All Brian Snowden could do was laugh.

Nearing the end of a terrible day of fishing while competing in the 2015 Bassmaster Classic, Snowden had just hooked and lost what was likely the largest bass of the tournament day, and possibly the entire event.

Snowden just laughed. And I couldn’t believe it.

As we discussed in the last installment of my Classic experience, things are different at this level. My job was to document that, ponder the reasons, and present them to you.

Just what makes these guys tick, and what occurs to propel them to the forefront of competitive bass fishing success? What are our chances to do the same? Perhaps Snowden’s reaction will further clue us in.

Day 2

The day dawns chilly, but drastically more tolerable than the initial round of the Classic. Hype and media presence at the launch are even more apparent than the previous day. Drones fly through the air, as a Mercury promotional boat, powered by 700 horsepower, makes us all question reality.

The Japanese media crews help illustrate their culture’s fanaticism with bass fishing. They’re on a different level: bigger cameras, cooler clothes, all business.

Snowden starts his day fishing a rocky channel bank on the main lake following a short boat run. His jerkbait techniques are instantly legendary – something I was really anxious to witness, given his Ozark notoriety. He fishes the bait slower than I’ve seen in a long time, possibly ever. I count a full 10-second pause between each twitch.

Snowden mentions that both this area and method are conducive to catching big fish. He caught three nice bass here in practice, but nothing bites on our visit. I’m finding that practice success in this event does little to attribute to success in the tournament. I wonder if, perhaps, initial practice, some two weeks prior, in weather drastically different than it is now, has actually hurt many competitors. I think it has.

My partner gives me a run-down on different jerkbait types, styles and characteristics. I’m appreciative of the lesson, as it comes from knowledge built on tedious trial and error. I reflect on how drastically different this type of jerkbaiting is from that of the northern smallmouth locales.

Another thing immediately enters my mind regarding the separation of fishermen at this level, and it’s a fact I’ve come to realize more the last few years after being in a boat with some of the country’s best: Pros fish fish, not spots.

What I mean is that these guys seem to approach an area that they believe holds a population of bass, and then determine each day where those bass will be and how to effectively catch them. Conversely, a less-experienced tournament angler might believe that the key to catching more fish is having the GPS coordinates to a specific spot. Not these guys; they know they need to effectively move through an area to find the fish each day.

Snowden exemplifies this as he fishes on, without so much as a sniff from Hartwell’s bass. He flexes a bit; jerking main lake points, dropshotting deep timber, cranking in coves. I’m surprised when he tells me we have yet to visit the place where he caught nearly all of his fish on day 1: upriver around laydowns. In fact, three of his keepers came from a single log. But Snowden wants to wait a bit; later in the day, he guesses, will be the opportune time. Again, I reflect how drastically different this approach is compared to that of most bass fishermen. Many anglers would have run to the hotspot immediately.

Around 10:30 Snowden begins cranking laydowns – the pattern he feels gives him the best chance to catch decent numbers of fish. He fishes his magic log an hour later, and has still yet to have a bite. His approach is to crank the wood with an original Wiggle Wart, a bait that routinely gets hung up, making an irritating day likely worse.

Snowden, a veteran now of six Classics, reflects how lousy it feels to flop at the Big Show. “I hate not catching ‘em at the Classic” he says. “It’s like you’ve wasted a whole year’s worth of opportunity.”

Again, I’m reminded how nice it would be for some of these guys to get a do-over. I wonder how many times anglers were faced with these same circumstances, and how few were able to abort their missions, change mid-stream, and win. I think of Omori’s last-minute heroics years ago, or how VanDam seems to toy with the competition in these positions.

A little after noon, Snowden loses what he feels is a good bass on his crankbait. A few minutes later, he catches a keeper that just measures. It’s a good sign; maybe there’s hope. Snowden continues to try and force the lay-down pattern without luck. As he cranks through a cove, I notice quite a bit of bird activity, as seagulls dive on what appears to be a school of herring in the creek mouth. A few times, I see the silvery reflection of the baitfish on the water’s surface. A couple fish boil.

Snowden fishes up the creek, and a few times makes comments about the birds. On our way out, Snowden watches a fish bust and trolls out toward the activity. After a few casts without luck, he comments the activity might have come from a striper.

As we leave the area, I again ponder on how easy it is for me, not casting for cash, to remain open-minded about alternative fishing possibilities, but how incredibly difficult it is on the other side of the camera. These guys are light years ahead of me in ability, but apparently still human.

Around 2 p.m., Snowden decides to fish a few docks, just to change it up. I’m pumped, as I want to witness an Ozark guy do some skipping. As I imagined, Snowden is quite good at it, and, on his third dock, his rod bows heavily after a hookset. The fish comes near the surface, and Snowden makes a comment about his disbelief of what he’s hooked. It’s a huge bass, likely close to 7 pounds. It appears Snowden’s going to change his luck and come in a hero after all, fighting the fish for a good ten seconds or so. Then, out of nowhere, the bass just comes off.

I can’t believe Snowden’s reaction. He laughs, but you can see, for the remainder of the day, the big one that got away continues to dig at him. How nice it would have been for him to be a star. At weigh-in, he’d pretend to have only one puny fish, then pull off a little hi-jinx like back in the days of Ray Scott, returning to his livewell to retrieve the “forgotten” lunker. The flash bulbs would electrify; the fans would go nuts.

But the big bass just came off and slowly swam away. Maybe next year.

My time at the Classic was epic, as always. This area of the country continues to baffle me in its hospitality and genuine feel. If more Americans spent time in the South, 90 percent of the population of the U.S. would live there.

I’m anxious for more insight, more battles, and learning more about how my heroes tick and what makes them so special. I hoped you enjoyed learning a little with me. If I ever figure it all out, I’ll be sure to let you in on it.

(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.)