Augusta County Bass Jon’s Season Opener for the 2011 on Fluvanna Ruritan was a great
Turn out with 12 Teams Ready to cast there line and bring there 5 hogs in.
The water temp was 56-58 & the bait for the day was crank baits and spinner bait lipless.
Augusta County Bass Jon’s Season Opener for the 2011 on Fluvanna Ruritan was a great
Turn out with 12 Teams Ready to cast there line and bring there 5 hogs in.
The water temp was 56-58 & the bait for the day was crank baits and spinner bait lipless.
Their were 94 participants in the 2012 Mr Bass event held on Lake Gaston and the winner was Jason dodson with 8 fish, with a total weight of 27.22 Lbs…
I am an electronic journalist, without electronics.
I have a 4G phone.
I have a 4G MiFi thing.
I have all the Gs you can buy.
None of the Gs, not a darn one, knows I’m here. I’m thinking a week of rebates, Mr. Verizon boss dude.
All of my columns are late; I would gladly explain that to my several thousand bosses … but I have no bars either.
If by some chance you have some extra bars, or Gs, can you get in your car and bring them to me?
Dear Jim, The New Boss Guy: Yesterday’s column is in the mail … I won’t put the 45¢ for the stamp on my expense form since the expense form stopped adding the POSTAGE column in 2002 (or whenever they found that Internet floating around out there).
Here’s how an electronic journalist without electronics files stories out here East of Nowhere.
I get an idea: So far that’s pretty easy.
I get a song: Again not too hard since I have 2,543 Items, 6.5 Days, 12.77 GB of the things in my iTunes folder.
I plug in the Sennheiser HD 555 Headphones … hit the loud button up top there of the keyboard until it stops making lines.
I start writing.
I finish writing.
The wheels come off. Because the moment I click send, that #@!*&#! spinning beach ball thing in the MacBook starts happening.
I go take a shower.
Still spinning.
I make lunch/dinner.
Still spinning.
I eat lunch/dinner.
Still spinning.
I pick up the laptop and my alleged 4G MiFi thing, go out to the 4Runner, get in and drive 7.2 miles to the end of the road, turn left into a gas station, park over by the broken free air machine thing, click send one more time …
… gone in a flash.
Buy a bottle of Milo’s Sweet Tea and head back past the Nuclear Plant and turn right at on our street, park, walk inside as Paul Elias and Shaw Grigsby, my roommates for the 2012 Bassmaster Elite Series season, look at me and start giggling …
… because I’m an electronic journalist without electronics.
True story.
Send me a SASE, I’ll print this story out and mail it to you.
” … keeping my eye to the keyhole … “
Paul Elias.
Shaw Grigsby.
Me.
I have been referring to the three of us as the Grumpy Old Men … and that’s not entirely true … two of them are not grumpy at all … one of me, has my moments.
To be honest, we are more like The Odd Couple Plus One.
Two Oscar Madisons.
And one Shaw … .er … Felix Ungar.
Somehow, in the morning, Shaw walks out of the bedroom in a pressed shirt, tucked in, clean pants, and hair darn near “Werewolves of London” perfect.
Paul walks out in boxers and no shirt.
I walk out in bare feet, camo sweat pants, a cut up ragged-arse sleeping tee shirt, Einstein hair and stinking as you would imagine a 40-some-years-of-Margarita-drinking dude would smell like.
If we were buildings, two of us would be condemned.
One would be the “Model Unit.”
The “Model Unit,” is the only one smiling.
Shaw bounds around the kitchen fixing healthy food stuff to take on the boat.
Paul is also fixing healthy food stuff to take on the boat, but there is very little, if any bounding, as for the 6th morning in a row he discovers he forgot to either put the coffee grounds, or the water, in the coffee pot which is now going through its air cycle (what a coffeemaker does when you turn it on and hit brew when it lacks one, or both things needed to in fact ‘brew’ anything).
I’m sitting at my 0G laptop pretty much thinking it was a bad time to give up donuts.
It is 5 AM in the morning.
The workday has begun.
Yesterday’s workday ended at 10 PM.
As will today’s.
“You tired,” says Paul, who is tired, “you practice 12-13 hours a day, from sunrise to sunset, you come back to the place, eat fast, shower fast, then go out and get your tackle ready for the next day.”
Tournament days for these guys are even worse … we are up at 4:30 AM … at the boat ramp by 5:30-5:45 AM … they launch and fish until around 3:30 PM … come in for the weigh-in which was at 4 PM … get out of the tournament area around 5:30-6 PM … head 14 miles back to the place … eat … shower … get the boat secured … do the tackle stuff … go to bed, usually between 9:30 and 10 PM.
Again, Paul: “Tournament days are physical but they can wear you out mentally … you have to keep thinking … changing … always thinking about your next move, always looking for the big-un that could be a day changer for you.”
I have never in my life been around this kind of work ethic.
SEVENTEEN-HOUR days are the normal.
Seven days a week, are the normal.
And, frankly, these facts are not debatable … .because I’m there WITH THEM; I see it first hand, I live it first hand.
You want to be an Elite, you darn well had better buckle up your working stiff workbelt.
Because, if you are a slouch, if you expect handouts from someone, you come here with that attitude and the only thing handed to you will be … your head.
” … if it takes all that to be just what I am … “
It is 5:15 AM, Day Two of the St Johns Showdown tournament.
Day One was not a good day for my roommates.
Shaw is making a jug of iced tea to take on his boat, “db, I barely slept a wink last night.”
“I know,” says Paul who shares a room with Shaw. “Boy, I know.”
Paul is making coffee and is about to take a shower.
Both, independent of each other, has said this to me, “I think I blew it, blew the tournament.”
Friday morning blues.
I’m sitting at my laptop watching the ever spinning beach ball, I say nothing.
Been here, done that before with athletes. When the wide receiver drops the ball in the end zone, he doesn’t need to hear anything from me, doesn’t need to be asked why, don’t need no advice either.
Being quiet is the best thing I can say. Let them work it out, work it through their mind, through their heart.
So I sit and sit silent, except I’m thinking of this story, thinking of what I would do if I were them, but I stay silent.
Except, I softly type this:
S … W … I … N … G.
Swing boys, swing for the fences … For 50 guys, Friday morning of a tournament day is the 4th quarter, the bottom of the 9th, turn 4 … you hold back now, you do the same thing that you did that got you in this situation … you not going to be in the boat tomorrow.
You be in the stands.
The Spectator Elite.
” … well, I’m gonna be a blue collar man … “
Fastforward.
24 hours.
Same time, same place.
Saturday morning.
You want to know how much this sport means to these guys, I’m going to tell you exactly what is going on.
Paul gave it his best shot … this is a Bassmaster Classic winner, winner of 6 events, 41 Top 10 finishes, 7,479 pounds of bass caught, almost a MILLION dollars won … and he is still in bed.
Don’t need to get up.
He didn’t have a good Friday, had a worse Friday night.
Later, when he gets up and comes out of the bedroom, he has the look on his face of the Little League Baseball player who dropped the easy out, who had the game in his glove, and lost it.
“You can’t mess around out there, you’ve got to be working on your game, everyday, every minute.”
The voice of a champion, no blame on anyone but himself.
“But db, you have to keep a positive attitude, positive that you can do this, that your decisions are right, that you have the confidence, if not … you’re toast.”
An hour or so before this, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, laptop up and running, little beach ball thing spinning.
Shaw is a tornado in a blue fishing shirt.
First gets the coffee, sips, puts it down, picks it up, sips, down … up … down … then he starts making his iced tea, “regular on the boat, sweet tea off the boat,” then he fills two big plastic storage bags with store-bought ice.
In between all of that he, pulls a frozen Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwich out of a box and wraps it in a paper towel for the upcoming nuking of the food, takes another sip of coffee, puts the paper towel wrapped breakfast sandwich in the freezer and then comes over and sits with me at the kitchen table.
After a minute or so he says, “db … I put the sandwich in the freezer instead of the microwave, didn’t I?”
I just nod, yes.
Shaw, he smiles.
After Day One of the tournament, Shaw was in 88th place with 7 pounds 11 ounces.
Come Friday, he walked on stage with a bag of bass weighing 23 pounds, 1 ounce. It was a $10,000 dollar bag.
From 88th to 15th. 35 places above 50th place.
50th place, the Money Line. Above it, you make some cash; below, and this tournament was paid for by you … and all your credit cards.
From going home, from staying in bed, to fishing another day.
Which is what it is all about,
Fishing another day.
Do well on Saturday, you get to fish Sunday.
Do well Sunday … you win.
You win, and every 17-hour day is worth every minute.
A work ethic win.
Chalk one up for the working stiff.
” … keeping my mind on a better life
where happiness is only a heartbeat away.”
Virginia Tech Bass Fishing Team Club Tournament
Last Sunday, the Virginia Tech Bass Fishing Team had their 5th Club Tournament of the year on Claytor Lake. Claytor has been producing phenomenally all winter (due to castable umbrella rigs and warm weather) but she decided to clam up for us on Sunday. Though most of the Team had good catches practicing Friday and Saturday in the warming weather, for whatever reason the fish decided to not bite lake-wide.
I caught up with the winners Ryan Saville and Tyler Meighan for an explanation of the winning pattern. They fished homemade Alabama Rigs with 3 and 3.5 inch swimbaits on the outside and a 4 inch swimbait on the inside. They used a combination of Swimming Flukes, Shad-A-Licious swimbaits, and Money Minnows on ¼ ounce heads. According to Tyler, the key for their big bites was taking advantage of the brief periods of sun between rain showers and “situating [their] boat in 20-30 feet of water [and] casting to points.” They spent all their time on the main lake fishing for winter fish that had yet to move up.
Both Ryan and Tyler are first years on the Virginia Tech Bass Fishing Team and though Ryan is graduating this spring, Tyler said; “I definitely feel that this will set me up for a run next year.” Considering that both Ryan and Tyler had little tournament experience prior to this year it is certainly a great accomplishment for them.
PALATKA, Fla. — Alton Jones’ Sunday victory on the St. Johns River was all the sweeter for the redemption sprinkled on top.
He finally got the St. Johns Bassmaster Elite Series win that slipped through his fingers last season. That memory, and the fact that he ran out of time Sunday to entice a lunker he could see on a bed, gave the pro from Woodway, Texas, a few tense moments as he was waiting for the final-day trek to the scales. He was feeling shaky despite the 9-pound lead he had going into the day.
But win he did, with 75 pounds, 9 ounces and by a margin of 1 pound, 2 ounces, over runner-up Todd Faircloth of Jasper, Texas.
“I am absolutely speechless that I won. I entered the weigh-in line today thinking I had lost this tournament. It was a complete reversal of fortune from last year,” he said. “That’s all gone now. It always feels good to win.”
What he won was $100,000 and an instant berth in the 2013 Bassmaster Classic. He also is leading the Toyota Tundra Bassmaster Angler of the Year race.
“That’s what I’m most excited about,” he said. “To have a Classic qualification frees me up to really go for Angler of the Year, take a few more risks in other tournaments this season.”
Jones said on Sunday he tried to ignore his 9-pound lead, knowing one lunker off a bed by one of the pros chasing him would be his undoing.
“I knew I had to go out and pretend like I was 2 pounds behind,” said Jones, who won the Bassmaster Classic in 2008 and has won four other Bassmaster events but had never landed an Elite Series win.
Faircloth’s 20-pound, 10-ounce bag of Sunday could have stopped Jones in his tracks if only Jones had stumbled a bit. And Jones almost did. His 12-11 of Sunday was his lightest over four days, and he had to work hard to get that.
“I left it all out on the water,” said Jones, a pro’s way of saying he did everything he could think of to win.
Jones started the St. Johns River Showdown under the radar: 17th place after Day One. He became a big player with his Day Two sack of 28-7 — the tournament’s largest — and he snapped up the lead by more than 7 pounds. By the third day, he was up by 9 pounds.
Jones relied on sight fishing all four days in several areas of the river’s Lake George.
“I wasn’t around a lot of fish, I was just around a few good fish,” he said. “The important thing was to be in an area where the fish were wanting to spawn, and that I probably moved faster than a lot of the guys out there. And not stopping and locking up on the little ones was the key.”
Each day, he intentionally left some of the males on beds so that they’d draw the bigger females he knew he would need to excel at the scales.
He said his primary lure of the week was a 6-inch junebug-colored Yum Dinger; it was the bait that brought him all his fish heavier than 4 pounds. Junebug is the color he automatically ties on when fishing in Florida.
“I have a lot of confidence in that color, and if it’s working, I don’t switch it,” he said.
His largest bass of Sunday, which he described as a “5-something female,” he caught at about 11:30. He said he spent the remainder of the day searching for larger fish, and filling his limit with a few smaller ones. He spent his last two hours of the tournament trying for a bedding female in the 6-pound class.
“I really thought I was going to catch her. She was behaving right, but there just wasn’t enough time to do it,” Jones said. “I knew if I caught that fish, I’d win this tournament. Honestly, I thought that if I didn’t catch that fish, I was really leaving the door open for someone else.”
And he knew the “someone else” was probably Faircloth, but Faircloth ended the day where he began it, runner-up to Jones.
Faircloth said he fished clean, with no mistakes and in keeping with a sight fishing plan that he stuck with.
“I really felt good about today, like I had a shot at the win. I never felt like I was out of it. I knew Alton would have to have a day like he had today for me to catch him, but I was just that one fish short,” Faircloth said.
“I had a 3 1/2-pounder, so if I had caught another 4- or 5-pounder, it would have been real close. I could sit here and go through the ‘woulda-coulda-shoulda,’ but I trusted my instincts and I don’t know what else I would have done differently.”
Like Jones, Faircloth fished Lake George, but he said they didn’t share water. His final two days, he keyed in on a line between eelgrass and dollar-pad vegetation that had a slightly harder bottom attractive to bass as good bedding sites. The bass he got from that area was what pulled him up from 19th place on the first day and into contention by Day Four.
Faircloth’s primary lures were a Yamamoto Senko in watermelon black flake and a Yamamoto Flappin’ Hog.
The other Top 5 finishers in the St. Johns River Showdown were Keith Combs of Huntington, Texas, who climbed from 46th on Day One to take third place with 71-2; Brent Chapman of Lake Quivira, Kan., with a steady performance over four days for fourth place with 67-8; and Skeet Reese of Auburn, Calif., in fifth with 64-5.
Local favorite Terry Scroggins of San Mateo, Fla., finished sixth with 60-11, a big move from 35th place on Day One. First-day leader J Todd Tucker of Moultrie, Ga., finished 12th with 51-15.
Bonuses earned by anglers at the St. Johns River Showdown included:
Carhartt Big Bass of the tournament, which paid $750, plus another $750 if the angler was wearing Carhartt clothing: Greg Hackney’s 10-9 of Day One
Berkley Heavyweight Award of $500 for the best five-fish limit: Jones’ 28-7 of Day Two
Power-Pole Captain’s Cash of $1,000 if the winner has Power-Poles installed on his boat: Jones
Toyota $1,000 bonus to the leader in the Toyota Tundra Bassmaster Angler of the Year points race: Jones
Elite Series competition continues this week with the Power-Pole Slam on Florida’s famed Lake Okeechobee. The event will begin Thursday and run through Sunday at C. Scott Driver Park, Highway 78 West in Okeechobee, Fla. As always, fans can watch the Elite Series event in person and online at Bassmaster.com, which provides free, full access to all pages and features.
Winners of the first Region 2 event held on Lake Gaston on March 18th was Cedric Marshall and Greg Lindsey with 6 fish and a total weight of 16.66lbs….
In my dreams as a child, the rusty metal latch would slide with a squeak across the wood of the gate.
A gate painted green and covered with light brown dirt.
It would slowly creak open, pulled by an unknown hand.
I would spit, adjust my neck, my hat, spit.
Then I would slam the baseball into my leather glove, the one with the bitten rawhide strings, and step forward.
And the crowd would boo.
And the crowd would call me names.
And none of it mattered.
Mattered none because I heard none of it, I just stared ahead, stared ahead and walked slowly towards the batter. My eyes locked on his eyes, his eyes on mine.
And with every step a calm came over me, I knew that very shortly whatever was about to happen would be good for one of us.
Bad for the other.
And right before walking up the dirt of the mound, I would look down at the ground….and smile. Then I would look up, and smile at the man holding the bat.
And he would smile back.
For it was the time.
The time we both were here for.
The time we both chased.
The Moment, had arrived.
And I would climb the dirt and take my place on the little strip of white, and shake off every call, until came the call I wanted.
Heat.
Smoke.
And I would smile, and the man with the bat would smile, and I would twirl the ball in my hand, feel the laces sting my fingers, and I would slowly lean back and, with every ounce of power from my head to my toes, I would fling the ball and a rocket string…
…straight down the line, chest high…
….and watch as the man with the bat reared back…
…as Babe Ruth began to swing.
“…want to reign from a hero’s chair…”
I never wanted to be Babe Ruth.
I never wanted to hit the home run in the bottom of the ninth to win the World Series.
I wanted to be the guy who threw…strike one.
Strike Two.
Strike Three.
Bye-bye, Ruthy…see you next season.
I never wanted to be the fancy pants, got all the money, got all the girls, running back.
I wanted to be the working stiff middle linebacker just standing there on the goal line, one second left on the clock, just standing there saying to myself in my helmet….”Please come my way…please come my way…please come my way.”
Dare You.
I never wanted to be Michael Jordan letting go the round ball as the clock on top the board hit zero…I wanted to be on the other team, wanted to be the guy in the air with his hand about to go above the rim and swat the ball into the laps of the glitterati sitting in the first row.
I want to win it on your home field.
Be door handle to door handle with Dale Earnhardt Sr. going into the last turn on the last lap.
It is not the win I want so much as the ability to TAKE the victory from you.
And if you are a real competitor, you want nothing but the same thing yourself.
You want, The Moment.
That one split second of time…that one micro-fraction in the universe when YOU….GET….IT.
I believe all sports comes down to the chase for that moment.
The Moment.
The moment that can only be described as Pure Competition.
The moment when it is only YOU vs something, or someone.
The Purity of Sport, moment.
“…some are scared to fly so high…”
It is why we take to the field. No matter the field.
But Babe Ruth is gone.
I’m a short fat (getting thinner though) old guy so my days of Middle Linebacking and swatting down basketballs while flying above the paint, are over.
Actually never came, but whatever hope I had for the miracle that would bring them…not so much anymore.
But the fire burns.
The fire burns even hotter.
The Moment, the moment, just give me the moment one last time. One last time.
Please.
So, I’m thinking, in this sport we have a dude who most out there acknowledge as being one of the best competitors out there in this and in just about any sport.
Kevin VanDam.
KVD.
I don’t know if Kevin is the best angler ever, the best angler out there right now, whatever, I don’t really care.
But with Kevin I sense this, he wins as much as he does, has as much success as he does, because he may in fact be the best COMPETITOR I have ever been around.
When this dude flips the “Compete Switch” on…IT’S ON…and you better buckle up.
I have that as a direct quote about him.
From his Mom.
MOMKVD.
Let me tell you this, if you are in a church baking contest and a truck wrapped in Bake Goods stuff pulls up to the Bake Off and MOMKVD steps out…you better be baking some mystical magical cookies…because that’s what MOMKVD is bringing.
MOMKVD is the one bringing the Competitor gene to the KVD gene pool.
So we have this Hall Of Fame Competitor here on the tour…KVD…and I say this to him, “No offense dude, but I think I can take you.”
He is kind of a meek looking guy, talks well, always polite, but still looks like the kid in gym class who was the snapee and not the snapper of the gym towel.
Which tells me one thing.
He is a, The Moment, Junkie. Ever searching for The Purity of Sport rush.
Like me.
So as we look at each other both of us are thinking the same thing.
You the bug.
Me the windshield.
Epic, The Moment, searchers.
“db…let’s do like a triathlon thing…three events…three events of me kicking your butt.”
I look up at him exactly as the car wash dude looks at the bugs he is cleaning off the windshield and say, “You’re on.”
So after much negotiation based mainly on my concern over what my CIGNA Medical Insurance will cover and what they won’t…we have picked the events:
Billiards.
Bowling.
Darts.
SVD, Kevin’s wife, a good friend of mine, has promised me that she will immediately inform me if a construction crew starts building a bowling alley in the basement of their home, if some British speaking guy with an English Pub T-shirt on carrying a bag of darts knocks on their door, or if anyone named Mr. Brunswick starts to rent out the room above their garage.
Not saying that the massively competitive KVD is going to start doing some sort of clandestine practicing since I somehow forgot to set an “Off Limits” time period before we shook hands, BUT, the dude has way more charge cards than I do so I’m just protecting myself.
So the first db vs KVD challenge is going to be Billiards.
To which he told me last night, “db…I’m going to come at you as hard as I come at any of my competitors.”
“Uh huh…but KVDUDE…if I have the chance, I’m taking you out dude. Bing. Bang. Boom.”
And for a fraction of a second we just stood there and locked eyes.
And I thought one word….swing.
And I’m sure he thought just one word too…pitch.
This drilling down to the core moment in sports is going to be great, great to give everyone an understanding of why the best of the best perform as they do. And how that transcends the field of play to include the field of life.
And also to give you an idea from me just how exciting it is to be…
…the windshield.
“…well this is how we have to try
have no envy and no fear.” No Envy No Fear
One of my favorite techniques in the early spring time is throwing a mid depth crankbait around secondary points. Cranking has been a long time, pre-spawn staple for all bass fishermen but there is more to it than randomly bombing your crankbait across any and every point that you come across. When done right, tournaments will be won and personal best stringers will be caught.
There are certain things that I look for to make sure that I spend more time in productive water. Before any other decisions are made, I first want to know what the water temperature is. I really like cranking points in the spring when the water is in the mid-fifties and the fish have started moving from their wintering areas towards where they will spawn. They will typically progress from primary points to secondary points and then into their spawning pockets so I really want to visualize where they are coming from and where they are heading. This will make your time spent on the water much more efficient. Secondly, I prefer to fish in areas that have some color to the water. By fishing stained water, I can fish a little shallower and the pattern holds up much better with the changing conditions. Finally, I want to look for secondary points that are at the mouth of spawning pockets. The larger the spawning area, the more fish that will pass by the point going to spawn thus it is a higher percentage area.
In order to be able to take full advantage of this technique, you need to make sure you have the proper equipment. I have had great success with Spro Little John MD crankbaits tied to either twelve pound Sunline Reaction FC flurocarbon or eleven pound Sunline Defier copolymer. In colder water, I prefer flurocarbon as it causes the Little John to suspend. When the water temperature is warmer, I feel that I get more bites with the copolymer since it allows the Little John to slowly rise. I really try to keep color selection to a minimum but I want to have a crawdad color and a shad color to cover whatever conditions I run across. Personally, the two that I have had the most success on are the Fire Craw and Nasty Shad but Spro produces numerous excellent colors that will work just fine so pick the ones that give you the most confidence. The rod and reel that you throw my Little Johns on is very important to me as well. Some people like a graphite rod for cranking but I prefer a composite blank and have had great success with Quantum’s Tour KVD Cranking rods paired with the new Quantum EXO reels.
In the next few weeks, the fish will either be set up on secondary points or will be heading in that direction. So grab your crankbait box and start targeting secondary points. It might surprise you by what you catch. Hopefully you will surprise your buddies back at the ramp!
Buy a bottle of Milo’s Sweet Tea and head back past the Nuclear Plant and turn right at on our street, park, walk inside as Paul Elias and Shaw Grigsby, my roommates for the 2012 Bassmaster Elite Series season, look at me and start giggling …
Paul gave it his best shot … this is a Bassmaster Classic winner, winner of 6 events, 41 Top 10 finishes, 7,479 pounds of bass caught, almost a MILLION dollars won … and he is still in bed.
After Day One of the tournament, Shaw was in 88th place with 7 pounds 11 ounces.
