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In my never-ending pursuit of perspective, I submit this observation that regardless of whether the Kansas City Chiefs or Philadelphia Eagles win today's Super Bowl, we are just a few weeks from the return of our walleye fishing.
The same can be said for the Pennsylvania groundhog's recent announcement about six more weeks of winter. Phooey to Phil! Spring's coming and the walleyes will be running.
By mid-February, during more winters than I care to count, I was ready to bust out the spinning rods. I was checking my waders for leaks and packing pocket-size boxes with eighth-ounce marabou-dressed jigs.
The annual run of walleyes from their resident lakes to moving-water spawning sites can get under way as early as the end of February during mild winters. Even during cold winters, the action is heating up in the first weeks of March.
So back in the day, off I would go to Mosquito, Berlin and even the Ohio River with high hopes for solid bites and frisky fights with a few cold-water walleyes. A stringer of fresh-caught walleyes is hard to beat when it comes to fried fish dinners.
I recall my earliest experiences with the ice-out walleye runs. Several catches still are vivid in my memory, though they happened many years before my Cleveland Browns were threatening (but failing) to beat the Denver Broncos for the AFC's berth in the Super Bowl.
On a sunny Sunday afternoon, I drove to the Mosquito Lake dam and rigged up my spinning rod, then lugged a bait bucket to an open spot in the line of anglers casting into the tail-race current. I sweetened my marabou jig with a lip-hooked two-inch minnow and began to fish.
Spring walleye runs are very popular. Mosquito draws crowds, but nowhere near the magnitude of hot spots like the Maumee and Sandusky rivers near Lake Erie, which are legendary for their elbow-to-elbow throngs of anglers.
Nevertheless, it was necessary to pay attention to other anglers' casts and synchronize my retrieve to avoid snagging another person's line. The crowd that day seemed to be in synch, so the fishing proceeded without incident, but also without fish.
Then it happened. I felt a tick on the end of my line. Not sure whether it was a rock, a fellow angler's jig or a walleye, I set the hook. The "tick" churned and soon became visible in the roiling water.
It was an 18-inch walleye, my only fish of the day and one of only a few I observed being caught. But it was perfect for dinner for two that evening.
Those first-of-the-season late winter and early spring walleye outings were the foundation on which I built my fishing seasons. The spawning urge drove the walleye to the rocks on causeways and the gravel riffles of the rivers.
The Ohio 88 causeway over Mosquito and the rip-rap face of the dam were other favorite spots where the jig and minnow accounted for dozens of tasty walleyes, especially in the twilight after sunny days warmed the lake's water.
I also enjoyed wading the Mahoning River below Berlin Reservoir's dam and casting jigs to the deeper run between two long gravel bars that extended below the roller dam. The current compressed my waders around my legs and the chilly water made my knees ache even though they were 40 years younger than today.
The ache was worth it, however, as I always seemed to have three or four walleyes on the stringer trailing from the loop on my waders.
They were fun times and good eats after a long and bleak winter.
So Eagles or Chiefs? Here's hoping the big game is a good one, but regardless, we'll be walleye fishing not long after the game clock in Phoenix ticks down to zeroes.
Jack Wollitz's book, "The Common Angler," includes a chapter detailing more of the life of professional guide Will Geraghty and explains the "why" behind our passion for fishing. Send a note to jackbbaass@gmail.com.