Looking back on my career, many positive things come to mind. Events, situations or even simple gestures that proved pivotal in my development as a competitive angler.
And that’s what I’d like to share with you this holiday season — an inspirational gift I received years ago, from a special couple wanting to lend a hand.
Setting the Stage
In 1989, I was competing in my third full season of the Bassmaster Invitationals.
Back then, the Invitationals were the highest level of competition in professional fishing. Unlike the Elite Series, pros were paired together in the same boat, competing against not only each other, but the rest of the field. It required a level of cooperation and sharing that hasn’t been around since, and after two seasons of getting my butt whipped, I was finally in contention to qualify for my first Bassmaster Classic.
It was down to the final event on Lake Guntersville, and I remember how nervous I was going in. I wanted to make the Classic so badly nothing else seemed to matter.
Back then, the Angler of the Year standings were determined by weight, not points. Knowing Guntersville would be a heavy weight event, I knew I’d have to have a strong finish in order to qualify.
The pressure was nearly overwhelming.
Guntersville is a big lake, full of structure. And to that point, I had no real experience at fishing deep. Having little time to learn my way around, I felt my chances were better staying shallow and looking for grass.
I spent long hours each day of practice combing the lake, hoping to find the magic grassbed. And though I did manage to locate some good areas, I never felt truly confident. I began to second-guess myself. Then I remembered something.
A Book by Its Cover
At an event prior to Guntersville, Tammy Cook (Ken Cook’s wife) presented me with a special gift. It came totally unexpected. I had drawn Ken in a previous tournament and had gotten to know him a little.
Ken was an established pro by this time. He had already won Super BA.S.S. — the first $100,000 payout in B.A.S.S. history — and he was one of the most consistent anglers on tour. He was in a place I wanted to be.
From our day on the water, Ken knew how much I wanted to make the Classic, and how frustrating the two previous seasons had been. He never really said much, other than to keep my head down and work hard. But I guess he shared my ambitions with Tammy.
However it happened, Tammy presented me with a copy of Richard Bach’s book Johnathan Livingston Seagull. It’s about a bird that did things differently from the flock — a bird that challenged himself to fly higher and faster, with more maneuverability than any of the other birds. Even when the baitfish were thick and easy pickings, Johnathan Livingston Seagull would spend his time soaring and perfecting his aerobatic skills.
Beneath that surface, it’s a story about sacrifice and determination. The message resonated with me.
After giving me the book, I remember Tammy saying, “Maybe this will help” and “Keep a positive attitude.”
One Last Chance
Well, at the end of the second day of competition at Guntersville, my opportunity to qualify for the Classic was on the line. I wasn’t sure if I had enough fish left for another day … not enough of the right fish anyway.
But I remained hopeful and prepared my tackle late into the evening. I fell asleep dreaming Classic thoughts.
The next morning, when I arrived at my starting spot, I noticed things were much different. The sky was low and the wind still. The air was thick with humidity.
I started with a spinnerbait, making long casts across the flat — the same grassy flat I had pounded the two previous days. On my second cast, the line jumped, then went slack. I reeled frantically trying to catch up to the fish, and when I did, it was right next to the boat and about to jump.
Adrenalin pumping, I swung the fish as it breached, right onto the deck of my boat. It was a 6 1/2-pounder, and it came unhooked as it hit the carpet. I put the fish in the livewell and high-fived my partner, then made another cast to the very same spot.
Incredibly, the scenario repeated itself, and I had another 6-pounder lying on the deck. In total disbelief, I pitched it into the livewell and fired another cast. Another giant came aboard!
Then another, and another.
In the space of about 15 minutes, I put five bass weighing more than 27 pounds in the boat … on nearly consecutive casts. It was one of my best days on the water ever, and I couldn’t wait to get them to the scales.
As I approached the weigh-in line — a huge bag of fish in hand — Tammy Cook broke through the crowd and hugged me. I believe she was as happy as I was … if that was even possible. Soon after, Ken found me and congratulated me as well.
I was going to my first Bassmaster Classic — fishing’s grandest stage. I could hardly believe it.
Looking back, I have no doubt that their gift of encouragement pushed me to work harder and believe more in myself. It helped jumpstart my career and, for that, I will be forever in their debt.
Sadly, Ken died in 2016, after suffering a massive heart attack. His death was a great loss to our sport. He influenced and inspired so many anglers, including me.
Although this past season may have been one of my worst, I know, with the right attitude and a lot of hard work, I can get it back. But first, I have some reading to do.