Brittan smashed his personal best flathead this spring with the moose of a fish above. His account of the night and the message it sends are something we all need to read. Sometimes you just need to fish…

“After much discussion with you (Joe) about taking a night away from work to fish solo, I prepped the Pike Attack for its first trip of the year. The point of this trip was to restore the low level of sanity that I try to maintain, nothing more, and nothing less. I had low expectations and really small bait. I didnt care, that night was about the journey and fulfilling my thirst of adventure that I had been starving myself from. I ventured forth to a springtime confidence spot for a night of sitting in the rain and hopefully netting a few flatheads. After putting the boat in the water and netting some small shad, I had 13 small bluegill, 8 shad and 1 goldfish. It rained. Hard. For a good while right after getting set up in my spot for the night… After it finished I settled into the floor of the boat for a nap. About midnight, my bait feeder went off and the fight was on with my first flathead of the season, a small 22lber. After slipping the fish back into the water, waving goodbye, and getting another bait out, I laid back on the deck of the boat and dozed off. 3am came and I woke up to the familiar sound of a reel slowly and steadily alarming the sound of a take. I set the hook into a fish from my knees and battled with what seemed like a sizable fish. It took a little drag right away and swam right to the boat. A good sign of a mature fish. I budged the fish off the bottom and it surfaced, saw my headlamp and went ape-shit. “Giant fish!” I thought. We tussled for another 2-3 minutes on the starboard side of the boat before the fish took off toward the anchor rope. I didn’t get it stopped before swimming under and around the top of the anchor rope, but for some reason, the fish then swam to the surface and I was able to quickly swoop the net under it before it had the chance to fully submerge again (somehow). That was the stroke of luck that I had been looking for, for 3 seasons. The fish tipped the scales at 54.8 pounds. It ate a tiny bluegill that I was reluctant to even use, but sometimes fate doesnt care what you have to offer. That will be a night that lives in my mind forever. Went to fish, didnt have any expectations and set my new Pb.”