Classic frenzy puts families on emotional roller coaster

Cameras occasionally zoom in on a Classic angler’s spouse or significant other and we get the expected smile-fest, maybe the “We’re No. 1” sign, definitely a spirited cheer.

But what’s it really like for spouses and significant others watching their loved ones compete in the biggest event of their year, if not their life? No doubt, this grand event fosters emotions aplenty, so we’ve assembled these insights from a handful of those who’ve seen the Classic inside and out.

The Buzz Saw

Classic week puts anglers through a frenzy of activity far exceeding the regular-season regimen. Becky Iaconelli, whose husband makes his 18th Classic appearance, encourages spouses and significant others to enjoy the festivities, but respect the requisite team effort.

“It’s about helping Mike accomplish everything he needs to get done, while managing our booth for the Classic Expo and managing small children,” Iaconelli said. “It’s wearing a lot of different hats, getting stuff done and being part of that process.”

Becky and Mike Iaconelli outside their New Jersey home.

Sherry VanDam, who joins her four-time champion husband for his 26th Classic, agrees and notes the need for balance. She oversees the schedule of sponsor commitments, media work and fan interaction, while ensuring Kevin has sufficient downtime to rest with family.

Lesley Martens jokes that her husband eats more than anyone she knows, but Classic week leaves little time for Aaron’s meticulous meal prep. She’ll take over some of that effort and make sure he starts each morning with a healthy breakfast and bring him dinner at the service yard when evenings run long.

LeAnn Swindle said she’s trying to stay five steps ahead of expected need, while saving time for the truly meaningful stuff. Each day, when she prepares the G-Man’s traditional PBJs, she’ll adorn the sandwich bag with a motivational message relevant to the day.

“Evidently, there were a couple this past season that really hit home with him, so the pressure’s on now,” Swindle said. “I want to have a stockpile so I can pick one based on how the previous day went and what inspiration he needs.”

Competition Days

Crowded morning launches leave little time for more than a wave and a blown kiss. Most say their farewells at the hotel, but VanDam said she tries to grab a moment for a group hug with Kevin and their sons Jackson and Nicolas.

Beyond that, there’s one more tradition: “I won’t leave until I know he has taken off safely.”

Team KVD ready for another Classic weigh-in.

Between that moment and afternoon check-in, time taunts the idle mind. Iaconelli and VanDam stay busy at the Classic Expo, while others visit with friends and family. As far as monitoring the day’s results, all do their best to balance interest with healthy heart rates.

“It used to be really hard (wondering how Aaron was doing), but when we’re able to watch online, it got even harder,” Martens said. “But I’ve learned to not get involved in that at all. I enjoy my time with my friends that I only get to see once a year and do stuff with the kids, so I’m not focused on how he’s doing.

“Don’t get me wrong, I pray for him during the middle of the day, but I don’t get wrapped up in (worrying) because that doesn’t do me any good and it doesn’t do him any good.”

Swindle sets a smartphone alert for Gerald-related updates, but she, too, resists the temptation to wrap her day around the leaderboard.

“I’ve always said, ‘BASStrakk is the devil!’” she jokes. “You love it when they’re doing well, or you hate it when there’s a big goose egg.”

A Face In The Crowd

Their music hits and your heart swells with pride as the one you’re pulling for makes a big lap around the arena and finally spots you in the crowd. You strain for fleeting eye contact, a smile, a wave, maybe a whispered “I love you”.

Martens and kiddos, Jordan and Spencer will sport Aaron’s jersey and display the same homemade “Go Daddy” and “We Love Dad” signs they’ve held the past four years.

Many, like the VanDams will wave their Big Heads. Iaconelli said her husband usually knows their section, but their group is hard to miss — and not only for a cluster of Ike signs.

“We’re from Jersey, so we’re pretty loud,” she laughs.

Simple expressions of sincere emotion — that’s Classic style.

“It’s so cheesy and so corny for the number of times that I have done the Classic, but I still get chills and I get teary every time for Mike,” Iaconelli said. “There’s absolute pride for your spouse, and to have the crowd clapping and cheering, there’s something incredibly emotional when all that happens.”

LeAnn and Gerald Swindle.

Swindle wells up during each morning’s national anthem and when her favorite angler enters the arena — it’s tissue time again.

“When he comes through, it will put a lump in my throat and goosebumps on my arms to see him,” she said. “We’re extremely blessed to be there and enjoy that.”

In The Spotlight

And how ‘bout seeing your guy step onstage and hand that bag to Trip Weldon?

“It is still a very big moment, even though (Kevin) has been to 25 Classics,” VanDam said. “I’m still just as proud of him every time that curtain opens and he comes into the arena.”

Kenzie Hartman, who met her beau and 2015 Classic winner Casey Ashley during the 2013 Classic in her home state of Oklahoma, said the weigh-ins are always a tense time, as the 2015 champ holds his cards low.

During the 2016 BASSfest Elite event on Texoma, Kenzie was on the water watching Casey Ashley control a couple of the days. She’s in the background shooting pictures.

“It’s the biggest tournament of the year and you want to jump up and scream,” she said. “Casey’s thing is he won’t say (what he has); he’s kind of superstitious and he doesn’t want to jinx himself one way or the other.

“It’s a surprise to me when he’s on that stage. I try to read his smile. Is that smile genuine? Is he happy with the weight he has or is he smiling because he has to?”

Iaconelli adds: “That moment is me crossing my fingers and holding my breath that he has about 3 pounds more than he thinks he has. Sometimes, he really big-eyes them, but sometimes, he goes really low.”

Highs And Lows

The stakes are high; the competition huge. Climbing the mountain is nothing short of overwhelming. Iaconelli, who watched a young fella from Jersey win the 2003 Classic describes a veritable maelstrom of emotions.

“I think it’s probably a mixture of tears, wanting to pass out, wanting to throw up,” she said. “You’re so overcome with all those emotions, you don’t even know how to react. You can’t speak; you’re just trying to breathe and take it all in.

“There’s an element of shock because to win any tournament is not easy. So when it does happen, there’s such excitement that I don’t know that it ever truly sinks in.”

Same could be said for those near misses. No one placing below first is immune to disappointment, but a second-place finish — that stings. Martens has seen it four times.

Lesley (L) and the rest of Team Martens provides Aaron with steadfast support

“The first time, I was just really happy he’d come that close; same thing with the second one,” Martens recalls. “The third one was heartbreaking. That was the one when I just cried. He covers his mouth when KVD won at Pittsburgh and I hate it when they show that shot; it makes me sad every time.

“The fourth time he took second, I was angry. You get to a point when you’re like ‘That’s enough already.’”

Hope And Perspective

VanDam watched her husband raise the trophy in 2001, 2005, 2010 and 2011. That moment, she says, never loses its luster because they never take it for granted.

And considering KVD has fished 25 Classics, that’s 21 times he fell short.

“Every single one of those wins has meant the world to us,” VanDam said. “The longer you’re in this business, you realize how hard it is to accomplish one of those (victories). I was just as excited for his fourth one as I was for his first one.”

Her advice to Classic newbies: “There are definitely ups and downs. Every one of the competitors go there and give it their all and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.

“As proud as I was of him in the years he won, I was just as proud in the years he didn’t have the greatest of showings.”

Martens said she views each of her husband’s Classic appearances as the culmination of the tremendous effort necessary to reach the big stage.

“I believe Aaron’s going to win it one day, but that’s not in our hands — it’s in God’s hands,” she said. “It took me a long time to grow to that point, but I have faith that God’s going to let Aaron win the Classic one day.”

A Role To Console

Safe to say, all carry visions of victory; but Iaconelli said it’s important to prevent the emotional blindside.

“I think you hope for the best, but prepare yourself for the worst,” Iaconelli said. “Even with full preparation and a great practice, something may just not click. If, God forbid, it’s not a great tournament, all you can do is be there for them.

“Hold their hand, let them vent and let them be disappointed and devastated. You’re that partner to get through it with them.”

Case in point: The 2014 Classic on Guntersville should’ve been tailor made for the funniest man in fishing, but instead, Alabama’s biggest lake served up a heaping helping of humble pie with just three fish over two days. To his credit, the G-Man handled the obvious disappointment with pure class and professionalism.

But it still hurt, and Miss Lulu had his back with the carefully crafted blend of compassion and gut-check she carries to each Classic.

“On tough days, I am never disappointed in him, no matter how it goes, because I know he’s tried his very, very best, but I’m disappointed for him because I know he’s tried his very, very best,” she said. “When we were first married, I used to be like ‘You might be in the 90s but you did good.’

“I don’t do that so much any more. If he’s in the 90s I’ll say, ‘Yeah baby, you sucked today. But tomorrow, you’ll do better.'”

Better to keep it real than to console. She calls it the Etch A Sketch rule.

“I’m his business partner and his teammate; he doesn’t need me to try and make him feel better,” Swindle said. “We have a rule: You have 24 hours to grumble, gripe and feel bad, but once that time’s up, you don’t look back.

“You get your Etch A Sketch out and you shake it off. It’s a new day and we don’t talk about it anymore. However he does, I’m proud of him.”

No doubt, that’s the sentiment upon which all Classic competitors can depend.