It’s usually something commonplace like unfiled taxes or an out of wedlock debauch that tumbles presidential hopefuls back to earth, mostly because  candidates can’t lie like us anglers, instead they crumple into sobs at the first hint of adversity, and we’re forced to watch some tearful confession while his wife stands grim lipped at his elbow.

Us sportsmen are experts at judging moral fiber and could shorten the field quickly if they’d give us a couple of debate questions, but they won’t –given there are too few of us remaining to matter.

Our environmental organizations dispute this notion – suggesting the outdoors crowd commands respect in both Executive and Legislative branches of government. Simply the threat of us taking our votes elsewhere causes senators and congressmen to blanch openly, given their fear of arousing the Sporting juggernaut.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Most of Congress fears us camping on their lawn, knowing that our delight in not showering coupled with our penchant for blood sports, would give us free reign to trap and eat stray cats, ornamental Koi, homeless people, or anything else that investigated a crumbled Twinkie sprinkled with lawn clippings, and the waiting Punji pit below …

Proof is in Texas’s Governor Perry, who prior to mounting his ill fated Presidential bid, signed an anti-crime package making it illegal to lie about a caught fish’s length and weight, a fact that might have put him at odds with that sporting vote, had he not forgotten … uhm, that third, uhm … stuff, first.

While a few fly fishermen have graced the Oval Office, most notably Grover Cleveland, Hebert Hoover, and Teddy Roosevelt, it’s been a long, dry spell since Jimmy Carter, the last angler that proudly ate what he caught.

No thanks to us, it appears the drought will continue.