By Jane Smith

Hopefully, this is pure fiction but if the rain does not slow down over Florida, IT COULD BECOME REAL.

"Hey David" shouted Jack, "want to go fishing tonight at the Orlando race pond?" "Sure", David answered. "Let me make a few calls and the more the merrier. If nothing else, we can fish competitively. I heard they are catching some big ones at that hole"

David took out his trusted black race book and started checking to see who he should call to go fishing tonight. First, he called Dickie because he was always telling fish tales and he wanted to see just how big a fish he could catch. Then he called B.J. who was taught by the best to fish, his grandmom. Of course if B.J. came, the whole family would come along with Pete and Bobby. Next he would call James and Mike F. and Michael and Jimmy. Then to make it really sporty, he would call Barry, Travis, Brian, Morgan and Jonathan. And, of course, fishing would not be fishing without Don, Sandy, and Donnie and the Pierces. Then a judge had to be there to judge who did catch the biggest fish, now who could do that. Roland Martin of course, the great Florida fisherman.

As the guys started to gather round the asphalt banks of the fishing hole, a four foot gator swim right in front of them. "Now," Dickie said, "that is fun to catch. He will definitely give you a run for your money." "Now guys," Roland began, "there is only one gator so to make this contest fair, you have to catch FISH."

As the guys started taking out their fishing tackle and eyeing each other's poles, the fight began. "Hey Roland, Mike F. has bigger hooks than mine Is that fair or do we all need the same size hooks?" As Roland thought on the subject for a minute, he found enough of the same size hooks in his tackle and so to stop the arguing, he gave each fisherman the same size hook. "Now Jimmy, are you happy" laughed Roland.

Now being that these are race drivers and not really fisherman, how many knew what kind of bait to use and how to put the bait on the hook. In disgust Roland looks at each of the bank fishers and shakes his head. "What do you guys do all the time? Don't you know fishing is the best sport in the world. You babies can't even bait a fish hook. Shame, shame on you."

At that point, Roland presented the bait - worms and minnows. Either one would catch a fish, a big fish, if you have the patience to wait for that big bite. "Okay fellows, chose your bait and start your reels to working" commanded Roland. As the guys took their open face and closed faced reels and lifted them to cast them out, a cry was heard, "hey, his fishing line is thicker than mine."

Poor Roland, Florida's best known fisherman, was at a loss. "Okay guys, any size line will do. But it takes a Class A fisherman to land that big fish on four pound test line. If you think you can't do it, switch, get a bigger pound test but stop whinning." Roland cried out. "What does it take to get you guys lined up and ready to fish?"

Finally, all the guys had a line in the track hole each waiting to catch the biggest fish at Orlando. But little did they know that Don and Sandy had a head run on them because they knew where the big fish were hiding. Before all the rain came, there was a natural low spot on the track and this was where the big bass lay waiting for that minnow or worm to catch their attention.

As each fisherman pulled in their prize catch, it was funny but they all seemed about the same size. "Hey, maybe we can step on it and stretch it just alittle" said James to Jonathan. "Who would know if they don't catch us?" But James thought twice about it and decided he really didn't want to step on a fish to win.

As Roland measured each fish, a smile came upon that weathered face of his. "Hey fellas, you are all winners. Not one fish is bigger than another." "Oh well" said David, "how about we try the DeSoto hole next week??" And so went the fishing saga of the race drivers and crews and promoters of asphalt bank fishing.

Jane Smith



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