Runnin

Well it's the night before day 2 of the Everstart Series on Lake Eufaula. I was very fortunate on a tough lake today. Had 10 pounds 9 ounces including a 4 and a half pound bite. That's more than I've had any of the 6 days of practice here. Sitting in 24th of 148. This is the worst I have ever seen it. A traditionally great fishery plagued by low water and postspawn funk.

I have no confidence that I can catch 10 pounds here again. And that would likely just get me a check if I did. I'm tired of fishing for a check. The big boys don't fish for checks. Hero or zero. They fish for the win. And you know them. Because they win. Sure they finish in a hundredth place or so more times than not. But who remembers those finishes. No one except the angler himself.

So it's time to gamble. Make a long run. About 100 miles. One way. To Florida. Lake Seminole. The promise land. At least that's the hope. A pipe dream really. It's full on at 70 mph. Two locks. Looming threat of possible boat trouble. And a ton of other variables. But its time to swing. This is what great stories are made of. Gamblers. Fence hunters. That's where I got to start looking. That's where winners look. To the fences. It's time to swing.

Now I sit alone

Hustle and bustle. Hurry up and wait. Up at 4:45 am to rush to the boat yard, then off to the ramp to sit for an hour while the sun sneaks up over the horizon and burns away the morning bite. National anthem and chills followed by the sound of 250 horses firing off. Cameras flash and film is etched with memories that won't soon fade. The last thing I hear, "Shaye Baker and Jordan Lee your Auburn University Tigers" as we shower down.

Sprint 5 miles in 4 minutes and then the slowest fishing I have ever done in my life. Grinding it out with the best of them. Fishing has never been so much work. Five keeper bites on day 1, three on day 2, five including one on Joe's last cast on day 3. A grind. Then rush back to the ramp with seconds to spare... an hour before weigh in. Hurry up and wait.

Put the truck on cruise control and coast back to the arena, wishing it were that simple with my nerves. Bag our fish. Slip back stage and wait it out in the tanks. We're announced. Stage lights sift through artificial fog as the chills return. An arena packed with screaming fans. Once in a lifetime kind of thing. My family there to cheer us on. They erupt as we pull out the biggest bag of the final day.

The hot seats. The most comfortable seats in the house. For a moment. As soon as the scales tipped in another school's favor they became hard and unwelcoming. Perched back in our boat off to the side I watched as Florida won their second. And I cheered for them. Two friends who love this thing as much as I do.

Now I sit alone. Friends, family, partner all on the road. No hustle. No bustle. No hurry up and wait. Just sit and think. Process what has happened. Third in the nation. Again. Came real close. Twice. Enjoyed every minute of it. Fished every single day that I was eligible to fish with College Fishing these last two years. Never missed a cut. What a blessing.

But now it's over. I'd like to thank all that were involved with two of the best years of my life. I won't name all that I can think of right now for fear I'll miss one. But know that if you are reading this then you are one of those I'd like to thank. Whether it's mom and dad or someone I've never met. Because you took the time. And you're a part of this game we all love.

Thank you