JACK WOLLITZ Size is in the eyes of the beholder

So, who says fishing is a contemplative sport, best pursued as a non-competitive activity?
Sure, we love the peace and quiet, the natural beauty of the great outdoors, and the get-away-from-it-all attitude that settles over anglers during a satisfying day on the water.
But make no mistake, for all the altruistic thoughts angling purists would offer up as reasons why fishing should not be a competitive sport, there are times when two people will compare their catches and square off in defense of their performances.
That's competition, and it's inevitable whenever two people are fishing within casting distance of each other.
And it's fun, too.
Fishing with spouse
These points were made crystal clear last weekend when my wife, Barb, and Ifished the Ohio River. We launched the boat in East Liverpool and ran down river 10 miles toward the New Cumberland dam.
Our afternoon started with Barb content to enjoy the sunshine while I perched on the bow, one foot on the electric trolling motor to guide the boat around the targets to which I was casting a spinnerbait.
I hoped to trick a bass or two and soon enough found a sub-keeper smallmouth bass. The fish was a perfect mini-replica, almost like a work of art compared to an adult smallie.
As the afternoon wore on, several more smallmouths slashed at the lure, while Barb continued to be satisfied as an observer. It was a pretty day and the river was unusually void of boat traffic, just the ticket for a little rest and relaxation.
The sun was slipping over the high bluff that towers over Route 7 below East Liverpool when we settled down on the day's last stop. It's a rock-strewn flat on an outside channel bend. The flat is shallow, but drops off into deep water quickly.
A good spot
It turned out to be a good spot for a 14-inch smallmouth bass to be cruising for dinner. The fish couldn't resist the chartreuse spinnerbait as it bumped one of the rocks.
"Now we're talking," Barb said from her seat at the back of the boat.
She'd resisted making even one cast for the past several hours, but that bass provided the inspiration she needed to get her arm in motion.
After about five slings with her own spinnerbait, she connected with another nice smallmouth. The fish jumped several times and bulldogged at the side of the boat in the fashion that is characteristic of smallies. We finally subdued the fish, unhooked it and held it in admiration for a moment.
An instant after I released the bass, Barb proclaimed how nice it was to catch a fish. But not just any fish, mind you. She declared her bass to have been bigger than mine.
Of course, there was no way of proving her claim. Both of the fish were back in the river, probably sulking in a shady corner somewhere out there, embarrassed they had been fooled by our lures.
I've seen hundreds and hundreds of smallmouth bass. I can tell their size pretty well without measuring them. And I knew mine was the better of our two fish.
So I politely stated my case.
She laughed. "Yea, sure, if that's what you want to believe," she said.
Cell phone bragging
The banter continued as we towed toward home up Route 11. She even made a cell phone call to our daughter and stated she'd caught a fish bigger than dad's.
No matter. We can't prove the case either way.
So like I said at the top of this story: Who says there's no room for competitiveness in fishing? Two anglers will always compare their catches. It's inevitable. And it's fun.
It gives us a way to measure our performance and everybody wants to be the winner when it comes to comparisons.
So don't tell Barb I mentioned this, but I do know mine was bigger.
jwwollitz@aol.com