My whirlwind rookie season is over, and to tell you the truth, I am worn out. There were some tremendous highs and more lows than I wanted to experience, but the bottom line is that I’m still learning every time I hit the water. If all goes according to plan, I’ll build on the successes and try not to repeat the missteps going forward.
Like any sport, bass fishing is tough on rookies. No matter how much you’ve fished, or how versatile you think you might be, the road and the water take a toll on you. One thing I learned is that no matter how many people are rooting you on from home it can get lonely on the road if you don’t have camaraderie from your peers.
It’s critical to have people you can bounce ideas off, people who can relate to what you’re going through at that very moment. I found some other anglers I meshed with as the season progressed. While it’ll always be an individual sport, next year I expect to have a better support system.
I learned that it’s also critical to minimize the impact of negative things that are out of your control. On the way to Chickamauga, I had the sidewalls blow out on two trailer tires and that cost me a bunch of time. Similarly, but even more harmful, at Oahe I had mechanical issues that interrupted my practice and my tournament. Those things happen to everybody, so I’m not making excuses. Rather, I’m explaining that it just makes it all that much more critical to take advantage of the opportunities that present themselves when things are going well.
Furthermore, I’m learning what the “unwritten rules” are, and how I can put my best foot forward in competition without any resulting ethical breaches. At Pickwick, for example, it was a ledge deal, and we were playing round-robin. By the time I got to my best spot, Jacob Foutz was sitting there with 17 pounds in his livewell, and I sat and watched as he continued to catch fish.
I stayed back, but since I’d found those same fish I now realize that I should have explained that to him, and then pulled up next to him. He might not have been thrilled by it, but he’s enough of a pro to have made it work from trolling motor to trolling motor. I ended up running to my second spot, which was 20 minutes away, and when I got there my rod started to buzz. I was legitimately scared for my life, and that of my Marshal, but as I got us to safety I let the situation spin me out. Instead, I should have calmed down and formulated a game plan.
Indeed, that’s the biggest lesson I learned this season – it’s critical to always have a plan B and a plan C when your first option doesn’t go according to the script. Nothing works against your forever, but you need to be able to make things happen.
Those situations above were tough on me, but every time I started to question myself something buoyed my spirits. The St. Johns River tournament was a highlight, but so was Chickamauga, where I went out with a camera on Day 2 before eventually finishing 14th.
At the next event, on Lake Fork, I had a 27-plus pound day. It was one of the best days of my life. I’ve never seen so many 5-pound-plus fish schooling in one place. Those are the memories that keep you in the game and enable you to keep on pushing. It only takes one good fish catch or one good decision to flip the script.
One of the things that makes me most thankful for this season is how close it was to not happening at all. As I drove across Texas in February in a snowstorm — not typical conditions for a kid from Hawaii — on the way to our season opener, I spun the truck out. Luckily I wasn’t hurt and there wasn’t any damage, but my season could have been over before it started.
Looking back, tens of thousands of windshield miles ago, it seems like a lifetime ago. I’m hardly a grizzled veteran, and I still have a lot to learn. The humbling nature of this sport only wants to make me continue to grind away and get better. Thank you all for your well-wishes and your continued support. I promise to keep on working to make everyone proud.
