If you're inclined to root against Kevin VanDam as he piles up one major title after another and offers up more and more evidence that he's the greatest competitive bass angler of all time, then by all means, go for it. That kind of thing is good for the sport.

Other than the fact that he wins too much, it's kind of hard to come up with things to dislike about KVD. You can do it if you try hard enough, though. Some of your reasons might have to be quite absurd, but the only thing that really matters is that you buy into them (or can at least do a credible job of pretending that you do).

I know about this sort of thing because I've done it. From the mid-1980s through the first half of the '90s, I feverishly rooted against San Francisco 49ers quarterback Joe Montana. Living amongst a huge legion of 49er fans here in Northern California and not being one myself, I continually devised the most ridiculous of ways to denigrate the man and his accomplishments. I even resorted to the claim that he looked a lot like sappy pop singer Barry Manilow.

A note of caution, though: Don't try this unless you're the kind of person who's able to withstand a lot of disappointment in exchange for a few, rare instances of jubilation. It can be difficult to keep your dauber up while the object of your animosity keeps reaching new heights.

I had to suffer through three Super Bowl wins by Montana (he won four, but the first occurred before I'd worked up any real enmity toward him) and a lot of frustrating Sundays during the regular season and the playoffs, but it was nonetheless an enjoyable ride. I watched his game every week, paid close attention to everything he did and actually sought out people to lay my ridiculous arguments on. I haven't had anywhere near that kind of fervor for the NFL since that time.

When Montana eventually moved on to Kansas City, I tried – I really tried – to transfer my acrimony to his successor, Steve Young. I just couldn't do it, though. These days my frequent claim (which I might partially believe) is that Young was actually better than Montana. That gets a rise out of a lot of people.

Dynasties are beneficial for sports because they inspire that sort of passion, and it needs to run in both directions – for and against. When Tiger Woods was completely dominating golf a decade ago, a lot of people paid attention to the tournaments with the hope of seeing him falter. It was the same deal with NASCAR prior to that, when Jeff Gordon showed up and started driving circles around everybody. Plenty of viewers wanted to see him spin out or blow an engine.

Those guys single-handedly made those sports more relevant to mainstream American than they'd ever been before, and their personal success indirectly benefited everybody involved.

My distaste for Montana developed simply because I got tired of people around me telling me how awesome he was. I couldn't deny that he was indeed great – that would've been too preposterous, even for me. I couldn't argue with the results.

I was, however, able to convince myself that rooting against him was a worthwhile endeavor. I could celebrate his infrequent defeats while most people around me were down in the dumps. The only problem was that the reverse was also true, and I ended up receiving a lot more trash-talk than I dished out.

If you have a favorite Bassmaster Elite Series angler and it's not KVD, then you might as well have a least-favorite, too. And if you haven't already tabbed someone for that role, then who better than VanDam? After all, he's the guy's who's primarily responsible for your guy, whomever that may be, not achieving greater glory.

How you go about working up any additional vitriol toward VanDam, though, I don't know. He's a great family man who presents himself well in every situation that arises. He's a superb ambassador for this sport.

By all reliable accounts, Montana was all of those things, too. But there's at least one big difference – I can't think of a lousy singer to whom VanDam bears a great resemblance.