During a long-overdue cleaning of my office over the weekend, I found all sorts of unmentionable and forgettable items, but one discovery that made the effort worthwhile was this buzzbait. I bought it on ebay at least eight or ten years ago and it’s been waiting for an opportunity to go to work ever since.
Most anglers – either out of necessity, superstition, or some loosely-defined concept of “comfort” – have one or two favorite items of clothing. It can be on your head or on your feet, everything from a particular hat to a pair of flip flops, but once you lock it in, it’s there whenever the conditions allow.
Shortly after pressing send on my last blog -- which bemoaned the fact that I’d neglected to add some critical items to my Black Friday tackle orders and would now have to pay full price for them – I got a pleasant surprise in the form of a cardboard rod tube from our good friends at Tackle Warehouse.
When I was in law school 25 years ago, I had a 13 inch television in my apartment. If I got home from class and wanted to veg out with a little Beavis and Butthead, I had to look carefully to tell which one was which. If I left the library on Sunday to tune into an NFL game, it was a challenge to read the numbers on the jerseys, at least from across the room.
Any casual fishing fan can name the marquee figures of the sport – tournament champs like KVD, media kings like Mark Zona, and innovators like Gary Yamamoto – but behind the scenes there exists a network of “connectors” who bring the whole deal together without sharing in any of the glory. My friend Clifford Wiedman is one of those “glue guys.”
I am exceptionally proud of the fact that I haven’t ordered any tackle in months, including during the five day period in October when I was stuck at home following sinus surgery. Of course, bragging about my monastic spending habits rings a little bit hollow when I admit that I ordered a new boat and 250 horsepower Mercury during that supposed hiatus.
I just spent five whirlwind days in Texas, fishing three different lakes with four different Classic qualifiers – Clark Reehm, Keith Combs, Albert Collins and Lonnie Stanley. Frankly, I’ve always believed that bass fishing sucks throughout much of the country in November, but the bass in the eastern part of the Lone Star State must not have gotten the memo, because the numbers of fish were absolutely insane, and while my hosts kept complaining about the lack of big ones I really didn’t notice
I’ve been late the party on plenty of tackle trends, including swim jigs, the dropshot rig, and, most notably, the Senko. I’m still wary of the shakey head, but overall I’ve learned that it is a terrible feeling to discount a technique for years, only to be forced to adopt it and then realize all that you’ve been missing.