Is Rick Clunn done?

AVA, Mo. — Since his career began in 1974, Rick Clunn has caught almost six tons of bass in B.A.S.S. tournaments (11,600 pounds, 9 ounces, to be exact). He has qualified for 32 Bassmaster Classics and won the Classic four times. He has earned a place on the Mount Rushmore of bass tournament fishing.

But Clunn will be 70 years old on July 24, 2016, and he’s coming off his worst season as a pro. Clunn made only one Top 50 cut on the Elite Series in 2015. The only Elite Series angler older than Clunn – Dave Smith, who turns 70 in January – made three Top 50 cuts. And Smith won’t be competing on the Elite Series next year.

So the question is obvious: Though he’ll keep trying, is Rick Clunn essentially done on the Bassmaster Elite Series? Will there be no more highlights in his legendary career?

Making a change

Not according to Clunn. But he acknowledges there must be some changes made in his game. Not simply little tweaks here and there, but significant changes. And the biggest will come as shocking news to some: Rick Clunn is trying to teach himself to get help locating fish from other anglers before a tournament, as allowed within B.A.S.S. rules. (See Rule C.3)

“Most anglers try to get help,” Clunn said. “That’s not a new phenomenon. It’s been that way since I started. It has been that way forever, even though the rules have changed to try and prevent it.

“I resented all these guys getting help. Looking back, that worked in my favor because the help then was pretty lousy. The precision of it was not very good. You were guessing when you got on the water.

“Back then, there weren’t but two or three guys on, say, Bull Shoals or Table Rock or Toledo Bend that really understood tournament fishing and could help you. Now days, it’s really changed. You can go to a lake anywhere, and it’s like you’ve got drug suppliers everywhere, giving you quality dope. With GPS, they’re giving you precision.”

Don’t confuse Clunn’s drug reference with any hint of illegality. He doesn’t like the situation, but he knows it’s legal and, most importantly, he knows that’s how the game is played today.

“It hurts my heart that these young anglers on the Elite Series are doing that,” Clunn said. “But I also understand. They’re desperate. So many of them are credit-carded to the max. They’re just trying to survive. They’re forced into it. And these guys aren’t cheating. They are living within the rules.”

Clunn is so acutely aware of the situation he tried to play that game at times last season. He failed.

“I got the help, and I refused to use it,” Clunn said. “I was so embarrassed to do it, even when I was by myself in practice and nobody was watching and nobody would know. I embarrassed myself. It’s weird. Maybe I can’t make it right in my mind.”

The original fish finder

Early in his career, particularly when Ray Scott was flying the Bassmaster Classic qualifiers to a previously unannounced tournament location, Clunn’s ability to find fish set him apart from most. Clunn vividly remembers being with his fellow competitors the first time when Scott announced the “secret site” of the Classic.

“I saw the look on everybody’s face,” he said. “I thought, ‘That’s strange.’ All of the sudden these anglers I admired, their confidence went away. It finally dawned on me: They wanted to fish the Classic the same way they had all year – getting all the help they could get.”

Clunn’s ability to locate and catch bass continues to show up in tournament standings of what he labels “catastrophic events, where for some reason the lake has been turned upside down and all the precision information is worthless until the lake stabilizes.”

In 2014 when heavy rainfall suddenly changed Arkansas’ Lake Dardanelle into a muddy, unsettled mess, Clunn finished fourth in the Elite Series event there. In 2013, when the same weather occurred at Georgia’s West Point Lake, Clunn finished ninth. And earlier that year, when high winds led finally to a one-day postponement before the final day at Texas’ Falcon Lake, Clunn finished second.

“In those events, I fall back on my strength, which is figuring out how to catch fish,” Clunn said. “And 75 percent of the guys, who can’t do that, are lost.”

When Clunn competed in a Toyota Texas Bass Championship a few years ago on Lake Conroe, that was when he truly got his eyes opened as to how much information was being shared in pro bass fishing circles.

“I went to my favorite creek my first day of practice,” Clunn said. “I guided on that lake for 15 years. I just started watching the boats that came in that creek. I know each piece of structure in it, and I know the key spots. It took me months to find those spots when I guided.

“The fish were offshore. I watched boat after boat fish nothing but the sweet spots. I’m talking about a 1-mile piece of structure. They don’t go left or right. They don’t go down it, like they’re trying to learn this piece of structure. Every cast was on the sweet spot.

“Then they’d crank up, run a quarter-mile to the next sweet spot. Every boat that fished that piece of structure did that. Some of these guys I know hadn’t fished that lake before.”

Competitive disadvantage

Clunn cites the competitive disadvantage of not seeking outside help in a typical tournament setting. He uses the example of boat docks here, but you can substitute any typical bass-attracting structure you please – ledges, brushpiles, laydowns, bridge pilings, whatever.

“If there are 30 boat docks in a cove,” Clunn said, “the information is so precise now that you might be told, for example, fish only these three particular docks, don’t even mess with the others.

“I can find those three good docks, but I’m going to have to fish all 30 of them to do it. These other guys aren’t wasting 90 percent of their practice time finding the good ones. They’ll have information on 60 good docks before the tournament starts. Their time is spent trying to fine-tune the lure presentation they’re going to use on these docks – perfecting the pattern.

“So if I’ve got 10 good boat docks when a tournament starts, I’m probably going to be sharing five of them with those guys. They might have another 50 that I don’t know about, and I’ve got five they don’t know about. I can’t compete with five docks against 50. That’s just an example.”

It bears repeating: Clunn isn’t complaining. And he’s absolutely not accusing anyone of cheating. He’s simply acknowledging the reality of life in the fast lane that is professional bass tournament fishing today. The game has changed. Clunn recognizes that in order to be successful again, he must change with it.

When Clunn decided to leave the corporate world of computer technology at Exxon in 1974, he thought he was embarking on a great journey for the rest of his life. That thought hasn’t changed. He’s now at just another fork in the road.

“I couldn’t do it if I didn’t love it,” Clunn said. “I don’t love a lot of the off-the-water stuff. But once I’m on the water, it’s as magical as it has ever been.”