Embrace the Learning Curve

The Sabine River Elite Series event was one of my favorites to watch and cover in a long time, not just because we didn’t know who’d win until the last fish was weighed, but also because it dispelled a lot of rumors and speculation. I’m going to leave the FFS issue alone for purposes of this particular piece, and rather dwell on the fact that any time you get to see Taku Ito on Live on a Sunday, that’s a good thing.

And what was Taku using? Some miniscule JDM cricket or octopus? Hardly. Instead, he was punching and throwing a Chatterbait.

He gave full credit where credit was due to Jordan Lee, who taught him the heavy line techniques on Guntersville during the offseason. Lee may now regret that decision just a little bit, and while he took his 94^th place finish in good spirits, seeing the pupil dominate has to evoke a weird mixture of both pride and regret.

I’ve been following the sport for over 40 years and covering it for more than 20. I’ve watched promising careers fizzle out, and anglers who couldn’t seem to tell their ass from a hole in the ground blossom into world beaters. Anyone can become really good at a technique, or on a single body of water, but the anglers who survive and thrive are the ones who get better at the things which don’t come naturally to them.

“Things which don’t come naturally to them,” doesn’t just mean on-the-water efforts. Sure, if you’re an offshore guy you need to learn to flip, and if you only fish bubba style you’ll fail to advance if you don’t at least become comfortable with a spinning rod – but it’s more than that. They need to learn to take care of business, to become fluent in media, and to avoid burning out. The ones who get better at those things don’t have prolonged down periods in their careers, or if they do they have a better chance of fishing through them.

And whether you’re a pro or just a weekender who wants to get better, don’t forget that information flows in multiple directions. For those of you who aren’t old enough to remember when the Senko first became popular, it was sometimes referred to as “the co-angler’s friend” or the “Front seater’s kryptonite.” It was assumed to be beneath a skilled pro to fling out that Bic pen lookalike and wait for a bass to pick it up and swim away with it. Only after getting their butts kicked too many times by the “do nothing” lure did some of them finally give in – and it became the most fish-producing tool of my lifetime. Part of being a great angler is knowing which info to integrate without ruling anything out preemptively.