Wondering Whether Winners Never Quit

Although born and raised a city boy, I was magnetically drawn to hunting and fishing magazines like “Field and Stream.” But since my dad didn’t grow up a sportsman in the hardscrabble 1930s, my first hunting adventures had to wait until I was older. Meanwhile, I played the sports boys played in the 1960s, and endured my fair share of coaching. Among the hackneyed nuggets passed along to me, one of questionable accuracy has, like crabgrass, been obdurately resilient: “Winners never quit, and quitters never win.”

I want to see that statement amended.

Late in 2022, I sent my woodcock hunting diary with a note to Ken S. at the LODGH. Part of the note follows:

“My 25 year old ‘honey holes’ really showed their age this Fall. Hunting only 23 of NY’s 45-day season, my pup flushed only 16 woodcock. I’ve been loyal – stubborn? – in hunting these old coverts. But I now believe that if I’m to get my pup into birds, I’ll have to search out new coverts…. sad. But it’s necessary.

I’ve been blessed to have had such good woodcock hunting locally over the last 25 years. So hooray! to the past. But, by Gosh, I’m going to try hard to give my pup a birdy future.”

I know that my down-the-street patch of redbush that’s produced so many woodcock since 1994 isn’t coming back anytime soon. I know this because there’s a house – heck, a whole development – sitting on that ground today.

There goes the (birds') neighborhood

But I still return to isolated patches of cover near there. I enjoy reconnecting with past hunts enjoyed in productive cover with good dogs and good friends. I wrote about that in 2010. But nostalgia won’t help Jake now.

Recently I read an article by Peggy Noonan. I attach a relevant section below:

“Sometimes you have to realize a dream is a fixation, its object no longer achievable because it doesn’t exist.

(Another) story involves Norman Lear, who produced many… television comedies (in) the 20th century… He said there are two words we don’t honor enough. One is ‘over’ and the other is ‘next.’ There’s a kind of hammock between the two and it is right now, this moment we’re sharing. He was saying: Be present. But as he talked, I heard embedded within his words a layer of advice: That it’s actually a key skill to be able to see when something’s over, when it’s the past, not the future; that you have to have eyes that can find the next area of constructiveness, which may take time; and in the time between, the hammock, you must maintain your peace and poise.”

I’m going to recall that paragraph when I try to find whatever’s next for pup and me. I’ll find “peace and poise,” even if not many birds, in what’s left of my beloved local covers. Meanwhile, I’ll redouble my efforts to find new opportunities essential to bringing Jake along.

Maybe “Winners would at times do better to redirect” is a better course of action, even if not better locker room bulletin board material.