Nobody Voluntarily Drives Anybody to LAX
The first time Lake Skinner punched me in the mouth, I was fishing a club tournament as a guest with Big Ed. Funny enough, I’d end up joining that same club years later, which...
The first time Lake Skinner punched me in the mouth, I was fishing a club tournament as a guest with Big Ed. Funny enough, I’d end up joining that same club years later, which...
I’ve started realizing that the more I fish for Spotted Bay Bass, the more they remind me of psychopathic little largemouth living in a saltwater urban housing development. “The Projects,” if you will. They...
There’s a very specific kind of confidence you don’t talk about much in tournament fishing. It’s not the “we figured them out” confidence. It’s the quieter one. The “yep… we’re not winning this” confidence....
The cabin sat above a stretch of shoreline that felt familiar in a way I couldn’t quite explain. That same shoreline ate everything we threw at it back in the day—Texas rigs, drop shots,...