I’d be lying if I mentioned that the Thanksgiving intermission gave me time to get caught up on my tackle. While many involved in the fishing world utilize the offseason to organize, rest and recharge, I find myself haggard and worn worse than any other time of year. As many of you know, unfortunately, I’m a duck hunter.
Nothing puts urgency in your blood like having a passion that is only legal for 58 days a year. But we push on.
I mention this addiction because it brings me back to a piece I read a few weeks ago about offseason habits of some of today’s top pros. While many spend time afield as I do, there seems to be two underlying voices on their perspectives of fishing in the offseason.
Some find it necessary to fish all they can. Bryan Thrift was quoted as saying, “At this level, you have to immerse yourself in it. You can’t afford to take the offseason off.”
Others, like Todd Faircloth, haven’t made a cast.
I remember an interview I did with Andy Morgan, easily one of the top competitors in the sport today. He mentioned no desire to fish in the winter. Instead, he purposely keeps himself away from bass fishing, mentioning that such absence creates more enthusiasm and drive when he first climbs aboard his bass boat after an extended period.
We can all relate to that. I mean, nothing creates excitement for fishing like being away from it, right? Possibly Morgan is somehow harnessing that energy level and using it to his advantage; his record certainly backs it up.
All of this boils down to a debate that is further fueled each time we dissect bass competition at the highest level. What are the key factors in success, and how many are tangible talents or skills that can be improved upon? How many are completely mental?
A certain percentage of top anglers approach the sport on an elementary level and strive not to overcomplicate it. Furthermore, many of these mental-driven pros also don’t spend much time learning the past history of the fisheries they visit, instead preferring to “fish in the moment," based on their day-to-day results.
Though viewed by the general public as ludicrous, this intuitive feel to fishing is nothing new, however it continues to gain ground within the competitive angling community. The above-mentioned pros who prefer time away from the sport obviously feel that such absence can work to their advantage. While it sounds crazy to some, the underlying principle is that enthusiasm makes an angler more optimistic. And, somehow, such optimism actually leads to a higher success rate. Simply put, being in a positive state gets more bites.
The grinders, on the other hand, feel skill sets are the answer. Through thousands of hours on the water, these guys become masters at nearly every technique. They know how deep each crankbait runs to the inch, and can skip any lure in their tacklebox under a dock.
By the end of a tournament day, grinder pros have made more productive casts and covered more water than anyone else, and they’ve done so using every technique to its maximum. It’s simply a game of numbers until they run into a winning pile of fish, right? Possibly.
Or does their success also boil down to an underlying mental approach?
Here’s an example: I simply cannot fish in an unorganized boat, and carrying too much tackle drives me crazy. On several occasions, I’ve left gear in the truck that I would have otherwise used, just for the sake of keeping things clutter-free. The bizarre part: My boat could easily hold and transport nearly everything I could ever need, yet my approach must remain very simple to keep my head in the game.
I think much is the same with the sport’s hardest workers. Does a complete understanding of light refraction underwater based on differences in soft-plastic coloration get you more bites when fishing a worm? Possibly.
When an angler who supports such a theory approaches his selection, he does so knowing that thousands of hours of experience and study have led him to the proper color. And he therefore approaches with supreme confidence and optimism.
Conversely, a free-spirited pro might just pick green-pumpkin, as he always does, and cast away. In the event that such a selection doesn’t pan out, it’s simply time to try a new technique or location. A bass is a bass, right? And they all like green pumpkin … so a worm simply wasn’t the answer.
The point I’m trying to make, obviously, is that the mindset behind all fishing is incredibly underestimated by most. We see it time and again when witnessing the feats performed by the sport's best. Something “clicks” and they take it to a higher level.
Are the Jason Christies, Greg Hackneys and Brent Ehrlers better casters than the rest of the pros? Likely not. And while the top tier are all incredibly knowledgeable about nearly every aspect of bass fishing, there’s a driving force that surely seems to be impacting the final standings that simply can’t be explained.
As waterfowl season winds down, perhaps I’ll explore this captivating facet of our sport more. Likely, I’ll dust off a few resources, like Jay McNamara’s "The Psychology of Exceptional Fishing," or Rick Clunn’s "Angling Awareness" manuals, and get back to you with my findings.
The mystery remains as to what it takes to be the best in pro bass fishing. It’s not being taller, faster, stronger or having better hand-eye coordination. It’s an intangible, and all the great ones attempt to tap into it – whether they want to admit it or not.
(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.)
