Good Will Fogle

Good Will Fogle

For those of you that don’t know me very well, I have a confession. I enjoy the outdoors. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t last a minute on Survivor, because I love to sit back in my living room and watch sports. However, I tried a sport, yes a sport this past weekend and there is some truth to the second time being a charm.
I traveled with a old football coach friend up to Guymon, America for some quail and pheasant hunting. It’s been 7 years since I’ve hunted and what I didn’t realize is how old I have become since then. The walk through corn fields and high grass is much worse than I remember, especially with the heaviest boots on the planet. I compare it to doing high knees with ankle weights. After the first few miles, I was wondering why am I doing this instead of watching the Patroit game?
Not only was I sore, but it started getting cold, and the pig farm smell reminded me of my coaching days up there. The sports center highlight was when these three dogs, who seemed like they would never find a bird, locked on. I was encouraged to move closer, but by then my legs had become stiff as a board. So, I’m scarecrow walking past this dog and to my left something that looked like a pheasant flew up, but to my right I saw what appeared to be a dragon wing. I didn’t waste time, I am from the streets, so I turned and ran. Yes, with a shot gun in hand. After my hunting partners stopped laughing, they informed me that the dragon was in fact a hawk.
So if anyone wants to tell me that hunting is not a sport, I sit here in my living room, with Icy Hot, and a bag of ice on my legs. I may need a cane


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