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We were fishing “snook alley” in Venice, Florida, on a cold night, and the snook we came across didn’t want to play along. At light after light we made presentations to fish that reacted to our flies sluggishly or not at all. I switched to sinking line and tied on a small shrimp pattern. We pulled up to a light on a seawall next to a restaurant parking lot. The pool was laden with linesiders. A group of six or seven people leaving the restaurant stopped to watch as I stepped up to cast. I felt like I was on the first tee at the Masters. I made four or five casts to the edges of the light pool with no results. One of the guys shouted out in a mocking tone, “So are you catching, or just fishing?”Just as he said it, a snook blasted out of the shadows and nailed the fly. As my rod bent and the snook tore out of the hole and went airborne, I shouted back to the audience, “Catching!” I’ve never had a more satisfying take.