious anglers off...it's all good to me. I actually look forward to it so much, the only thing I can compare it to is being a kid on Christmas Eve and just knowing when you get up in the morning there's going to be a He-Man Castle Grayskull under the tree just waiting to be unwrapped.
My affection for Opening Day is really kind of silly when you think about it. I don't usually like to fish for stockies. Don't get me wrong, I'm no trout snob, it's just the water I like to fish usually isn't stocked. I've come to prefer fly fishing to other forms, however tomorrow I will instinctively reach for my spinning rod.
Finally, to confuse matters even more, there's not really an off-season in Pennsylvania. There's enough special regulation water where you can fish for trout year round - so the concept of Opening Day is almost irrelevant, I went trout fishing two weeks ago. Yet I still can't wait for tomorrow to come.
So tonight I sit...cranking out a hurried, somewhat random blog post that probably doesn't read well and likely contains multiple misspellings. But I don't care, because my thoughts are elsewhere. They are filling up my Plano tackle box with shiny new spinners of various designs, re-stringing my trusty Pflueger Trion reel, getting ready to go shoulder-to-shoulder combat fishing with worm dunkers, PowerBait plungers, and the random misplaced fly fisher. Opening Day in Pennsylvania is a celebration unlike any other...and it's also only a few short hours away.