A Job For A 10-Year-Old

As a young man, I spent a great deal of my time fishing. Adventures in the park turned into an obsession on the Great Lakes, followed by expansion into every form of angling.

I assume this behavior was a result of the unresolved curiosity of my youth. Today, I spend more time thinking about fishing, or reading about it, than I do casting. This sounds depressing. But I’ve learned that our perception of fishing is as important as the game itself.

Recently, I again took on the task of reading Tom McGuane’s The Longest Silence. I’d tried before, and failed. McGuane is not an easy read. A product of the literary 1970s, his vocabulary is robust to the point of showing off, something he does every chapter or so, requiring me to go back time and again to get the point.

Out of nowhere, then, McGuane tosses in a gem requiring a highlighter. Something all anglers can take with them to the house.

“The meaning of fishing lies more in its context than its practice,” McGuane writes, after discovering that fact through his mentor, author Roderick Haig-Brown.

That context, of course, is the outdoors. Nature. The perfect place that fishing authors have swooned over since the beginning.

Earlier fishing journalists were naturalists. Today, fishing, especially bass fishing, is represented by a much different viewpoint. Today, as we know, nothing matters except the next gadget and hero shots of the giant bag. One big bass in a photo is not enough. Today’s critics demand five.

But I’ve often wondered, are modern anglers so different?

Again looking back to my own experience, like many fishing junkies, I grew up enamored with the outdoors. Creek chubs and grasshoppers first stole the show. Once I figured out how to catch each, and use them for bait, the sky was the limit. My natural obsession expanded. Frogs became fair game. I soon learned to ignore their sad eyes when running an Eagle Claw through their lips.

The world of artificial lures brought a new frontier. Now, it was a matter of figuring out the bass and taking my game to them, rather than waiting for them to come to me. Weather patterns emerged, along with water temperature readings, signaling the best times for each lure in the tackle box.

Cover led to structure. Advanced equipment created precise casts and the ability to feel the bottom, understanding more about the fish’s natural environment. Days on the water blended into years, evolving an awareness of where to be, and when, for a successful catch. Weather and nature always held the upper hand, humbling any angler too sure of their ability.

It was never ability, after all. Just a successful string of guesses.

Today, we see our sport, and the portrayal of it, completely different. I wonder how that happened. Often, I feel we’re really missing the boat.

“The younger generation,” we hear “is into technology. That’s just how they operate.”

Are we supposed to assume, then, that the younger generation of bass anglers are oblivious to the same foundations that the rest of us grew up on? Did they never get their time with grasshoppers and frogs?

Did artificial experiences somehow push young anglers toward bass fishing?

I say no way. The younger generation, just like every generation before it, has gained interest in the sport through the wonders of the natural world. At no time, I believe, did a young kid sit in school daydreaming about operating a sonar unit. They daydream about adventure.

We do a disservice, then, when we present no response to this fact, and instead offer bass fishing entirely in one direction. There’s a lot more to this sport than first-place trophies and driving technology. Or there should be.

McGuane writes that “Americans … are sufficiently tainted … to feel that to play is to sin or waste time…” and that we need to associate ourselves “with manufacturers so that our days afield offer a higher purpose of product research, promotions and development.”

Written 25 years ago, McGuane’s statements couldn’t be more true of bass fishing today.

So is that it for our sport? Are we destined to be driven by the unnatural aspects of fishing, forever using the excuse that it’s the fault of the younger generation?

Those in charge of the mainstream narrative would be wise to look around. Adventure, again, is beginning to take precedence over engineered outcomes.

Bass anglers are turning their attention to other forms of media, less interested today in what were once the gold standards of the sport. Documentary-style videos, void of sponsor plugs (or depthfinder screenshots) gobble up millions of views. Brands from outside of bass fishing – often with drastically fewer participants – dwarf the big fishing brands in terms of social media following.

The reason lies in the basic principle of what brought us here in the first place. A trip outside. Trying to outsmart a fish with a hook, line and sinker.

We’d be smart to revisit that.

(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.)

---