What the bass might say

With the fishing portion of the Fort Frances Canadian Bass Championship set to start tomorrow, it occurred to me that the tourney coverage in the paper over the past couple of weeks covered most of the bases, from the anglers to the volunteers.
But one thing was still missing: What a bass might say?
Hundreds of anglers are descending on Rainy Lake this week with large, expensive bass boats filled with so much tackle and electronic devices that they resemble a NASA expedition searching for life on Mars.
They spare no expense, and they are merely after a small, greenish-brown fish that doesn’t reach incredible size nor is it tremendously fierce.
Yet there they are, with millions of dollars worth of equipment, all in an effort to catch 50 or so pounds of fish in three days.
What might a bass think of all the hub-bub? I think the bass would be honoured.
Sure, the knee-jerk reaction might be that they are scared out of their scales at the prospect of nearly 300 anglers preparing to stick a crankbait through their upper lip, but let’s keep in perspective who really is in the driver’s seat, so to speak.
The bass, in the end, decides whether to bite or not to bite.
And why? Is it because of scent, texture, presentation? Maybe, but maybe it’s something more.
Think of it from a bass’ perspective.
You live along a rocky point just off Sand Bay. It’s Thursday morning, there’s a light mist on the water, and you can see from below the murky depths the boats lined up ready to speed away.
There must be more than $3 million in boats, equipment, and sponsorships lined up there. It’s enough to bring a tear to your eye. All of this is for you. In honour of you.
Kinda gets ya right . . . here, huh? (sniff)
But there is more to the bass’ story than an emotional tear. A bass is a proud and noble animal (well as much as any animal is anyway). It will not disappoint. The anglers are here to honour of him, so he will honour them in return.
However, it was pointed out to me by long-time FFCBC emcee Lionel Robert that all bass may not take the honour as seriously as others.
Like a teenage kid, he explained that the smaller, younger fish may take the opportunity to tease the anglers. Biting hooks willy-nilly, they would torment the angler ’til he got the better of them or they’ve lost a lot of expensive tackle in the endeavour.
On the other end of the spectrum, Robert reasoned that the larger, older fish would truly be honoured by the goings-on above the waves. He would remain less active, hide in the depths, and carefully choose one angler to honour right back.
But his choice in who to reward wouldn’t be made lightly and wouldn’t necessarily be determined by the net worth of his rig or the amount of sponsorship dollars he’d rounded up.
It would be determined by sheer grit, determination, and desire. The rewards eventually will go to the team of anglers who, in honouring the bass, worked hard and truly got to know what a bass might think, do . . . and say.
(Of course, bass can’t talk).