It was at that moment, that exact moment, when Bah-rone became a gosh darn…TOURNAMENT ANGLER.
“…jumped in my pickup…”
Let me explain Bowman, Steve Bowman to you, he’s some sort of honcho over at JM Associates, the TV production company owned by my baseball loving friend, Jerry McKinnis, that makes all the Bassmaster stuff you see on the tube.
This is how I explain Bowman to anyone who asks me anything about the tall, maybe 10-12 feet tall, gravely voiced, all gnarled up skin Steve Bowman, to those who ask me about him I always say exactly this,
“Every ounce of success I have had writing in the outdoor world is because of him. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for Steve Bowman.”
I owe him this career. Period.
How that happened, I have no idea. Whenever we talk, him an outdoor dude, me an indoor cat, it is always a who’s on first type of conversation.
I know we have made overhearers dizzy.
He is yin. I’m yang. But the dude has always had my back, but, but…I’m still going to kick his arse out there on the water, yep, just as soon as I get a rod, a reel, some string to put in the reel, some bait things, sunscreen, a fishing license (which is frankly shocking that a state would actually even think of letting me have one of those) and, um, you know…a…boat.
“…gave her the gas…”