It's happened to us all, a river bank friend turns up, in this case the farmer who isn't going to fish, but he decides to have a few casts anyway.
'Do you mind if I squeeze in next to you?' of course not, he's good company and it's his land. I catch a pike about seven pounds.
Then I hear, 'this feels a bit bigger' from two yards to my right, after landing and weighing the pike it goes a lovely twenty-two and a half pounds.
I miss a screaming run and the bait comes back chewed to pieces, this is now beginning to look quite promising.
Then, yet again I hear, two yards to my right, 'this feels like a good one too'. After landing and weighing the pike it makes sixteen and a half pounds.
'We're going to family party tonight so I'll lean your rod against the reeds just here, see you next week, good luck'.
I never got another bite and pack up in the dark thinking about good reasons not to lend your second rod to people who weren't going to fish anyway.
Got home and poured several beers, ah well, there's always next week.
'Do you want a line on the lottery?' says the boss. 'Not with my luck pet, a complete waste of money'.
The boss won twenty-five quid, says it all really.