Tournament Monkey (Episode 2: Hello, old friend)

[McCarter]

I woke before the alarm today.  I don't think I have ever done that before.  But then, it has been a very long time since I had been in bed at 8 pm.  I felt good.  I haven't felt this good in the a.m. for a long time.  I gave the wife a kiss on the cheek and rubbed her giant belly for luck and quietly snuck out into the family room.  As I was putting on some clothes, I went over my game plan again.  I had this feeling I didn't immediately recognize, then it hit me.  It was confidence!  Not that this was the first time I have ever felt confident before a tournament, but it was the first time I wasn't also feeling some doubt as well.  That feeling stuck with me through breakfast, the whole drive to the launch, and at the registration and meeting. 

It was good to see a large turnout once again at Kent Lake.  It is always one of our biggest of the season.  Spent a little time catching up with old friends, but really tried to keep to myself and keep focused.  I did notice several people talking about 20+ lb bags while pre fishing.  I suspected this.  I mean there are literally bruisers everywhere out there right now.  Still, this didn't worry me.  I knew that most people were fishing the same fish that had been beaten half to death all week long.  And here I am, sitting on 2 goldmines.  The day started to play out in my head again, and like the past 20 times I have imagined it, I was walking away with the money.

Then, I saw him.  He who knows no second place.  He who fears no bedding fish.  He who just pulled off a first place finish the day before in Indiana?  WOW!  Ok, this might not be as easy as I thought.  But still, I feel really, really good.  I am prepared.  I am confident.  I am on good fish. 

After a quick meeting and partner pairing, we were lined up for the ooze off.  I drew an older guy who had never fished the lake before.  That means I pretty much have 8 hours to catch 5 pigs.  He wasn't worried about fishing any particular spots so that played into my favor.  The first 9 boats were called and started to idle towards their destinations, then they called my number and we followed suit.  I didn't see the boats from the other tournament (the Michigan bass busters had a paper tournament that day as well) anywhere, so I had a good shot at being first to my spot.  I had one boat in front of me that was heading back the same direction I was.  I was starting to get a little nervous until he hung a right.  Now I had the spot in my sights.  I was literally shaking with anticipation and excitement.

I shut the big motor down early, and grabbed my bed fishing rod.  I made sure everything was untangled and ready to cast.  Everything looked good so I dropped the trolling motor and started quietly towards the shoreline.  Once I lined up, I made my first cast.  I was expecting a quick strike, but after 45 seconds with no action I reeled in and made another cast, this time slightly over from the first.  My lure settled along the bottom and I gave it a few shakes.  Still nothing.  I worked this little spot for 20 minutes, each cast dead on to where I had caught the 18"er just 2 days ago.  Every cast was slipped in very quietly and slightly behind where the bed was.  After getting nothing here, I aimed for the spot where I had caught the slightly bigger fish.  Same precise cast, same stealthy presentation, and still nothing eating my bait.  I ended up working this 5 foot stretch of shoreline for over an hour, refusing to give up on these two fish that I had caught so easily on Thursday.  Another boat was working down the adjacent shoreline and heading our way.  It was Paul Sacks and his co angler fishing the MBB tournament.  He asked how we were doing and I told him nothing so far.  He used his trolling motor to sneak behind and in front of us on the shoreline.  I was trying to think of what to say without being rude, but before I could Paul, being the nice guy he is, turned and asked if I was going to fish down that stretch.  I told him that was my plan and he kindly trolled back out and away. 

It was pretty cold that morning, and the sun was just barely making its way above the horizon.  I thought this was surely a factor in my fishing being M.I.A.  So I started working down the shoreline, blind casting and working my bait slowly.  I thought I would surely find a couple takers willing to protect their nests.  Cast after cast, I got nothing.  I worked this whole stretch, about 120 yds long, with not so much as a bite.  I still wasn't panicking though.  I figured once the sun came out, the fish would get a little more aggressive.  Its just a matter of time.  My confidence was still high; I just had to be patient.  I worked back down the shoreline, and picked up a small non-keeper bass along the way.  The sun was a little higher now and starting to shine through the trees onto the water, so I swung out and lined back up with my original starting spot, the spot I had worked for over an hour.  Not long after tossing my bait back to the sweet spot, I felt the take, but set and missed.  I didn't poke her, so I felt good that she would bite again.  I let her rest and concentrated on the next one over.  First cast into the nest and she picks me up, but another swing produces nothing but the weight of my bait.  What the heck is going on today?  I am starting to think they are picking me up earlier than I am feeling and by the time I know they are there, they already have my bait cleared from the bed.  So I toss back up there, this time keeping much of the slack out of my line.  Nothing.  I am sure I spooked both fish a little with my hooksets, but there was no poke to either of them, they gotta bite.  Well, needless to say, 3 hours have passed and I haven't got either of them to hit again.  I am starting to question my bed fishing abilities, or lack there of.

After a disappointing start, I decide to let them rest a bit.  I start making my way down the adjacent shoreline that I had seen beaten so badly the days prior.  But I figured I might be able to snag a small one and knock the skunk out of the boat.  Shortly after making the short move, I hook into #1.  A small 14.5" incher that converts to 1 lb 12 oz that smacked my little crawdad bed robber.  I got to thinking, as I passed empty bed after empty bed, that I hadnt seen anyone fishing this stretch any deeper than 3 feet.  It is all sand and gravel with scattered wood out to 5 ft where it meets a thick weedline.  I start blind casting parallel to the weedline in 4 to 5 feet and working my bait slowly across the bottom.  About 5 casts into it, I hit a spot that feels pretty rough with pea sized rock.  I let the bait sit and give it a few shakes and then get a hit and watch my line heading to the right.  As calmly as I could, I set the hook and feel good weight on the other end.  Now its on.  I yell to my co angler to get the net and I work the fish towards me.  All of a sudden, I feel slight pressure on my back and the fish pulls free.  The tournament monkey has arrived.

Ok, no sweat.  Its still early and I can turn this around.  My first spot didn't pan out like I had planned, but I still have those healthy pre spawners waiting for me.  I definitely need a change of pace, so we pack it up and head clear to the other end of the lake.  We passed boat after boat, all parked on shorelines, some within 20 feet of each other.  Everyone is bed fishing.  I wondered how everyone was doing.  If they were finding that the fish weren't taking like they should be.  Maybe the cold pushed them out; maybe they have just seen too much pressure.  Guess I will have to wait until after the tournament to get the official word.  I know this much, something was up with my fish.  And with my execution.

We arrived at my pre spawn spot and I got right to work with my jig.  A few casts with no action has me thinking they pulled off and have moved onto beds.  I kind of start to panic, for a second, wondering what I am going to do if they don't bite.  But then I get a solid thump.  I reel down to take up slack and I feel that pressure on my back again, this time a little heavier.  I swing anyway and miss.  I am now on my knees in the front of Garzas boat, my head hung low with frustration and disappointment.  My co angler offers some words of encouragement as I try to regain my composure.  I try to remember that feeling I had that morning as I headed out to the launch.  But my thoughts quickly stray to the 4 or 5 bites I had already missed.  I grab my rod and fire another cast to the rocks.  My co angler rears back and sets the hook into his first fish.  I net it for him and measure it; it keeps at 1 lb 14 oz.  That gives me a little more hope.  We have been here for less than 5 minutes and I lose one and he grabs one.  I continued probing the rocky stretch with my jig for another 10 minutes or so with no takers.  Then, all at once I get a good solid thump and my line begins to tighten.  I swing back hard, this one aint getting away.  Ok, shes hooked, and shes big.  I cry out for the net and I try to move her my way.   For a second, I realized that there is no pressure there on my back, but before I can finish the thought, it hits me and the fish pulls free.  Tournament monkey must have been off taking a leak.  But he made it back in time to free me of yet another good fish.  My co angler comments on the bend of my rod as I inspect my jig.  " That looked like a good one, too".

At this point, I am all but completely beaten.  We fish this area for another 40 minutes with no more bites on the jig, no bites on a stick, and no bites on a crank.  Then I remember about the big one I stuck on Saturday with Kev.  Shes right around the corner.  If I catch her, that would give me the boost in confidence I so desperately need right now.  Time to move, time to improve.  We headed back into the cove, and again, shut the motor down early, inspect my line, make sure my stick is hooked properly, and line the boat up perfectly.  I take my time before casting making sure I can hit my mark first time with no hassle, take a deep breath and pitch my stick on top of the rocks in front of the bed.  Perfect!  Please be home, please be home, please be home as I pull my bait quietly into the water.  I watch the tightness in my line go slack as my bait hits the bottom, then a jump and the tightness is back.  This time, I am prepared.  I have set the hook with no problems so many times in my life; I know how to do this.  A quick snap of the wrist combined with a steady pulling motion back to the chest and she is hooked.  But the monkey had other plans.  This was a flawless hookset so he had some work to do.  But the monkey is powerful and wise and he sank his teeth deep into my spine while tugging on my ears and the fish, once again, pulled free.  But not before peaking her head out of the water to reveal her size.  It was the biggest heartbreak of my life to date.

4 hours left.  What the hell am I going to do?  I cant do anything right.  It would be impossible to recover at this point.  You might be able to turn it around after losing one big fish.  Some people might be able to reverse their luck after losing 2 big fish.  But who has the ability to pull it all together after losing 3 giants in 4 hours, not to mention the other bites along the way?  I am in full-blown panic mode now.  Every area I would even think about fishing right now has boats on them.  Where will I go?  And what will I do when I get there?  My visions of winning were long forgotten.  My new goal is to successfully hook into a fish, any fish, and keep it on long enough for my partner to net. 

(to be continued...)

McCarter himself

[djkimmel]

I don't know whether to laugh

or cry...

[stackenem]

Keep it going Brian this is great.

[Ryan]

This is really intense, I am literally on the edge of my seat!

Great (or really sad) story and great writing.

[1javelin]

Wow.  Let's hear the rest.

[Durand Dan]

Now I understand why people watch soaps!!

[Eric]

95% of it is all in your head (including the monkey).

[Cheetam]

95% of it is all in your head (including the monkey).

Yup...amen to that brutha...

Here's what I think.  You can catch fish.  I've seen it (not as many as me, but you catch em).  But, you put so much pressure on yourself thinking you have something to prove out there, that it throws off your mojo...you get tense, your hooksets become less fluid and more mechanical, you set the hook a split second too quick worrying that the fish will spit the hook before you can stick it...It all adds up to missed fish and, ultimately, this self-fulfilling prophetic Tournament Monkey on your back...Go out, have fun, relax and watch what happens...

[djkimmel]

Actually... I thought I saw the monkey being washed away in September 2003 by that 2nd freighter wave that fateful day in the Detroit River??? Can there be more than one monkey???

[McCarter]

that was Tournament Monkey Version 1.0.  He took a little time off to upgrade, now he is back and more powerful than ever.  Seems like i can shake him loose at some point in the season every year, but he always come back with more tricks up his monkey sleeves.

McCarter himself

[Eric]

At least it is only a tournament monkey, not Grassmonkey.