Not the Sport You're Thinking Of
The headline says, "Poche competes in 'ruthless sport,'" but it's not talking about this weekend's epic battle on the gridiron. Don't get me wrong; in these parts, football is a religious pursuit (I think maybe an offshoot of Southern Baptist) and what's not to love about a sport that comes with a layer dip the size of a punch bowl?
There's no ball involved in Poche's competition. No puck. The competitors will not be wrestling each other to the ground or punching each other in the face. Well, not during the competition anyway. There won't be any synchronized acrobatics. No running or jumping and, truth be told, likely no aerobic activity of any kind.
"Keith Poche is preparing to walk across the biggest stage of his life in front of the largest spectator audience of his life."
See, he's going to compete in a master's level championship, and he'll be doing it less than a mile from my house. "That's because Poche has qualified for the 2012 Bassmaster Classic..."
That's "bass," with a short "a" like the fish, not "bass," with a long "a" like the guitar.
Yep. The "ruthless" competition we're talking about is fishing. Which, let's face it, is a lot scarier if you look at it from the perspective of the fish. From above the water, it's generally considered relaxing. And it's not like these guys are going to be roughing it. They won't be in row boats or sailboats or hip waders. They'll be in fifty-thousand dollar, fully tricked-out bass boats with sonar and built in refrigerators, sitting on cushions molded to fit their particular buttocks.
I'm not sure when fishing became a spectator sport. Honestly, on the excitement spectrum it ranks someplace south of golf. I've mentioned before that I spent quite a lot of time in my young days fishing with my dad, and I can testify; watching people fish is not an edge-of-your-seat activity. In fact, I've fallen asleep while I've had a hook in the water.
But these Bass Masters are celebrities. They wear shirts and jackets emblazoned with corporate logos to rival any race car driver. I don't understand race car driving as a spectator sport either. People just drive really fast in a circle and make a lot of noise, but at least with racing there's a chance every now and then that something might explode.
With bass fishing, the spectator events are pretty much limited to watching the anglers get in their boats and head out in search of the best hungry fish hiding spots (a quest taken so seriously that the Red River has been off-limits to competitors since Dec. 11), and then at the end of the day watching the big reveal and the weighing of the day's spoils.
I get that last part. I think it's hard-wired into us to celebrate the food bringers.
The between hours are mostly a glorified expo show and sale. I don't know where you live, but we have a two hundred thousand square foot Bass Pro shop on the riverfront, and that's just one of the stores that will be represented on the big day. There will be shiny, spinning, rubbery, smelly baits in every possible color. There will be boats and baloons and french fries and hush puppies. There will be plenty of commerce and country music to keep folks distracted until the big catch comes in.
Then the cold beer and the tales of the ones that got away.
I hope it doesn't wear those guys out too much.
There's no ball involved in Poche's competition. No puck. The competitors will not be wrestling each other to the ground or punching each other in the face. Well, not during the competition anyway. There won't be any synchronized acrobatics. No running or jumping and, truth be told, likely no aerobic activity of any kind.
"Keith Poche is preparing to walk across the biggest stage of his life in front of the largest spectator audience of his life."
See, he's going to compete in a master's level championship, and he'll be doing it less than a mile from my house. "That's because Poche has qualified for the 2012 Bassmaster Classic..."
That's "bass," with a short "a" like the fish, not "bass," with a long "a" like the guitar.
Yep. The "ruthless" competition we're talking about is fishing. Which, let's face it, is a lot scarier if you look at it from the perspective of the fish. From above the water, it's generally considered relaxing. And it's not like these guys are going to be roughing it. They won't be in row boats or sailboats or hip waders. They'll be in fifty-thousand dollar, fully tricked-out bass boats with sonar and built in refrigerators, sitting on cushions molded to fit their particular buttocks.
I'm not sure when fishing became a spectator sport. Honestly, on the excitement spectrum it ranks someplace south of golf. I've mentioned before that I spent quite a lot of time in my young days fishing with my dad, and I can testify; watching people fish is not an edge-of-your-seat activity. In fact, I've fallen asleep while I've had a hook in the water.
But these Bass Masters are celebrities. They wear shirts and jackets emblazoned with corporate logos to rival any race car driver. I don't understand race car driving as a spectator sport either. People just drive really fast in a circle and make a lot of noise, but at least with racing there's a chance every now and then that something might explode.
With bass fishing, the spectator events are pretty much limited to watching the anglers get in their boats and head out in search of the best hungry fish hiding spots (a quest taken so seriously that the Red River has been off-limits to competitors since Dec. 11), and then at the end of the day watching the big reveal and the weighing of the day's spoils.
I get that last part. I think it's hard-wired into us to celebrate the food bringers.
The between hours are mostly a glorified expo show and sale. I don't know where you live, but we have a two hundred thousand square foot Bass Pro shop on the riverfront, and that's just one of the stores that will be represented on the big day. There will be shiny, spinning, rubbery, smelly baits in every possible color. There will be boats and baloons and french fries and hush puppies. There will be plenty of commerce and country music to keep folks distracted until the big catch comes in.
Then the cold beer and the tales of the ones that got away.
I hope it doesn't wear those guys out too much.