“Good Job Out There”
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....
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,...
The Swimbaiter kept firing a glide — looked like a DRT Klash — into a field of drifting grass at Probation Pond, harvesting weeds more efficiently than fish. It’s a familiar kind of optimism...
It was a random Saturday in April where my tournament partner and I actually had the day off. Normally Saturdays start with alarms going off at ungodly hours and us finishing our sleep in...
On most days, the city pond is just water and grass blending into East LA. But every so often, it hosts an event. You can tell because people start showing up early and standing...
We were crawling back home north on the 5, tail between our legs, dodging the usual San Diego Driving Academy graduates. You know the ones. Dudes trailering boats in the fast lane, brake-checkers, and...
Before most of us ever knew his name, Albert “OG” Medina was already grinding through the infamous City Park Bass Circuit. You know the one. Lincoln, Echo, Legg — the kind of fisheries where...
I rolled into the pond parking lot at 5:30, which was about thirty minutes later than planned. The dreaded pre-fishing Costco run got me, and if you’ve ever tried to get in and out...
My thumb was finally dripping bright red blood, and yet I was smiling ear to ear, having just released my PB Spot. It kicked my ass like if I owed it money, ripping drag...
I realized something this week. I haven’t actually fun fished in a while. Like, just gone out to fish without a tournament hanging over my head like the cloud that follows Eeyore everywhere. In...