Jersey Turnpike, Exit 1

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I’ve spilled a lot of ink, and spent lots of pixels, criticizing the exponential proliferation of dye-sublimated fishing jerseys. While they have valid uses among pros, non-pros and even non-anglers, the problem is that when everyone wears one all the time, their value becomes diluted and they eventually turn into a parody of themselves.

I still believe that, but I also recognize that I’m a hypocrite.

While on my most recent trip to Brazil I made multiple trips to the Sucuri Pesca tackle store, and once I’d shot my wad on tackle purchases, I pivoted to the clothing section. Somehow two jerseys followed me (and my credit card) home.

I make no excuses, and to be quite honest I’m not sure when I’ll wear them. After all, it’s probably not appropriate attire for a wedding or funeral, and it’s not like I’m going to make that much of an effort for a random Thursday night visit to Arby’s. Maybe I’ll wear them when I fish. Or maybe not. But at least I’ll be the only person on my block with a wolf fish eating a jig on his back.

 
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