The Mind of a Crappie

Here's your local fishing report: It's spring, they're biting, go fishing! And now for a rehashed humor article because I'm covered up!

Fishermen have long wondered what exactly goes on in the mind of a crappie. While we know much about their habitat and diet, it's the "why" that remains a mystery. To help solve this riddle, the federal government approved a 10 million dollar grant to a group of researchers, and this is the report, published here for the first time.

Recently a set of marine biologists and aqua-neuro-scientists successfully implanted a pair of advanced microneuron-sensory-receptors in the cerebral cortex of a male and female crappie. Using advanced slab-translation telemetry, 3 days of correspondence was discovered and translated into English. For the sake of the study, we'll refer to the two crappie as Bob and Sheila, respectively.

Day 1: Saturday, April 4th, 2015

Outside temp - 78 degrees Winds - calm Barometric pressure -- stable

Bob: Hey Sheila. Sheila. Sheila. Hey Sheila. Heeeeeyyyyyy Sheila!

Sheila: What Bob?!

Bob: What are you doing?

Sheila: I'm staging Bob, what does it look like?

Bob: I built you something, it's nice, do you want to see it? You'll like it, it's over at the base of that cypress tree.

Sheila: No. I'm busy staging.

Bob: Ok. You're belly looks amazing by the way, so big and round and feminine, what are you now, 3-pounds? Hey, are you hungry? 16 minnows keep circling around the tree at very slow speeds, it would be easy to pick a few off if you want.

Sheila: No Bob, I'm not hungry, I ate a bunch of tiny invertebrates last night during the full moon.

Bob: Ok, I won't eat today either, I'll just hang out here with you. Hey, did you notice how black I'm getting?

Sheila: (long sigh...) Yes Bob, you're coloring up well...

Fishing report in local paper for the same day: "A gorgeous day on the water, everyone was out and no one caught anything."

Day 2: Sunday, April 5th, 2015

Outside temp - 79 degrees Wind - calm Barometric pressure -- stable

Bob: Heeeeeyyyyyyy girl, you sleep well?

Sheila: You should know, you swam by 100 times last night.

Bob: Just checking on you, making sure you were comfortable.

Sheila: I would be more comfortable if you could refrain from incessantly fanning all night, and by the way, your tail is bleeding.

Bob: Sorry, I've just been working really hard preparing for you.

Sheila: Ok Bob...

Bob: Hey, you hungry? Those 16 minnows are back, and all sorts of colorful bugs and minnow-shaped tidbits keep bobbing up and down around my tree, you want to go see it?

Sheila: No Bob, I'm still staging, and I ate some shad last night.

Bob: Shad? Where did you get shad?

Sheila: Over by that submerged stump.

Bob: What stump? Dan's stump? Sheila were you out with Dan last night?

Sheila: Yes Bob, your fanning was driving me crazy, I went over to Dan's. We're crappie Bob, not penguins, we don't have monogamous relationships. Why don't you go eat some of those minnows.

Bob: No thanks, I'm not hungry anymore... (swims away, but storms back after a minute) I know my tree looks better than Dan's stump, there's no way it's as safe for fry.

Sheila: Ok Bob, I'm sure it's nice, maybe I'll check it out tomorrow.

Bob: Really!? Ok, sure, I'll go get make sure it's ready.

Fishing report in local paper for the same day: "Another gorgeous day on the water, everyone was out and no one caught anything."

Day 3: Monday, April 6th, 2015

Outside temp - 55 degrees Wind - 10-15N Barometric pressure - falling

Bob: Heeeeyyyyyyyy Sheila? Wake up girl.

Sheila: Bob, it's too early, I want to sleep in.

Bob: I didn't bother you at all last night so you could get some sleep. Hey, come out from behind that brush so I can see you.

Sheila: Bob, I'm really tired.

Bob: (swimming around closer) SHEILA!!! You're belly?! You...you...but...where...why...

Sheila: I'm sorry Bob, Dan invited me over for more shad, and one thing led to another...

Bob: I'm gonna stomp his ***!

Sheila: BOB! He is protecting my fry, you'll do no such thing.

Bob: This is bullcrap Sheila!!

Sheila: Bob, there are plenty of fish in the lake, I heard Martha was looking for a suitable bed.

Bob: I didn't work my butt off for some 10-inch, 3/4-pound throwback!

Sheila: That's very rude Bob, and I don't appreciate the language. Please leave me be.

Bob: (swims off mumbling expletives) I know my tree is the safest place, and I would have protected it at all costs. Look at this little glowing pink and green fish, coming in for a look, I'll show you how I would protect my fry! CHOMP! AAAAAHHHHHH, AAAAHHHH, **********, HHHHHEEEELLLLPPP!!!

Josh M. Gowan

Outdoors Writer, Crappie Angler Magazine