If This Truck Could Talk

As I was sitting at a red light this afternoon, I happened to notice the annual log on my truck -- 41,540.7 miles within the last year.  Not too shabby for a 22 year old college student.  I started reminiscing on all of the tournaments and lakes that this truck has taken me to, and I couldn't help but smile.  This truck could tell some stories.

This truck has seen it all.  It has seen me at both my best and worst times, and with every revolution of its tires I have become one step closer to my dreams.  It has been with me through many, many phone calls to companies, mentors, and editors.  It has heard my frustration in dealing with once-potential sponsors, my question-rich dialogue with professional anglers, and both good and bad ideas being pitched to editors. 

It has seen mechanical failures, boat keys flying off of my front deck into the road, my trailer bearings blowing out of the back of the hub, and dodged many a late-night deer.  I would love to know how many times this truck has crossed the Georgia line.

When it comes to tournaments, this truck has had its steering wheel punched when I've gotten my rear end handed to me.  It has felt my pain as I've paid my dues, and heard the disappointment and pain in my voice when I've called home to tell my family, "I just couldn't get 'em today".  

It has also seen the "private" fist pumps and smiles when I've won tournaments.  It has seen the anticipation I've exuded while fumbling for my cell phone to call my ever-supportive family, and heard the excitement in my voice and felt the trembling in my hands after I won my first major tournament.  This truck could write a book. 

This truck has been my home at the times when I've felt farthest from it.  Its speakers have cranked out all genres of late night music to make sure my eyes have stayed open, and its windows have heard my ill-fated attempts to sing like my favorite country singers.  This truck has heard the doubts attempting to cross my mind, and many late night calls to my buddies back home just to talk. 

Most importantly, this truck has witnessed my development and maturation not only as an angler, but as a man.  On its driver's side visor, a piece of paper with Matthew 6:33 scribbled onto it gives me hope and strength in my toughest, most trying times -- "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well".

I can only hope that the Good Lord allows me to put even more miles on my truck this upcoming year.  I am a lucky man, and I won't stop driving until I reach my goals. 


Good Fishing!