I sat down today with intentions of listing and apologizing for all the mistakes I made back when I was 19 years old.
But then it dawned on me that I have to go to ICAST in a week.
The holidays are just around the corner.
The Bass Pro Shops Bassmaster Classic presented by Jockey Outdoors is set for March, and I wouldn’t be nearly finished by then.
Neither would you, by the way.
I say all of this not to apologize for the missteps made by 19-year-old Trey McKinney during his pursuit of the Progressive Bassmaster Angler of the Year title. I say it to point out that our teenage years were pretty much given to us as a blank canvas for mistakes that would make us all — or most of us, anyway — smarter adults.
I think about a few of my mistakes at that age, then hear about McKinney’s and think to myself: “What’s the big deal?”
He admittedly didn’t comb through the rules thoroughly enough before the event at the St. Johns River and wound up blowing through a no-wake zone. It’s not a typical no-wake zone, mind you, but one that B.A.S.S. declares as such in the name of safety.
Should he have known better? Absolutely.
But raise your hand if you’ve never gotten in a hurry and skimmed the rules instead of hanging on every word. Now put your hand down and stop lying.
The bulk of speeding tickets written in this country are handed out because someone wasn’t paying close enough attention when the speed limit dropped from 55 mph to 45. Practically every garage in this country has weedeaters, toolboxes, rod racks, etc., that are sitting lopsided or missing screws because reading those instructions was just too much work.
The difference between your mistakes and McKinney’s is that, frankly, no one cared about yours. His happened under a much bigger microscope than most people could imagine with more money on the line than some people will make by the time they’re twice McKinney’s age.
Do I feel sorry for him because he was punished for breaking the rules? I absolutely do not. This is the game he signed up for and learning and following the rules is a gigantic part of it.
Where I do feel sorry for him a little bit is when I see some of the chatter on everybody’s favorite 21st Century gossip grapevine, social media.
People have roasted this kid for showing up late for the Day 2 weigh-in at Smith Lake and then having his whole day’s catch disqualified because a family member had called to let him know he was late.
Honestly, when is the last time you went a month without being late for something?
Specifically, on the tournament front, put yourself in McKinney’s position. If you were late for your Tuesday-night tournament weigh-in, would anyone notice? Would anyone call you to remind you that you were late? And if they did, would anyone make a big deal out of it?
Maybe, maybe not. But even if they disqualified you, it wouldn’t qualify as one of the biggest stories in pro fishing in a half decade. No $100,000 bonuses would be at stake, and it wouldn’t get even a mention on Bassmaster LIVE.
McKinney’s mistakes are being magnified because he’s made them on the biggest stage possible — and because he’s winning.
The moment he came out of nowhere and won the Bassmaster Elite Series event at Lake Fork, it was a foregone conclusion he was going to be accused by some people of wrongdoing.
I started this column by saying I don’t have enough time to list all of the mistakes I made when I was 19. Ironically, I have plenty of time to list every single angler who’s ever been accused of cheating.
You ready?
It’s every single angler who’s ever won anything. Simple as that.
Competitive fishing has always been that way. You win, you get the side-eye. So, that part doesn’t surprise me at all.
The thing I’ve found most hilarious throughout all of this is the people who say things like, “If Trey McKinney has done these things and gotten caught, just imagine what he’s done without being caught.”
Whew. You folks better be careful if you ever take anyone to court — or at least keep me posted on how it goes. It’ll be a popcorn-worthy show.
“Your honor, obviously, if this person did this, he must also be guilty of this, too.”
Pack an overnight bag before you make that argument where people of an official nature can hear it.
I feel certain McKinney has smart people around him, helping him through this historic season. So, I won’t waste time giving him a lot of advice.
The only thing I’ll say is it’s good to apologize once for the mistakes you make so publicly.
But once and only once.
At 19, McKinney’s not finished making mistakes. Nor will he be magically finished when the calendar turns from “teenager” to “not teenager.”
Young people make mistakes — and apologizing for all of them over and over again could become the lowest-paying full-time job in history.
