I normally would advocate for getting outside and going fishing in just about any situation you could present me, but this dude needs to take at least a year away from any body of water. I’m talking Dry Shampoo, I’m talking move to the fields of Kansas type of shit. Just absolutely heartbreaking. There is no number of bites that will make him forget about that rod slipping out of his finger tips and sinking below the ice. What a nearly heroic effort, only to watch the color of the rod slowly fade deeper and deeper into the dark hole of sadness. Surely that fish would have been what the kids these days might refer to as a “UNIT”. Small fish don’t barely escape by millimeters, only ones that would have changed your life.
From now until the end of time, if he catches a 52″ monster, he’ll remember that this one would have been a 54″.
Its an endless pit of haunting despair and waking up at 3AM thinking about what could have been.
He needs to go cold turkey or maybe come back in a couple years after his brain forgets he’s ever casted before. It might be too late for that, the answer might just be a fishing exorcism. Release the demons from his soul and let him forget.
I guess it always could be worse…