Taking The Cure
WE ALL HAVE that one friend who turns into a completely different person this time of year. He goes dark for weeks, only to reappear around Thanksgiving. Or, if you do see him, he’s got that 1,000-yard stare. When you bump into him (usually at the Git-n-Split at 5 a.m. on the way to the field), he speaks of target bucks and moon phases. He might text you shadowy, trailcam photos of “Big Daddy,” “Swamp Donkey,” or some other aptly named deer that he just can’t catch during daylight hours. In short, this guy is obsessed. And while he claims to love deer hunting, he’s turned it into something that, in my opinion, is less than fun. Don’t get me wrong. I have addictions. In my younger years, it was turkeys…