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Since I was 6 years old I have been interested in fishing, I have only one fishing rod. a sun-worn, hardened and discolored fishing line wrapped in a red hoop, a fly needle and a small bullet at the end. at that time I could only catch spinnerfish with bread stuffing, and suicidal rock fish come to my fishing rod. Anyway, when my fishing line breaks, I ask the brothers/uncles fishing on the beach to tie my fishing line. No one ever refuses, even if I don't have a needle and lead, it's not a problem, these brothers/uncles don't hesitate to give me a few of the hundreds of needles in their bags, they tie it, they even give me some of the fish they catch on it, so I'm comfortable.
Anyway, it had been a few months since my grandfather had passed away, it was April, one of those days when the clouds slowly started to disperse after the rain, and a sparkling sky showed itself a little. We are in one of the quaint coastal towns of Izmir, we are evacuating the summer house that my grandfather had kept for years. I was bored as a child, the sea was only 50 meters away, I was crying that I wanted to go fishing, my little aunt was given to me as a babysitter. We go to the seaside, I start casting from the pier. after a while my aunt's friends come and offer to go and sit in a cafe, I say "let's not go". "it's stony there, my fishing rod will get stuck and break". they don't listen to me and force me to take them to the said place. after a few casts
my fishing rod gets stuck, we can't get it out no matter what we do, and it snaps. I start sobbing, I don't have another needle and lead, I don't know how to tie it if I did, there is no one fishing on the beach at noon on a weekday, give me needle and lead, tie it. I'm not just like that, I'm sobbing on the inside. I'm pestering my aunt and her friends, of course. They're trying to shut me up by offering me a coke or something, but I won't shut up and that day's fishing adventure is over.
Now I look at the teams I own, I laugh when I think of that day.