For some reason, this past waterfowl season had me reflecting on my youth. I can say without prejudice, I was blessed, extremely fortunate and lucky. There are a lot of parts to that whole. On one hand, I was brought up around the world’s largest sporting goods store and had access to damn near unlimited gear, land and, most importantly, knowledge from the gents who without question shaped the industry and, likewise, my life.
And on the other, there was Tony. His old man didn’t work for said sporting goods store, his life certainly didn’t revolve around any of that stuff, nor did he want it to. He was a “local” (for lack of a better definition), an instigator and kiss-ass that would make Eddie Haskell proud, a chameleon of…