Close to the Classic

Just six weeks until the Bassmaster Classic, the second time the big show will be held in Knoxville, and while there’s lots of fishing to go before the competitors launch their boats, at the same time it feels like it’s going to happen tomorrow.

For the record, Knoxville is one of my favorite venues for a number of reasons: First, the launch site, the Expo and the weigh-in are all close together, and my hotel should be nearby, too, unless BASS exiles me to fishing’s version of Siberia. No offense to the good people of Grove (Oklahoma), Guntersville (Alabama) and Conroe (Texas) but the Classics where the lake is an hour away from the festivities always make me feel disconnected. I’m on the playing field, but once they pull their boats out of the water my firsthand experience is done. Second, it’s the closest of any February/March Classic location to my Virginia home, a mere 7 hour drive, which is an hour closer than Greenville. Not to pick on Oklahoma again, but the ones where I have to fly rather than drive have historically been tough because I have to pack carefully. Blogging from the boat, underdressed, in 16-degree temperatures, pretty much sucks. We hit single digits at Hartwell, but at least I’d stuffed my Suburban to the gills with all sorts of warming gear.

Finally – and I apologize in advance to those of you who live “Roll Tide” or “War Eagle” – but Knoxville is simply a great sports town. Their fans are knowledgeable, passionate and numerous, and that extends to fishing, too.

Of course, this one won’t be much like 2019 for a number of reasons. It’s a week and a half later, which may be huge or it may be a distinction without a difference. More significantly, that was the last Classic before “the split,” the moment that was half tearful goodbye, half “bye, Felicia.” None of the top four from that one are still with BASS. The 5^th place finisher from 2019, Mike Iaconelli, left and came back, but did not qualify to “defend” his title of 20 years ago. Brandon Lester, who came in 6^th, is one of only 10 anglers who will have qualified for both – and to be honest, I’m surprised the number was that high.

Still, regardless of who wears the uniform, there are stories to tell and – again, unless BASS excommunicates me before the start of spring – I intend to be there to tell some of them. I am truly fortunate that BASS lets a part-timer like me helicopter into their crack team to get stuff done. However, just as fishing has changed since Ott won, so too has fishing coverage changed. BASS Live hasn’t necessarily made us bloggers obsolete, but it has changed our importance and our role – and has me searching for new models to explore. I don’t think the written word is dead by any means, and I think the value of a non-camera-holding close-up observer remains high, but only if I find new ways of telling those stories. It’s part of what makes the job fun and part of what makes it terrifying. If you have thoughts on what you’d like to hear or like to know from someone with no agenda and “boots on the ground” (or in the boat, as the case may be), shoot me an email here and let me know. I’ll save some juicy stuff for the Inside Line readers, but during the biggest week in bass fishing, there are always more stories than I have time or room to place.