Photograph #46: Family…The Kennedys
From Day 1…Family.
From the hotel lobby of my 1st Classic to a large table at the restaurant across the street, to smores in a campground the next night, the Kennedy’s were family.
I’ve held both their children as babies, watched them grow up, my wife and I have met them at Disney, they have come to our house.
They are part of the group of anglers/family who circled the wagons around me in this new gig of Bassmaster which bought me the time needed to understand the sport and those who play it, owned it or worked for it.
They pointed me in the right direction, cautioned me about things, checked to make sure I was alright, fixed the never ending breakdowns of the RV Barb and I bought.
They accepted me as a journalist and me as a knucklehead, can’t ask for more than that.
Forever family.
Photograph #47: The BASS Nation
New faces in new places.
And at each event a growing number of new friends.
Every year at the Nation championship I would watch as one member of the nation would get the chance to compete in the Bassmaster Classic, the Super Bowl of the sport.
I'm not sure if that happens in any other sport, I was stunned the first time I saw it, every other time I couldn’t wait to get to the Nation event.
Nation anglers came from all over the place, mainly from various states but also when I was there from Mexico, Spain, Italy, Australia, Japan, Namibia, Portugal, South Africa and Zimbabwe.
One of the greatest gifts I received while at BASS was a custom jersey from the Spain team.
The head of the Spain team became like family to me, Haaby
The year that the BASS Nation Championship was held in Massachusetts the BASS folks there did a very cool thing they treated the anglers to a baseball game…at FENWAY…the Yankees vs the Red Sox…here’s what I wrote on Bassmaster about it at that time:
“For me I had covered a bunch of things there so it wasn’t earthshaking except for one small part, I was going with and sitting in the stands next to a good friend, the President of the B.A.S.S. Nation club from Spain, Xavier Gonzales-Mestre, M.D., H.S.D. or to us, Haaby.
Haaby founded and was Secretary General of the Catalan Institute of Health in Spain. We had over time become great friends and while we were in the van driving to Fenway he told me in pretty good English, “I have never been in seats to a baseball game.”
To which I replied, “Haaby you’re going to be in some old seats in a historic stadium and oh by the way, the Red Sox are playing the Yankees tonight.”
And even with a bit of a language problem between us, he smiled, he got that, Red Sox vs. Yankees in Fenway.
We sat next to each other in the stands, I explained some stuff, told him I would be right back “have to hit the head,” and left but it was a lie. When I came back I handed him a small bag of peanuts and a box of Cracker Jacks.
When I sat down he just patted my leg and smiled, through baseball we had made a transatlantic connection that needed no interpretation.
My second favorite memory is climbing back in the van to go back to the hotel and seeing Haaby sitting in the back smiling and wearing a Boston Red Sox cap.”
Haaby passed several years ago but even with an ocean and a language between us we were great friends.
I think the BASS Nation is one of the best things that BASS does, I also think they can do a better job with it, involve more countries, police the rules more often, stuff like that.
No Nation, No BASS.
There ya go.
God bless Haaby, God bless,
db
Photograph #48: The Wait
Between launch and weigh-in lies eternity.
Their loved ones out on the water competing.
The wives on their phones, updating.
In a Waffle House booth, young children by their side, cell phone in hand, refresh, look, worry, hope.
Back at the campground, their young children playing outside, cell phone in hand, refresh, look, worry, hope.
Friday, make the cut day, make a check day.
Food, gas, mortgage, shoes/clothes for the kids.
One credit card, two credit cards, three credit cards.
Make the cut.
We cheer those who stand on the stage, we cheer those who hold up the big fish, we cheer those who launch into the sunrise.
Cheer also those who remain on the dock.
Cheer also the wives, girlfriends and family of the men in the Bass boats.
I know those of the wait, I hung around with the wives & girlfriends, they are the strongest folks I know, they watch, and they worry, they work to somehow keep some sense of normalcy in life.
Cheer also for them.
Photograph #49: First Safe Light
They launch into the sunrise.
Their field of play constantly changes.
Experience is their only coach.
It is pay to play at the professional level.
Some of the competitors are in their sixties, others are in their twenties, and yet they go head to head.
The names you know have sponsor money to help compete, the names you will learn usually don’t have a lot of sponsor bucks.
Practice is Monday & Tuesday, dawn to dusk, Wednesday until about noon, gameday for all is Thursday & Friday, Saturday only about half are still in the game, Sunday only 10 or so are left in the game.
If you aren’t fishing on Saturday, you don’t get paid.
Sunrise, sunset looks the same from the middle of the lake.
Sunrise, sunset looks different from the middle of the lake for those who get to fish the next day…
…and for those who go home.
