Over the past week or so, I’ve been wrestling inside my own head with the questions of why I’m so excited about this week’s Bassmaster Classic. I go through the same process every year about this time, getting hyped up for a tournament that I’m not participating in, only watching.
This past weekend the entire Robbins family celebrated my father’s 75th birthday by gathering at my parents’ house, eating food from his favorite restaurant and playing a spirited game of “Jeopardy” in which every question was about him. Miraculously, no one was decapitated or excommunicated from the family.
As year 13 of the Elite Series experiment commences, BASS has once again offered up one of my favorite photo galleries of the year, full side shots of all of the competitors’ boat wraps. Not many surprises – mostly endemics, related non-endemics, and related fields like oilfield supply companies – not a Tinder-themed boat in the mix, nor is there one touting the benefits of medicinal cannabis.
I came home from El Salto a few weeks ago not quite mad, but a little bit disappointed. My biggest fish on this trip was 7 pounds 10 ounces, which made it the second smallest “big fish” on any of the 11 trips I’ve taken there. My smallest big fish came on my first trip, when I topped out at a little over 6 pounds. It is a special place, one that will spoil you, and the vast majority of the time I’ve topped 8, usually several times. To put that in a bit of perspective, I’ve only caught one 8 pounder in Virginia in my life, and that one just pushed the needle to that mark.