Welcome back to Three-Word Thursday, where Fish Hack is still waiting word from the Smithsonian guys as to whether they want to accept my donation of the sport coat I wore the day I interviewed for this-here racket at the Fish Wrap.
It is, after all, historic garb: It’s what I wore the day I officially killed my career.
Historic. Rewind. Nipple.
The fact that the heads of the national museum turned O.J. down for his acquittal suit didn’t come without a counter-proposal from Fish Hack. Perhaps the Smithsonian is more interested in the only suit in which anyone wants to remember Orenthal James…the orange jumpsuit that rocks his current wardrobe.
The Hall of Fame’s most infamous felon finds his way into Three-Word Thursday because today’s theme is about where were you when history happened.
Those of you too old to use Twitter remember the moment you learned JFK was shot. The rest of us can’t shake the moment we learned Challenger went fireball.
And no one shall forget where we learned Simpson got to play the worst-placed “Get Out of Jail Free” card since … umm, EVER.
But not even The Juice can eclipse what us Northwest fish-whackers can never forget – the day we turned the first Northwest salmon’s eyes into X’s.
And it never got uglier than this.
Rewind to August 1986. Coos Bay. Pre-Fish Hack (just a Hack not writing about fish then) loads a yellow Roostertail on a cheesy spinning rod to fish for the coho jumping all over Coos Bay. No boat. No waders. No boots, even.
So I shimmy out a wooden piling and start casting. Third cast and, whack, there’s a coho. Battle the bastard for about 5 minutes, and then it gets weird.
No net. Some dude in a driftboat rows over, puts my coho under his oar blade and flicks it toward me.
I catch my coho, still with the Roostertail in its mouth, in my right arm and pin it against my chest.
The thing goes ape-crap and thrashes around before it takes a bite OUT OF MY LEFT NIPPLE.
I start punching its head with my right fist, and finally it lets go. Not until it yanks a hole and bleeds all over the front of a blue sweater my grandma knitted me.
Haven’t washed that sweater since. Still has that original hole, too.
Got the DNA of my first salmon addition to Fish Hack’s Biomass Footprint that day.
Do you have yours?
Some of you must have good First Salmon or First Steelhead stories that rival this one.
Weigh in and let’s see where the discussion goes.

HAIKU MONDAY: On Avatar, Rupert and Hack’s Expense Account
Welcome back to Haiku Monday, where Fish Hack is sharing some Oscar love with James Cameron.
OK. So This-here cyber blog has got virtually nothing to do with Avatar. But, as fellow NewsCorp employees, we fill out the exact same expense accounts.
Avatar?Fish Hack?/Can’t consider us the same./Hack can’t out-gr0ss Jim.
You remember Haiku Monday. Fish Hack busts out a few non-rhymes in Japanese poetry fashion. Three lines…five syllables, then seven syllables, then five.
It’s barely rocket science. Just Hack being a hack.
Avatar didn’t rock like we expected at the Oscars…us being homes rooting for the NewsCorp holdings that range from Avatar to this-here blog.
Fish Hack’s soul is owned by Rupert. So Haiku Monday is a homage to The Dude.
B.S poetry?/Sounds like Fish Hack’s main mantra./Can’t we do better?
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