I’ve always taken the subject of titles very seriously. When I moved into that tin can I called home in 2006, I had one overwhelmingly intense focus in life – to become a professional tournament fisherman.

That label meant more than anything to me, but I knew I didn’t deserve it at that time. It wasn’t mine to claim. I could claim titles as a student, a waiter and a financial leech on my parents who tournament-fished as much as possible on the side.

So, in order to begin my progress toward laying claim to that title, I wrote down on a piece of paper when I thought I could consider myself a professional:

“When you make all of your money from sponsors, winnings and other fishing-related promotional activities, you will be a professional tournament fisherman.”

Now that I've reached my original prerequisite of being a pro, I think I want to reevaluate my definition and take myself down a peg or two.

Money Doesn’t Make Titles

I’ve been very fortunate in the last couple years in that I have been able to pay all of my bills through tournaments and promotional activities. That's a feat that I don't take for granted, especially at the level of tournament competition I'm currently at.

I'm very proud of myself for the work that I've done since making that monumental leap of faith – moving from California to the East Coast to pursue my dreams. I thank my lucky stars each day for the opportunities that have come my way.

I also have been happy with my progress on the water, and have seen a good amount of success at the levels I've competed at thus far.

That being said, when I started to make all my money in the industry, I started calling myself a pro fisherman, but there was always something that felt wrong about that, even though I had met my personal requirements that I had written on that now old and worn, piece of paper.

I think any of you who truly know me would agree that I’ve never claimed to have “made it” by any means, but I felt that according to my old classification, I could consider myself an up-and-coming, low-level pro. But now I’m not even sure that would be fair to the guys who are struggling on the upper echelon trying to pay their bills and feed their families while paying premium entry fees and expenses.

So, what does it mean to be a pro?

Man, I could really come at this from a whole bunch of different angles, and I’m sure we could argue over the definition all day without reaching one that was mutually agreed upon. You look at the guys who truly embody what the majority of the public views as professionals – Kevin VanDam, Mike Iaconelli, Skeet Reese, Gerald Swindle, Randy Howell and so on (there are many more) – you can see many common threads, including clean appearance, strong work ethic, excellent communication skills, supreme respect for the sport – the list goes on. But the one thing that all the undisputed pros have in common is that they've competed, and succeeded, at the top levels of the sport.

Though I feel that it's more important to have the special qualities that the best in the sport possess – the qualities that enhance the definition of what it means to be a professional – I also feel that in order to call myself a pro I need to first climb to the top level of the sport, which is fishing on the FLW Tour or the Bassmaster Elite Series. I don’t feel that being a tour-level competitor is an automatic pass to the title, but I think it is a requirement.

I guess what's bothered me all this time about calling myself a professional is that in a way, I was taking a little bit away from the guys who have invested a tremendous amount of time, money, blood, sweat and tears toward making it to the top level. After all, when I finally attain this important milestone, I don’t want it to be watered down by the disappearing line that separates an amateur from a professional. I’m not calling anyone out, by any means, but I feel that in our sport in particular, the term professional is thrown around too liberally and I feel that to be honest to myself, and the sport I’m passionate about, I need to be included in that, too.

Now, I too have put almost all of my time, lots of my money and an ample amount of blood, sweat and tears into the sport. But in the end I'm still an amateur because I'm still competing in the amateur ranks (the Bassmaster Opens and the FLW Rayovac Series) in order to try to make it to the next level.

Still Climbing

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, which was hard for me to write down on paper, let alone share it with the world, I think it’s time to develop a new set of goals and hold myself to a whole new set of standards. After all, I feel that if you love something as much as we love the sport of professional fishing, you need to give it the ultimate level of respect.

With that in mind, I won't discount my progress and successes thus far. I do believe that I'm an “industry professional." I have some great sponsors who believe in me and I really put a lot of effort into creating value for them. I make a decent amount of money competing, I co-host a successful nationally televised fishing show and I'm honored to have a role as an ambassador for the sport at certain levels.

So, with all my hard work, I felt it was only right to look myself in the mirror and call a spade a spade: Until I finally make it to the tour-level in either FLW or B.A.S.S., I feel it's important to add some weight to the title of professional tournament angler.

With a little more time, money, blood, sweat and tears, maybe next year I can finally claim it. But for now, I proudly hold the title of “aspiring pro.”

(Miles "Sonar" Burghoff is a graduate of the University of Central Florida and an aspiring tour pro. To visit his website, click here. You can also visit him on Facebook and Twitter.)