Some time before my Papaw died, I caught a 5-pound, 8-ounce bass.
Truth be told, he probably caught it because when the fish got hooked it broke the surface of the water with a violent crash.
This proved too much for 5-year-old me, who threw my pole and ran while he laughed and told me to reel in the fish.
The fish was brought home, where at some point it was sent to be mounted.
We never saw the Brobdingnagian bass again, but I still count it as my personal best.