Three years ago, I was introduced to tournament bass fishing by a friend of mine who had just finished his first season participating in tournaments. By that time, I considered myself a pretty good bass fisherman so I said, “Why not?” and registered for the TBF Massachusetts high school division. Nervous but excited, I showed up to the first tournament at South Watuppa Pond in Fall River, MA and placed a surprising 3rd place finish out of 25+ kids. A couple weeks later, I placed 8th at a tough Lake Quinsigamond tournament, which gave me enough points to remain in the top 5 overall for the year and qualified me to fish the Tournament of Champions. At that event, I came in at 4th place and also managed to finish the year in 4th place for the overall rankings. Not bad for my first year tournament fishing. Pleased with my first year competing in tournaments, I came into the new year more experienced and with an almost cocky arrogance. In addition to the TBF Massachusetts high school tournaments, my friend Nick and I also signed up for the Bass Nation Team Trail, a much more competitive division. I had set a goal at the beginning of the year to win just one tournament and set a goal with my friend to qualify for Nationals. The season started terribly as I came in at a lousy 11th place at the first TBF tournament of the year after my boater’s motor had blown out in the middle of the lake. I proceeded to finish 7th at the next tournament which was a respectable place but I wanted to do better. On the Bass Nation team trail, Nick and I had finished 3rd at the first tournament and 5th at the second tournament, missing the National Championship by just two places in the overall rankings. Though that may not seem like a bad finish, I had contributed only one fish in the two tournaments and felt like I had let my partner down. On the top of that, I had also lost a big fish during the first tournament that would have put our team in first place.
My frustration rose with every tournament, and I wonder if I ever wanted to competitively fish anymore. I began to question if tournament fishing was right for me and if I was ever good at fishing to begin with. Somehow I had managed to place well enough to qualify for the TBF Tournament of Champions at the Nashua river in Groton. Nick, who fished in the junior division, had practiced on the river a couple days before the event and even though he had done okay, he told me that it was going to be a tough event. I showed up to the tournament with low expectations and was slightly frustrated as a result of my bad finishes previously in the year. Luckily, I was randomly paired up with Nick and the tournament organizer told me that I would be fishing off of his boat. Since Nick was by far the best fisherman I had met and has won every one of his TBF events, I felt a sliver of hope that I had the potential to do well that day. I decided that I would give it my best effort to fish smart and methodically. Early in the day, we found a 150 yard stretch of bank that was different from all the rest and had the right conditions we were looking for; it was located in a bend of the river where the current had dug an undercut bank that was slightly deeper than the rest of the river. The bank was also lined with overhanging trees and bedding bluegill, which the bass were able to feed on. We started skipping Senkos under the tree, and even though the bite was slow, in a couple of hours I had a limit of good 3.5 pound bass. After boating my fifth fish, a sense of relief came over me and felt almost certain that I had won this tournament. We ran around the river for an hour or two and returned to the bank where we had spent most of the day on. Already having an incredible bag of fish, I picked up a 6 inch swimbait and started skipping it under the trees. After a few minutes of no bites, Nick’s dad said, “Let’s go weigh in, we have already picked all the fish off the bank.” Ironically, I responded, “No, there might still be a 5 pounder here.” No more than 10 seconds later, as I was reeling my bait back to the boat, I felt a violent “thump” through my rod and instinctively set the hook. My rod bent like a noodle as I felt dead weight thrashing on the end of my line and in a couple chaotic seconds, a giant bass lay at the bottom of the net. “That thing has to be over 5 pounds!” I screamed with disbelief. We quickly weighed the fish as an astonishing 5.33 pounds, the biggest fish I caught all year. I placed the fish in the livewell and then just held my head in my hands. “This is insane,” I kept repeating. The next hour flew by as we returned to the ramp, weighed in, and released the fish. I had finished in first place with a 17.82 pound bag, a TBF Massachusetts high school record, and a 5.33 pound largemouth, the biggest fish of the event. Nick had also finished in first place for the middle school division with a 9.64 pound bag.
After the tournament, I sat in the boat, holding my head in my hands and reflecting on what had just happened. The entire year had been nothing but frustration and struggles that had almost caused me to stop fishing in tournaments. But I have learned that nothing in life is easy and no matter how skilled you are, you still need to put in your best efforts and determination to do well. A quote that has resonated with me and became a motivation for me was from Gerald Swindle, after he had won the 2016 Bassmaster Angler of the Year. After having multiple knee surgeries that left him beridden the year prior, Swindle managed to put together a magical season, ending with him winning the most prestigious award in bass fishing. On the biggest stage in fishing, holding back tears, he said, “I just love to fish. I love bass fishing.”