I'm not as intimidating to look at as Len Harris but when he took my informing him of the out of season status of catch the wrong way I did a quick mental assessment that left me feeling fairly safe. Barring his having a concealed weapon I felt that my studded wading boots on his bare legs and sandaled feet trumped his advantages in size and age. After all, I have always felt that the idea of fighting fair just means that us short clumsy types are bound to loose. I don't do it any more after I found that the application of a two by four to the head meant I didn't get beat up again by my six foot two cousin in eighth grade.