OK flieb, you asked for it.
My grandfather on my mother's side was Norwegian, and he was a fisherman. During my teenage years he would take me fishing for flounder ( upon which he relied heavily to feed his family ), along the Ct. shore between Westport and Norwalk. Our favorite spot was the Sagatuck Bridge on the Sagatuck River in Westport. When the flounder were running, the action was fast and furious. We would think nothing of 100+ fish hauls during the run.
Well, there was also eel runs in the river. My grandfather hated to catch them, as they would get up to 3 ft.+ and be 2 inches in diameter. Getting them off of the hook was a major league PITA.
Grandpa passed in 1969, and I continued to fish the river. I was fishing there one morning, and two old Portugese gentlemen were sitting in chairs at one end of the bridge, and the eels were running. They offered me fifty cents an eel, no limits to how many. They had a sack, I only had to kill them before I put them in the sack ( which was pretty much necessary to get the hook out of them anyway ). I was making $ 20.00 + every Sunday morning having fun, which wasn't too shabby for a young college student. It was how I spent my Sunday mornings.
Well, one Sunday a bunch of my college buddies tagged along, because they didn't believe me about the Portugese gents and the money I made.
After watching me have a great haul, and of course killing each eel, ( I used the humane method of a ghillie ( slang term used for a police type slapper used to dispatch the eel by wacking it in the head ), as we walked off the bridge, my buddy Dennis looks at me and said " I hereby name you Crazy Bill the Eel Killer ". And so it began.
They still call me that to this day, and it spread ( much to my initial dismay at the time ) around the University of Bridgeport campus like wildfire.
You did ask.
Cheers, Crazy Bill