Recently, I received a message from former Bassmaster Elite Series pro, Kenyon Hill, informing me that our longtime friend, Mark Tucker had passed. The news came as a total shock. Mark was the last person either of us expected to go so early in life.
He was 62, but had the body and drive of a 35 year old.
Mark was all about good health and maintaining his body. He took vitamins, ate right, worked out … all while performing his job as a concrete finisher and competing in bass tournaments.
While on the Elite Series, he was my roommate. We traveled together with Kenyon and Peter Thliveros. That was our crew, and we were stronger for it — each pushing the other. Yet Mark was clearly the most disciplined.
He was a physical specimen, cut like the weight lifter he was. And definitely not someone you should piss off. His fuse was sometimes short, but he was also fair.
Most will remember him for his good nature and smile as big as his biceps.
Mark the angler
Mark loved fishing, and he was good at it. So good, in fact, he qualified for eight Bassmaster Classics and won $750,000 in his career with B.A.S.S.
His crowning moment came in a Central Open on Lake Lewisville in Texas, where he edged out his closest challenger for the win and an automatic berth to his final Bassmaster Classic.
Although that victory came on a jerkbait, Mark was best known for his jig-fishing skills. If there was a jig bite to be had, you might as well stroke him a check. He was that good.
Mark epitomized the phrase “power fisherman.” He was skilled with buzzbaits, walking baits, spinnerbaits, bladed jigs, shallow crankbaits and anything that could be flipped or pitched. And though finesse fishing wasn’t his preference, he was pretty handy with a spinning outfit as well — jokingly referring to them as “egg beaters.”
Wherever the tour took us — no matter how challenging — he found a way to survive, if not excel. And no other angler prepared their equipment more meticulously than Mark Tucker … other than, perhaps, Aaron Martens.
Tucker spent countless hours organizing and rigging his tackle. It was almost as if he enjoyed that more than fishing itself.
His truck and boat were always spit-polish clean. His tackle, the same. The compartments of his boat were like the shelves of a convenience store — everything perfectly placed and easily accessed with no room for clutter.
Mark the road warrior
Some of my best memories are of traveling with Mark, Pete and Kenyon. Back then, the Elite Series was truly a “national tour.” We fished from coast to coast, border to border … each destination an adventure.
We discovered the best places to eat and sleep, and the safest routes to travel. And we learned them together, the four of us. That was our crew.
Eating on the road with Tucker was always an experience. Although he stood 5 feet, 10 inches and weighed 175 pounds, he could out-consume Pete and Kenyon on their best day — both of whom, at the time, were sumo-sized men.
For breakfast, Mark would order no less than four eggs (sometimes six), two orders of bacon and/or sausage, extra hash browns, extra toast or biscuits, pancakes, juice and multiple coffees. By the time he was done, it looked like he had swallowed a watermelon. But that’s how he liked to start his day.
Dinners, too, were feasts. Despite his size, Tucker ate like a gladiator celebrating a victory. I called him “Marcus Aurelius” because of it.
Mark lived life to its fullest — even on his last day, when he killed a massive 10-point buck and dragged it through the woods, all the way back to his truck.
Later that day, he passed peacefully in his sleep. And it’s so hard to believe he’s gone.
Mark in memory
The time I spent traveling with Mark made me a better angler … a more disciplined person. And I think Pete and Kenyon would say the same.
Mark commanded respect, and showed those the same respect given him. He loved to share stories of fishing and hunting, and told them with the enthusiasm of a kid, emphasizing every detail.
He talked about his brothers, his mom and dad, and his wife Cheryl. Family was important to Mark. He was well grounded and God fearing. And I know I speak for Kenyon, Pete and all the guys on tour that knew him, Mark Tucker will be missed.
Rest in peace, Brother. You earned it.
