An excitement that never fades

It’s that time of year when I get just as excited about the Bassmaster Classic as I did when I was fishing in it.

Sure, it’s a different kind of excitement from what I experienced when I was a competitor, but I still love how the bass fishing community from around the country and beyond comes together and shares the thrill of the Super Bowl of Bass Fishing.

I’ll never forget 1986, when I sat as a spectator in the upper deck of the Chattanooga, Tenn., arena. It was incredible to be there during Classic week, get autographs from my heroes and to see they were normal people who were fishing for a living. When I watched Champion Charlie Reed circle the arena floor in a boat with his family while hoisting the American flag, it sent chills down my spine – and it still does today.

More notably, it set me on fire. I knew this was the profession I wanted, and I hoped to someday ride around an arena with my family and the flag in front of thousands of fans.

I was fortunate to fish 14 of them, win one and finish second in another, yet I still feel similar emotions being there in my role as a TV analyst.

I love watching the emotions in the faces of those competing in their first Classic as well as those who have been there before.

When I fished my first in 1993 at Logan Martin, Ala., it was surreal; I was a nervous rookie kid just glad to be there. I was in awe of the star anglers around me, especially Roland Martin whom I had watched on TV since I was a youngster.

That’s why I have to chuckle when I hear Classic rookies refer to the event as “just another tournament.”

They find out there is a lot more to it than just going fishing. You feel pressure to make a good showing for your sponsors and family that traveled from afar to see you compete on the biggest stage in bass fishing. My primary goal was to catch something to be able to walk onto that stage and make my family proud.

After a couple Classics, I learned to settle down and focus, and that helped me finish second in 1996 and eventually win it in 1999.

The Classic is wildly different from a seasonal event as you are surrounded by distractions, obligations and surrounded by fans who want to meet you.

I remember pulling up to my first spot in my rookie Classic and watching Denny Brauer go by with 21 spectators chasing behind him.

I told my observer, “Man, wouldn’t it be cool to have that many fans following you?”

Well, in 1997 after I had won the Bassmaster Angler of Year title, I was the last boat to take off the first day. I noticed a lot of boats still around and didn’t think anything about it.

But when I pulled up to the ledge I was going to fish, 41 spectator boats pulled in behind me and four of them started fishing my ledge!

I couldn’t handle it, lost my focus and knew then to be careful what you wish for. I did eventually learn to deal with it, but it’s one of many examples of why it’s so tough to win a Classic.

It’s also worth a lot of money over time and people never forget you won. Although I’ve won Angler of Year twice, I’ve never had anyone introduce me as Davy Hite, two-time AOY winner. It’s always former Classic winner Davy Hite.

Of course, the Classic is a fan experience, one you will always carry with you. I’ve never met anyone — man, woman or child — who didn’t say they truly enjoyed it.

Who knows … sitting in the crowd this year could be a future Classic contender and champion.

I am living proof that dreams do come true.