The ŒClassicı BassMaster
Posted 5/15/03

By BRIAN DEHN
A BassMaster such as me can easily afford
My pro-boron rods in the boat I seasonally stored
With the other rods graphite super-sensitive fast
action.
You know in my trained hands they will soon have
won!
Having my 14 ball-bearing high performance reels
With casting and spinning rods giving a variety of
feels,
I felt overconfident to the state of ecstatic zeal.
No doubt my grand skill would soon fill my creel,
Though pride has never touched my "righteous" soul.
Some gave me a look, as I spoke only to extol
My faith in my skill- overwhelming any humility left
And my heart swelled as I dreamed of my catches
heft.
This Bass fishing contest will again prove me a
winner-
It only crossed my mind that I was grinner not a
sinner.
So now as we planned our attack of my prize fishing
spot
I thought, for a Bass fisherman, I was pretty hot!
Some might have thought I ate the plastic worms I
used
But this Bass-centered life was always the one to
choose.
My casting and retrieving held a perfection I hadn't
seen before.
I thought this upcoming stringer of fish would even
the score
And place me at the very top where I belonged.
My heart inflated as the accolades of imagination
thronged
Around me and my unreal stringer of personal pride.
I had no mercy as my close competitors openly cried,
I proceeded to mentally relive my winning finish
ways
Spreading a huge stringer of 5 pound bass in full
array
Though now just in my mind, it was sure to come
true.
I thought all could see that my prowess was nothing
new
But before you knew it our boat was in gear
And all the Bass were now swimming around in fear.
Revving up the 225 hp Mariner we crossed the lake
With my reputation of a BassMaster fully at stake.
It took 7.6 seconds to get to my secret hotspot
Where I opened a plastic worm I had just bought.
The once-serene Bass were itchy, I surmised quite
soon
And the hunt was on for the big one in the full of the
moon!
With my astute, well-trained skill I changed to a
crankbait,
I could tell with precision I had sealed their fate.
The first one I hooked had a very healthy sheen
But my partner looked at me with a heart of green.
After adjusting my trolling motor to full tilt
I saw a bedding Bass with a girth that was really
built.
Using my back-up rod I threw a cast to the pads
Thinking, "This is really the life for us no-college
grads!"
Then she struck with a force unknown to my line
I set the hooks while hooting like a man drunk on
wine.
Then my partner stuck in the net to boat my trophy
I thought if he does it right he'll eat tonight for free!
I think that Bass got a thinking about frying in a pan
So she danced on her tail in a display that was grand.
Our focus on the fish, I'd say we lost our senses
The beginning of our escapade of pure folly- having
no defenses
That would prevent the inevitable fall from prides'
tower
The first time at the weigh-in that I would sheepishly
cower.
No biggest fish or heavy stringer laden with Bass
Only embarrassment and humiliation would my
efforts amass.
Our prize fish flew through the air with a last jump
It seemed monstrous and unreal with a girth so
plump.
My partner decided to catch her but instead took a dip
Slipping in for a drink as his feet lost their grip.
That fish jumped so high and my partner fell so fast
I opted for the fish- my biggest ever Largemouth
Bass.
I quickly grabbed for the net while she opened her
mouth
But the lure went one way as my partner headed
south.
I saw the jitterbug lure fly through the spring air
And all I could rightfully do was stop and stare.
Ten minutes later I realized I was alone in the boat
Having no swimming ability and surely not able to
float.
I hooked my soaked colleague with the net- the days
only "hog"-
Trying to explain the reason for my deep mental fog.
I doubted if my fishing partner would ever forgive
But I thought I'd better fish him out if he were to live.
A tribute to that lost fish would never hang on my
wall
And my friend would take weeks to forgive me for
his fall.
That night I mused deeply about what to cherish,
At first thought life seemed to revolve around the
fish.
I rambled... Any fish that can put a man in that
obsessed shape
Perhaps deserves to swim free any way she can
escape.
So a lesson can be learned from that fateful day
That the craftiest of Basses have learned a way
To outsmart us pro-bassers in the heart of the chase,
Proven by my partnerıs wetness and seaweed in his
face.
So if ever there was a fish so cunning and smart
The Bass is one who can uncannily rip out your heart.
You feel the pain as that big Bass swims away
But your burning heart fades as that night you pray
That "Lord won't you bless me with the biggest of
fish"
And also to "land a bucketmouth" as my last record
ed wish!!²
But listening with a heart that had been humbled
deeply,
The Lord spoke to me of His deep insight quite
sweetly-
"Think not of the BassMasters winner's circle as the
reward
Or the coveted fish to hours ratio or ranking of a
scoreboard.
Isn't it enough to see the lake of blue in all its glory
Where competition isn't the end-all of your life's
story?"
Then I thought of all the good I could do with my
knowledge.
I thought maybe I had been on the wrong road, so in
pledge
I determined to share my experience as the occasion
arose,
Teaching patience, character and the hope of a
passion that grows,
The passion of friendship and fun leading others to
surmise
That Faith, Hope and Love are the hallmarks that we
should prize
So as I leave, you may ask, "Can we learn that
fishing?"
There's no place love can't reach you as long as you
keep wishing.
From pride to humility and idols of fish and reward to
contentment
My newfound passions are here so my heart's free of
resentment.
Though I learned Bass fishing is just icing and not the
cake,
I pray we'll all keep it in perspective for heaven's
sake.
Something to think about as we ready for the new
season
Remember to bring the kids fishing- needing no other
reason
Than to share an innocent enjoyment of the inspiring
outdoors.
I pray your joyıs in the simple pleasure and not in the
highest score!

Editorıs note: Dehn is a local poet who enjoys fishing.