T Nation

The one that got away

Hey Everyone,
I’m just curious to hear other people’s “the one that got away” stories. I’m sure most of you have them…so lets hear them. Curious to know what’s your situation with this person at the current time also.

I’m short on time so I won’t post mine until later.

I’ve got a bunch, but the one I remember most was one day when a couple buddies and I were trolling a nearby lake. I had realed my Rapalla in before we turned and was dragging it through the water just off the side of the boat. It was fun to watch how the lure moved through the water.

I told my buddies to check it out, and said “If you were a fish, wouldn’t you want to eat that little bastard?”. Right about then a huge brown, probably in 8-12 lb range, came out of nowhere and ate my Rapalla. Snapped my 4# line off like it wasn’t even there and disappeared back to the deep.

We all just looked at each other with our mouths hanging open for a minute before someone asked “holy shit, did that really just happen?” I’ll never forget that one.

Or were you talking about something else?

Always a weird thing to think about when you are happily married to the one “that didn’t get away”.
If there was another that could have been the one it was a wonderful redheaded, energetic young lady named Laura. She was more of a best friend than anything else. Tall…well tall to me…long legs, fiery red hair, a giggly laugh, infectious bright smile and simple caring heart. She was dating someone (a jackass) and I was dating someone (tramp) and we became best buddies through a mutual friend. We ended up hanging out the entire summer after my senior year in high school. And I never really thought of her in any romantic way until late in the summer, so much so that when she would drop in to pick me up to go out, I never thought twice about changing in front of her (with boxers on) while she flipped through my muscle mags. Which always freaked my dad out. We traveled, shopped and even worked out together, all the while dating others. It was a great summer.
Both of our relationships hit the skids around the same time. I got dumped and she was trying to deal with an a-hole boyfriend. One night after a self depricating dialouge by her, I went off, telling her all the wonderful traits she had and how lucky that dumb SOB was to have her. Next thing I knew we were kissing and afterwards we knew what we both really wanted.
Two days passed after that night and I couldn’t get in touch with her. When I finally did she was distant and short. It turns out the dumbass had been in a slight car accident and aware of his slipping grasp on her, milked it for all he could. He and her mother, who only saw the money this idiot possessed, used the situation to drive a wedge between us and I have never gotten a chance to speak with her since.
That was 12 years ago.
I had tried a few times to track her down. But her mom moved and she got married the last I heard.
Found her on one of those ‘school reunion’ sites and sent her a message but it was never read.
So who knows. I guess I would just like to know that someone decent, man or woman is with her and enjoying her for who she is and treating her accordingly.
I hope life has treated her right.

Okay that is enough sappiness for one day…

TME please…as a part time pro-am bass fisher those “get aways” hurt even more than the female ones :slight_smile:

There were none! I’m glad I got away!

I’m the one that got away from them and they are still heartbroken about it.

“You don’t love me, you love my doggy style!”

Yeah, I let one get away, the memory still haunts me.

I was riding 'rockets out in the countryside during college with a couple of my buddies.

We pulled into a state park to take a break and there were a bunch of people our age having a party there. This super hot red head in a bikini top with a perfect rack, abs, long legs, the works – and two of her friends came over to check out the bikes.

I said to my buddies, let’s take these babes for a ride, the girls all wanted to go, but my two friends both had gf’s and were worried about what might happen if they found out.

I’m talking to the redhead and my buddies just started up their bikes and took off. I said a quick goodbye and took off after them.

I can still see her face, I have no idea why I didn’t think to get her number or anything, just a mistake, brain scrambled by her beauty.



I was 17, pulling walleyes through the ice on the Saginaw river. Lot’s of guys on the river that day, the bite was minimal but we were still getting some bumps here and there. My boy JP pulled out a keeper earlier in the morning but since then the bite had run cold, cold as the ice we now sat upon with bated breath, anxiously awaiting the next opprotunity.

Then, WHAM!, the rod in my left hand bent in half under the strain of what felt like a Mack truck 25 feet below. I set the hook, pulled, reeled, notified JP that I had a “good one” and would he mind manning the hole because it was doubtful I’d be able land this fucker on my own… He graciously obliged.

It’s funny when you’ve got a big walleye on the line when you’re ice fishing, because there you are, fighting, yanking, reeling, and the pole is what, 20 inches long at best? You’re desparate for a longer rod with more backbone (well aren’t we all anyway?)…back to the story…

The fish decided to curl his body maybe two feet from the hole so that JP and I could have a full look at what we were about to call the “walleye of the season.”

Folks he was big enough for JP and I to voice concerns over the diameter of the 10 inch hole being big enough to accomodate a successful landing.

I guided the monster’s head up to the hole, held the rodtip high in order to maintain a taught line. JP was masterful with the slush scoop, clearing an almost iced over hole with the dexterity of a heart surgeon. Just then, as if the fish had second thoughts about the choices he had made in his life, he was through playing… Finnished with the taste of the lead chartruese jig he had so hungrily chomped upon just 5 minutes earlier. As you can guess, (this is a “one that got away” story afterall), his head exited the water long enough for the lure to dislodge and recoil into my insulated Carhart bib-overalls. JP made a sort of frog like leap towards the hole and sunk his arm into the hole up to his clavicle in hopes to have one last grab at our quarry. Heart surgeon-like dexterity can only go so far when a bulky neoprene mitten sits atop ones fingers.

JP looked at me, I looked at him, no-one spoke for a full 5 seconds.

Then, in unison,


That, folks, is definitely a “one that got away story.” I’m able to cope, and put a lighthearted spin on ‘that’ story.

Now, the story of Heather on the other hand, I wont go near that story with a 10 foot pole. That story represents some extremely bad decision making on my part, decisions clouded by youth, ego, self esteem, and jealousy… Definitely THE one that got away, not a day goes by where a labored twinge doesn’t seep through my body in rememberance of mistakes that were made with her, if only for a brief moment. Do you move on, absolutely. Do you ever forget? Never, ever…


I can truly say I dont have one … I found one and married her … lets just hope I dont fuck it up! Almost 4 years now

What is this? The Lifetime message board?

One that got away, I’m so lonely, how do I raise my kid, my balls have re-ascended, blah, blah, blah…


Do they talk about fishing over Lifetime, bangs? I heard you been frequenting the place pretty often.

LOL bangs.

Dan “I’m the one who got away.” McVicker

One of them got away once. I didn’t tie her up right. But I learned my lesson; and she hers.

There ya go Tommy :wink:

ESTROGEN-Dangerously softcore.

What a frickin’ depressing subject for a thread… Is this thread for those guys who scream out all their emotional pain each rep of a bench press?

Good article:

I was fishing the Cowlitz River for spring Chinook. I got a hit and set the hook. Big salmon will hold in the current longer than those under 20 lb. and this guy was hanging out. I could tell by the speed of the rod pulses that he was foul hooked though, probably in the tail or near the tail. Sometimes they slap your gear instead of bite it.

I wanted my stuff and most of the line on my reel back so we fought our way down the river for 300 yards or better until I ran out of bank. I teased him and got him into the slough. My wife was standing by with a net but he wouldn’t fit in it. Tailing him was dangerous because he had two of my 1/0 hooks in his ass end. I eventually got him up and out of the water by sliding in myself and lifting the tired old boy out. I removed the hooks, held him so my wife and son could check him out and slid him back into the water. I revived him a bit and he swam off. He was a good sized buck Chinook. He was just under 4 feet long and weighed between 35 and 40 lb. I’ve had 50+ lb. Chinook on but never landed one. That one was the biggest I ever got on the bank and I had to let him go.

We did land and keep a few 29 lb. fish though so it wasn’t all bad news.

The girl that got away? Her name was Mary and we grew up together, had the same teachers. We competed for who did the most book reports in 5th grade. When she was younger she looked like Olive Oyl from the Popeye comics. By the time we graduated high school she was drop dead stunningly beautiful, and still just as intelligent as ever. 5’ 10", raven wing black hair, bottomless dark eyes, creamy skin, and tits and ass forever.

Oh well. We were young and it was in the dim past now. I found one that didn’t get away and we’re happy.

Oh, there’s one more that’s gotten away so far. His name if Goliath and he lives in Oregon. He’s a 7x7 bull elk with about 25 cows during the rut. I damn neared had him two years ago the day after I saw him the first time. I saw him from a distance last year but he was on the move. I know some of the places he hangs out and he’s just aggressive enough to play my game. I hope he makes it through the winter so we can play again in Sept. He’ll be quite a load for the pack horses.

I am amazed at how quickly some of you can hijack a thread…impecable really!

Anyways, I didn’t ask this question because I’m estrogen soaked, or whining, or any shit like that. I simply asked, to hear other people’s story.

Here’s mine…

4 years ago, a few months after having been dumped by my first love (she cheated on me…blah blah blah) I was invited to visit my best friend and his girlfriend at their University. That weekend, his girlfriends residence was having a formal, so I was asked to come along, but I would have to have a date from the residence as my host. So they found someone who was going stag(ette) to take me. Well her initial impression was less than flattering (I’ve got a sharp sense of humour that takes some getting used to). At one point I called her a liar, and she called me an ass (HAHAHA…we’d end up laughing about this long after.) Anyways, my best friend gets into an argument with his girlfriend before leaving and has to patch things up, so I asked my date if she wanted to keep me company. She agreed, and we started talking, I played a few songs on the piano for her, we talked some more, before having to leave.

Well, after that we started talking on the phone, 5 hrs a night, and we’d see each other every once in a while (by her effort). The problem was that she lived over an hour away from me, and was going to school an hour away from me as well (different cities). Travelling for me was difficult, moreover, I was stupidly affraid of putting in all this effort to be with her, after what happened with my ex prior…

Fast forward a year, we were giving dating a try, but I was still weary about the distance, and being able to see her, etc. that my effort was seriously lacking. Needless to say, she was getting tired of it to say the least…and she broke up with me. We stayed good friends for the next 6 months or so, before contact just broke off…

Well, I’ve dated girls after, but I always regreted what happened there…I let my fear interfere with something meaningful with a terrific, beautiful, and joy of a person to be around. Naturally, time to time I thought about her, and finally in Nov. I decided to call her up after 2 1/2 years of not talking.

Her and her boyfriend had split a few months before(they were nearly engaged). She said she had sat down in the summer to write me but could never think of what to write, and said she had found some of my old letters two weeks before. We talked as if we hadn’t missed a step, we got together the following week, and sparks flew (well they did for me…Unfortunately, she’s not interested in starting things up again).

We now see each other often (as much as 4 times a week at one point), and talk nearly every day.  We've become very good friends again, and I'm very happy about that.  While I wish something more will come out of this I know it's likely that it won't (She still harbours ill feelings for having "wasted a year and a half", and I am constantly reminded that "it's NEVER EVER going to happen" even when I don't ask).  It's just a shame that I realized how travelling to see her is not that difficult, how much I really enjoy her company and talking to her, and how much effort I'm willing to put in came 3 years too late!

Nice Brad, good visual on that one.