There’s a lot of big tournaments in the bass fishing world, but there’s only one Bassmaster Classic. Last week, in Greenville, S.C., B.A.S.S. ensured it kept that claim by hosting an event that could only be described as overwhelming.
Before any of you perceive an agenda to my report, let me back up by explaining the reasons behind my claim. While B.A.S.S. once again pulled out all the stops to put on a big show, they weren’t the party solely responsible for such a home-run event. No, this was a joint venture, between the organization responsible for the origination of the sport and a city responsible for pushing it further.
B.A.S.S. came to play ball, but Greenville came to win.
It would be impossible for me to describe to casual pro bass fans in, say, Michigan, exactly what goes down when a Southern community embraces professional bass fishing. They simply wouldn’t believe me.
Busloads of spectators flooded to the launch, despite record low temperatures in the single-digits on opening morning. Traffic jams caused downtown gridlock after weigh-in. On the final day of the expo, crowd size was likely monitored by the fire marshal.
And let me make it clear: These logistical issues existed despite the most efficient, professional response by a city government – including police officers, traffic directors and volunteers – that I have ever seen at a bass fishing event. This deal was big-time.
But what does all of this mean to us fans of the sport? Are we in for bigger and better things?
Prior to the weekend, I discussed just this subject with my wife. News of the Classic had spread to the Weather Channel where, evidently, clueless meteorologists tried to explain the impact freezing temperatures have on fishing tournaments. Boy, we’re big-time now, right?
Maybe.
I mentioned how I remembered reading about the Classic for the first time in USA Today, and how I thought then that bass fishing was big-time. Or when FLW’s best appeared on the Wheaties box, when Denny Brauer was on Letterman, or when ESPN bought B.A.S.S. or Scott Suggs won seven figures. That’s when we were really big-time, or poised to be, so I thought.
So, after a couple decades of relative disappointment, I wouldn’t normally get too excited about another indicator of bass fishing PR success. But this was different; this was an indicator like no other in the measure of cultural popularity: fans.
Sure, there have been notable fan events before. The Classics in Richmond were, at one time, held at the pinnacle. Last year’s Elite Series event in Philly was epic, as reported by those attending. And FLW had a few tourneys around the turn of the century that were real barn-burners. But none seemed to have the energy of this one, combined with the professional approach that one would expect when a known, major sporting event is in town.
But, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s first start by thanking the economy. Regardless of where you give credit, the economy is in much better shape than it was just a short time ago. That makes a tremendous difference in leisure activities and sports centered around the money spent there.
The outcome of the event also comes into play as, for the second year in a row, the Classic was won by a hometown hero who couldn’t have been a better champion, as far as the fans were concerned.
There aren’t many places left in the world where a grown man still refers to his father on stage as “daddy,” but, here in the friendliest state in the country, locals were proud to hear Casey Ashley do so.
As I’ve said in the past, I swear B.A.S.S. scripts these things. Ashley started with a respectable day 1, held his ground on day 2, and poured the coals on in the final lap using a technique and lure crafted by his father in his garage. It was pure bass fishing perfection. It was a young kid dreaming of being a bass pro, and his parents dreaming with him, rather than scoffing at the idea. It was that kid grown into the world champion with a Hollywood smile grounded by Southern courtesy; his father and son by his side to hug, laugh and cry.
Ashley was a home run for sponsors, especially those who also line up with B.A.S.S. He sang the National Anthem prior to the day-1 takeoff, for God’s sake.
The Classic also surely solidified it’s long-term placement in the winter. If B.A.S.S. could fish an event on these terms, nothing will stop them now, despite occasional grumbling from fans and industry insiders who miss the summer events. If anything, I’d think we may even see the event attempted farther north.
However, all of these indicators of pro fishing success aren’t without a little concern; even a tear in the corner of my eye. Such progress often changes things, and we’re seeing that. The days of walking up and interacting with the pros, both by fans and the press, are ending, as evidence by a complete “no admittance” policy in many locales throughout the tournament. At similar events, a press badge has always been the "golden ticket". At this Classic, it was about as impressive as a hand stamp to get back in the bar.
And I wonder how long ESPN will be involved in the sport, despite the sale of B.A.S.S. It’s obvious that the network's involvement has increased popularity by leaps and bounds. GoPro’s presence also can’t be ignored. But, as in the past, anything we see as progress contributed to entities outside of fishing is always tentative, almost dangerous. We love it when the cameras are on us, but bite our nails waiting for them to go off at any time.
Regardless, this Classic will go down as a masterpiece, making it two in a row. The final day weigh-in was preceded by a Classic video highlight reel that was the best production I’ve ever seen in our sport. It had every attendee on the edge of their seat, mixed with a strong musical feel that took us all back to yesteryear. Mid-stream, a tribute to 9-11 made us all cry.
Undoubtedly, Casey Ashley is on top of the world. Unfortunately, I rode as a press observer with pros who didn’t fare so well, yet were forced to take it all in stride. Such is the two-headed monster of bass fishing.
Next week, we’ll investigate that more. I’ll share with you my thoughts and perception while sitting in a boat for 8 hours with a guy who is struggling while his buddies become world famous. I’ll investigate more what makes these men different from the tens of thousands who aspire to be them, and those who go down in a ball of fire trying. We’ll dive deep into how easy it is to remain flexible, as long as you’re not the one casting against the clock.
I look forward to sharing my thoughts with you then.
(Joe Balog is the often outspoken owner of Millennium Promotions, Inc., an agency operating in the fishing and hunting industries. A former Bassmaster Open and EverStart Championship winner, he's best known for his big-water innovations and hardcore fishing style. He's a popular seminar speaker, product designer and author, and is considered one of the most influential smallmouth fishermen of modern times.)
