The Classic is Still Special

I had to leave for the Bassmaster Classic before “early” on Tuesday morning, and I had more than a full day of work on Monday, so after fishing Saturday that left a full day for chores, packing, and errands on Sunday. I started off going to the car wash, where they wanted $30 to clean my 12-year-old Suburban. I’d rather save that money toward my next glide bait, so I made my way to the do-it-yourself wash a few miles away. It was shut down, so I went home, got out a bucket, some soap, and a hose, and cleaned off my vehicle in 40-degree temperatures.

Then I got a haircut, made sure my clothes were clean and packed a fresh razor for the week away.

I’m fully aware that no one in Knoxville – save for anyone who may ride to the ramp with me – cares about my ride. I will not be making laps in the arena. Nor does anyone care what I wear, or how I’m groomed. Nevertheless, it’s important to me to be ready for the Classic. To quote faux Fernando Lamas, “You’ve got to look good to feel good,” and taking the Classic seriously makes me feel good. I’m a little more deliberate about my actions, a little more careful with my words, and care just a tad bit more about what I write. This is a chance, more than any other event I attend, to be a part of fishing history – or at least to shape how future generations will consume it.

This feeling is not new to me or new to the sport. In his seminal book “Bass Wars,” Nick Taylor described Rick Clunn practicing for the 1986 Classic in Chattanooga: “Clunn wore his usual long-sleeved shirt, but had put aside his shorts and sandals in favor of navy slacks and a pair of canvas-and-leather shoes. He always dressed up for the Classic.” To some, it might be a throwaway line, but for me – even before I attended my first championship as a member of the media, it stuck. This is a big deal.

Has it been diluted? Maybe – I suppose you could make the argument that by the fact that there have been fifty-plus of them, and that the Forrest Wood Cup and Redcrest have entered the same sphere, it’s no longer sui generis, but it doesn’t feel that way. If anything, to me it feels like Redcrest is still finding its way, ICAST has peaked (at least from a media and consumer-facing standpoint) but the Classic just grows and grows and grows. It may never set records in Dallas or Vegas or Orlando, but it’s still the one thing that everyone in our world cares about – and many people outside of it know what it is.

This will be my 18^th Classic with a media pass. By Sunday evening I may be completely disheveled, but the good intentions were there. As long as they keep making car washing soap and laundry detergent, I’ll keep on going back as long as they’ll have me – and when they kick me to the curb I’ll pay my own way as a fan.