I would like to preface this article by letting you know it might be a little long, but worth the read….enjoy!
Over my many years of fishing Pro/Am bass tournaments, I have run across some very interesting characters. For me, one of the most intriguing parts of fishing these types of tournaments is the people you meet, anglers you get to spend eight hours with inside a bass boat. It’s an opportunity to learn even if they are a novice angler in terms of skills. Most are very cordial and pleasant to be around. But then there are the ones who you can’t get out of your boat soon enough.
I’ve only had two that fall into the category of “get off my lawn” or in my case “get out of my boat!” One angler I had the pleasure of drawing was at a National Championship event on Red River. That’s right, a huge event in my backyard and I was in position to win. After day one, I was sitting in 3rd place going into the final day just a little less than three pounds behind the leader. My day one partner (co-angler) was an awesome guy and we both had good 5-fish limits as he was sitting in 4th on the co-angler side of the event. We had a great time and a great day while enjoying each other’s company.
Then day 2 rolled around and I drew a Tennessee co-angler who turned out to be the co-angler from hell. For me, it usually doesn’t take long to get a feel for how someone will be simply by his demeanor. Unaware of this co-angler’s crazy reputation, I had a bad feeling from the second he “jumped” into my boat, and I literally mean “jumped” into my boat. This guy was hyped up on some kind of drug or he must have had 15 cups of coffee that morning.
He had 15 rods and 4 tackle boxes along with a huge thermos ( I can only assume was coffee), almost a complete change of clothes, and enough food to feed a small nation. It was as if Boy Scout Tennessee Ted was now in my boat and prepared for any and all situations including an attack on US soil.
You must remember, this was at a time in my life when I had zero patience and a low tolerance for craziness…. which will be revealed here shortly. As I helped the angler get situated with all his gear, he started talking and pacing on the back deck of my boat at such a high rate of speed, I thought my carpet was going to catch on fire. He also spoke a language that I think was a combination of Italian and southern slang. Either way, we had trouble communicating from the start.
I was already frustrated with this guy, and we had not even left the boat dock yet. It was all I could do to prepare myself mentally for eight hours with the crazy man from Tennessee. Finally, it was time to go fishing which meant I would get at least ten minutes of peace while we ran to our first fishing spot. We stopped on the river to fish a certain piling next to a rock jetty.
This one specific piling for some reason held a good bass on it every time I fished it and was a great place to start each day. Sure enough, on my first cast I hooked a 3-pound bass and as I swung the fish into the boat Tennessee Ted decided to make a cast past the front of the boat to the same piling.
Now there are rules in most Pro/Am tournaments that don’t allow for a co-angler to make casts past the pro/boater in the front of the boat. But he decided to ignore this simple rule and proceeded to catch a 4-pound bass off the same piling, which really irritated the hell out of me! I expressed my displeasure with him and reminded him of the rule. He sincerely apologized and I reluctantly forgave him, but also reminded him to please not do that again.
So, now that he had been reminded of the rules, we made stop number two on a cut just off the river. I made one cast into the cut and caught a 2 ½ pound bass! Well low and behold, Tennessee Ted struck again by flipping his spinnerbait into the same cut past the front of the boat and catches a 3-pound bass! Now I’m really ticked off and proceeded to reprimand him with a few extra choice words that you might hear in a locker room. Once again, he gave another full apology for his bad judgment as I continued to pull the trolling motor up and head for my next stop.
Then on our fourth or fifth stop, not sure due to my state of mind, I hooked a four-pound bass on a spinnerbait and as I swung the bass into the boat, I hear a cast go within inches of my ear as his bait hit the water twenty feet in front of the boat! After I dropped my fish into the livewell, I simply reached up, grabbed his fishing line with my hand and bit his line in two! That’s right, I was done and so was the bait at the other end of his line that fluttered to the bottom of Red River like a wounded baitfish.
Tennessee Ted was in shock as I quietly stepped back onto the front deck and began to make a cast as if nothing had ever happened. I truly believe, for the first time in his life, he was speechless. He then asked me why I did that? I told him that after three warnings, I had run out of both patience and forgiveness and needed to make sure he understood what I meant by “do not cast past the front of the boat!” He was then told that if he continued to break the rules, I would not sign his weigh slip at the weigh-in, therefore getting him disqualified.
Sometimes you must take matters into your own hands (no pun intended) in order to make a point. He finally calmed down, which I think was due to the fact his thermos was empty, and he did not have a whole lot to say the rest of the day. This was music to my ears as I continued to fish hard trying to win this event. While I caught my limit for the day, I was unable to overcome the three-pound deficit, falling short by less than a pound.
Ever since this event, I have made it a point to remind all my co-anglers about specific rules they may have forgotten. So far, this has worked in my favor, saving me and my sanity, by making sure they know the rules. It’s also saved my co-anglers a few baits by getting their line bit in two! Till next time, good luck, good fishing and I hope you never have to fish with a Tennessee Ted!
Steve Graf
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