Hope you’re not tired of my questions about the state of professional tournament fishing, because they continue to pop into my brain one after another after another. That may be because I spend a lot of time on social media, where the topic has been twisted, turned upside down and given an enema by hundreds or even thousands of fans.
Obviously, Tuesday’s press release from the MLF crew created a frenzy among fishing media and fans. My phone, email and Facebook accounts have been blowing up since then with questions about what I know and what I think about the state of the fishing world from here on forward. More than one person has asked “When are you going to write about it?”
Prior to our west coast trip, my wife Hanna and her friend Cindy made a decision that we would not stop and see friends or family along the way – and certainly wouldn’t detour to find them. With only seven full days and two partial days to eat and drink our way from Seattle to San Francisco, there simply wouldn’t be time….and if we made an exception for one couple’s friends, it would only be fair to do it for the other’s. Therefore, they settled on a policy with no wiggle room.
About 15 years ago, my boss was invited to give a presentation in Hawaii. By “invited,” I mean required to go, although it hardly seemed like a hardship as we suffered through the depths of a brutal mid-Atlantic winter. After all, they were going to fly him out there, put him up at some hotel on the beach, give him a per diem and all he had to do was give an hourlong talk about a topic about which he was already an expert.
The 2018 tour-level season has almost ended, and it appears that catch of 101 pounds 9 ounces of Kentucky Lake largemouths will be the only four-day catch to eclipse the century mark. But for the we’ll-never-know-what-would-have-been finish that Randy Haynes left on the table, Lambert’s catch was an outlier. He beat second place finisher Scott Martin by nearly 30 pounds.
On the afternoon of Saturday, August 18, while trolling with Captain Matthew Quintano, one of our rods was pulled down by a vicious strike. The fish was there for a second, but two cranks of the handle later it was gone. We reeled the crankbait in and attached to the front treble there was a gooey, slimy, yet hard-shelled orb. Somehow we’d managed to miss the musky’s mouth, but completely impaled its eyeball.
I’m generally wary of overarching generational generalizations. The idea that there is or was a “Greatest Generation” is probably wishful nostalgia. If nothing else, it oversimplifies things greatly – for every birth year, there are good people and bad people, serious folks and clowns, patriots and traitors.
Every six or eight years after you become a partner at my brother Mike’s company, you are entitled to take a six-month, fully-paid sabbatical. It’s partially a reward for the revenue that the partners generate, and also a recognition that they will occasionally benefit from an opportunity to recharge their batteries given their grueling work and travel schedules.