Trisha the Fisher cradled her salmon in her hands, hugged it against her chest and planted a juicy kiss on its body.
It wasn’t quite clear if she was going to enter it in Mayor Daley’s second annual Salmon Classic or if she was going to adopt it, but she certainly was glad to see it.
“I’m not going to let it go,” said Trisha the Fisher, a.k.a. Trisha Cole of Chicago, who said she did not plan to keep the coho as a pet but was not going to throw it back into Lake Michigan either.
It was a hazy and drizzly night for the recent derby, and only a few hours before it had rained hard enough to postpone a baseball game. Yet 120 anglers turned out for the chance to win medals and merchandise like rods and reels.
Anglers were stationed about 10 feet apart along the concrete wall in an area that until recently was inhabited by an airport. Mayor Richard M. Daley bulldozed Meigs Field and replaced it with fresh fishing opportunities.
Trisha the Fisher, who began her fishing career in May, watched with glee as her rod bent from the pressure of the fish’s bite.
“C’mon, baby,” she said. “Fight. I hear the line singing.”
Nearby fishermen urged her on. “Keep reeling,” they said. She did and brought a 3.1-pound salmon up from the deep.
Cheerleading was a major activity for many anglers, who couldn’t buy a bite if they had waved free White Sox tickets under the noses of the fish.
The city’s skyline was electrified, but so was the backdrop. Lightning was flashing in Indiana.
“I’m delighted with the turnout,” said Steve Palmisano of Henry’s Sports and Bait Shop, which officiated the event. “People were all geared up. They were excited.”
After the storm hit, fishermen called the bait shop for hours asking if the event would still be held. Anglers are not easily deterred.
“I fish rain or shine,” said Dave Dempsey of North Riverside, who had caught several salmon nearby earlier in the week.
Bob Mlinarcik brought a small radio and listened to sports as he fished, but he said he never hesitated about hitting the lakefront in the rain.
“When you’re 76, what else is there to do?” he said.
Mlinarcik has a cottage in Indiana and invites his 21 grandchildren there to fish.
“I taught them to fish,” he said. “All 21.”
Beatrice Anderson of Chicago brought her grandchildren. Anderson, Alicia Hopkins, 12, and Anshawn McLaren, 11, began fishing at 2:30 p.m., hours before the tournament began and put a half-dozen bluegill into a bucket. It wasn’t completely clear who was responsible for which fish.
“I caught one,” McLaren said. “She made me throw it back because it was too small.”
Alas, salmon, the alleged fish of the day, were in short supply. Or maybe they didn’t like the menu. Fishermen put in hours without a nibble.
“I saw some jumping,” said Collier Moore, who has fished the lakefront for 40 of his 48 years.
Sightings did not earn brownie points. If you couldn’t put a salmon on the scale, you might as well have been looking at a picture in Outdoor Life.
Skip Lubinski, a pharmacist from Clarendon Hills, broke the pattern. Climbing out on large rocks at the end of a pier, Lubinski nabbed a 4.1-pound king salmon.
“I feel fortunate,” said Lubinski, aware of the empty-handed plight of other salmon fishermen. “It fought for a couple of minutes. It hit on the drop and it really hit hard. A couple of times it ran right toward me, and I thought I lost it.”
Lubinski said he fishes Lake Michigan for salmon twice a week in September and October in hopes of landing a 20-pounder, but this 4-pound fish broke his own unlucky streak.
“It’s the only fish I brought in this year,” he said.
Lubinski won the big fish award as well as overall gold medal honors in the event. Trisha the Fisher placed second. Everyone else was skunked.
“I love to slay my fish,” Trisha the Fisher said. “I’ll take it home and filet it, then fry it up with lemon and butter.”
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lfreedman@tribune.com
