I’m no Rick Clunn or KVD, but after more than a decade of fishing competitively as a kayak angler, co-angler, and now boat angler (and with great mentorship), I’ve come to recognize a few lessons that extend beyond the leaderboard. Whether you’re just starting out or you’re a seasoned tournament pro, these reflections might help you navigate the highs and lows of competitive fishing.
Breaking the Ice
We’ve all been there: You roll up to your starting spot and see another angler making their way to that same saddle you cracked them on in practice, or you see an angler getting a little too close for comfort, and tensions rise quickly, especially when so much is on the line. Nine-point-nine times out of 10, I’ve found that breaking the ice and greeting the angler almost immediately diffuses any awkwardness, and sets a respectful tone. It’s a simple conversation principle that’s too easily suppressed by our competitive nature, but always remember that a friendly approach doesn’t weaken your competitive edge, it helps strengthen our community and reminds us that we are all here for the same reason: the love of the sport.
Tournament fishing is gambling — it’s thrilling, but you never, ever want to count on tournament winnings to put food on the table, unless you’re Drew Gill. But even for Gill, fishing competitively always has its ebbs and flows, and the most consistent of anglers will find themselves in a rut at some point in their career.
I always try to encourage young anglers who are seriously looking to fish professionally to build a foundation that secures as much stability as possible to help balance out what is always, at best, a very volatile career. Counting on cashing checks from every event not only increases your stress levels, but it’s been known to bring out the worst in anglers when it comes to camaraderie and toeing the line between right and wrong.
Years to Earn Respect, Seconds to Lose It
Integrity matters more than ever as our entire industry finds itself under scrutiny right now. Anglers, especially successful ones, are under a microscope. Because of this, I made it a personal rule early on to NEVER operate in the gray; I only look at the rules in black and white.
Our integrity and character are everything, and the times when you turn a bed fish hooked just outside the mouth loose when no one is watching tells the story of who you are as a person. What are championship titles and trophies worth when they are accompanied by an asterisk? In addition to our character on the water and on camera, remember who’s watching us off the water and off camera.
Be consistent in who you are, so you don’t contribute to the social media personality facade. The way we carry ourselves when no one is watching tells a far bigger story than any weigh-in, and it also sets the precedent for young anglers coming up and helps ensure the health of our sport.
Having the Right Perspective
I’ll never forget the day I showed up to the ramp at Dardanelle, frustrated and down on myself for what I considered to be a pitiful performance. I had a mediocre limit, landing me at 35th out of 142 anglers — a finish with which I was not at all satisfied. My phone started ringing: friends wanting to hear how I ended up, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.
As I approached the ramp, I kept my eyes down, trying to avoid any contact with my fellow competitors. I could see someone approaching me in my peripheral vision.
“How did it go out there?!” This man could barely contain his excitement.
“Not great,” I muttered.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, it’s a beautiful day though, and I have to tell you how excited I am to meet you, your videos got me into fishing!” he said.
My demeanor shifted a bit, and I looked up to meet a young man — a fellow competitor — with a grin that stretched across a sunburnt face. I smiled softly, thanked him, and asked how his day was. He proceeded to tell me he had one of the best days on the water, and didn’t spare a detail on every moment that brought him joy.
He turned in two small fish, three shy of a limit, and this man was over the moon about his experience. It was a refreshing reminder to never forget to find your joy, even on days where you didn’t meet your own personal expectations. It’s that joy that prevents us from burning out, and helps preserve our love for this sport, even in competition.
“Your ability to make an impact is not dictated by what the standings say.”
I’ll never forget when Dave Mercer told me this after I mentioned the pressure I felt inadvertently lingering over my head before I decided to fish the Bassmaster Opens. I remember seeing a few conversation boards on popular fishing forums with people arguing about whether or not I’d be “successful,” and I’d be lying if I said it was easy to ignore.
Dave reminded me that, more times than not, a positive attitude, and the ability to not give up regardless of standings, has the power to inspire more people than we think.
I saw this come to fruition at my first bassmaster open at Clarks Hill earlier this year, when two young girls ran up to me and told me that they wanted to fish after seeing me up there on-stage weighing in. It’s true that perseverance, positivity, and showing up even when things don’t go your way to greet a young fan or support the anglers who had a good day can make just as much of a difference as a first-place finish.
—
Tournament fishing will test your patience and your discipline, but it can also provide opportunities to teach us humility and resilience, and it has a way of revealing who are, on good and bad days. It reminds us that success isn’t just measured in trophies or checks. It’s found in how we treat others, how we respond when things don’t go our way, and how we carry ourselves.
The sport gives back what you put into it, but it doesn’t always do so in the ways you expect. The real wins are the relationships built, the respect earned, and the passion for this sport that unites us all.
