An open letter to the Elite anglers & their fans

IF YOU HAVE A STORY OR IDEA…call me…it’s not like it is my first rodeo…I understand the game, and you who play it, together, we can get through this, and if/when everything goes as it should, be back on the road with you in Bull shoals.

“…I guess that I have had it since I heard the music start.

I like to hear the highway sounds…”

Wanderlust.

In my soul, it is movement that I so cherish.

Whether it be walking, falling, or getting up, movement is at my core.  I believe it is how the universe apologizes for me being basically a doorstop for the first three years of my life.

I can’t fully explain to anyone how much confinement bothers me. I have chased those first three years of my life, all my life.

I caught them, those years, when I found the Elites.

Wanderlust.

The Elites chase dreams, pond to pond across America, and who would have dreamed way back when, that I too, would someday chase not dreams, but dreamers.

I can tell you from within my soul, it is not the catch, it is the chase that I love the most.

It is the freedom of movement,

not the ups,

not the downs,

to move is what drives me.

“…and I don't think that I'll ever settle down

and I can't change and it might be a sin...”

To the fans of the Elites, please know this, because of you, I will never bag it.

Never mail it in. 

Even if I’m not physically there, I promise you I will give you my best shot.  I consider you a partner in all of this, without you there would not be me, there would not be any of us out here.

To the College anglers who will be taking to the water of Amistad for the B.A.S.S. College Tournament these next few days…I am very sorry I won’t be on the dock to watch you launch, to be there when you land and tell your stories as I was supposed to do.

But take this from someone not meant to be here in the first place,

embrace the falls,

embrace getting up,

but most of all, honor the journey.

Say thanks to those who got you on your feet,

say thanks to those who keep you on those feet,

and open your arms to help others come along.

It is not the past.

It is not the present.

It is the NEXT, where lies the dream.

It is the chase,

where lies life.

“…hope St. Peter gonna let me in

got my gypsy soul to bury, Amen.”

Threadbare Gypsy Soul

Pat Green

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