Bob called the next day. I'd gotten enough writing done that morning, and it being summer and me being in school, I didn't have much planned. He said that he was going to be fishing in the river, in the same spot, if I wanted to come down.
Now I was coy. "I don't know," I said. "Maybe."
But I finished my run at the river. Bob smiled big when he saw me.
He wanted to teach me how to fish. I did not want to learn how to fish and demurred, but still, he kept wanting to show me where the critters were likely to be hiding out, how you can tell by the riffles in the water, showing me the rhythmic motion from 10 to 2 o'clock as you let the fly alight. I already knew this. I lived in Missoula; I'd read "A River Runs Through It".
"What I'd really like," I told him, "is to learn to throw a baseball." I throw like a girl. I hate that about myself.
[Photo Via: AP]