When Ray Scott started the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society in 1968, he announced a plan to “lift bass fishing up to public par with golf, bowling and pocket billiards. It’s high time the public found out we exist.”
In 2006 with the inception of the Bassmaster Elite Series, Scott’s vision got a branding lift with the inclusion of boat wraps, or vinyl coverings that protected the pros’ boats, while also serving as massive billboards that rolled down the highways and floated onto your television screen. Just as your favorite race driver sped around the track in a logo-festooned wheeled rocket, so too would the pros now be able to expand their marketing footprint.
Wraps had been around for a while before they appeared in full scale on the FLW tour and the Elite Series. Those primitive iterations featured simple lettering advertising the likes of Beer Nuts. Later in the 1990s, trails had teams of similarly wrapped boats and trucks advertising tour sponsors – but typically only tour sponsors, not their own smaller deals or competing entities. Some enterprising anglers got their own, but they were still rare. With the dawn of the Elite Series, it became part of the uniform. Not only were competitors required to wrap their boats, but they had to meet certain criteria – with logos placed in certain spots, to include B.A.S.S. signage, and specifically excluding competing tournament trails.
Savvy anglers realized that another avenue for marketing their sponsors served as the ultimate means of building their own personal brand. Oftentimes, the key lessons were learned inadvertently, but the lightbulb moments were very bright.
Standing out
With coordination between their jerseys, their boat wraps and often matching truck wraps, anglers could create a persona that immediately stood out. It didn’t hurt that the internet world was exploding. Anglers who’d once had one opportunity a month to perhaps get a picture in Bassmaster Magazine, or possibly on The Bassmasters television show, seemed to have exponentially more chances to be seen.
Arkansas pro Kevin Short had a wrap before the Elites started, and while it wasn’t gaudy by most standards, it wasn’t immediately associated with him by fishing fans. Then a problem became opportunity.
“We went to Amistad for the first Elite Series event, and my wrap got absolutely shredded in the bushes,” he recalled. “I knew I needed to get it repaired or replaced, and I wanted to go all-in. I hadn’t known how big the Elite Series was going to be, but after that first event it was obvious it was going to be huge.”
In a sea of mostly red, blue and black boats, plus one in bright yellow, Short looked to make his mark. He’d read a book by Seth Godin called Purple Cow: Transform Your Business by Being Remarkable, and he took the message to heart.
“He wrote that you have a very small window to capture people’s attention – so you want to get the biggest bang for your buck.”
Short went with a mostly pink wrap, a bold choice in the occasionally hyper-macho fishing world. “Pantone 219 to be exact,” he said.
He ended up on the front page of the Oklahoman newspaper, and one in upstate New York. “Not the front page of the sports section,” he emphasized. “Page 1A. I couldn’t take that thing anywhere without getting noticed and asked questions at restaurants, gas stations. I had a police officer pull us over in Alabama onto the side of Interstate 65. He just wanted to see who it was. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
Short still regards the move to pink as the best off-the-water decision of his career.
“It was absolutely the right time because 2004 through 2007 was the absolute best time to be a pro angler,” he said. “People were throwing money at Elite Series anglers like priests throw holy water, as long as you had a halfway decent deck to sell and could string together enough words to form a complete sentence. No doubt I maxed out my money. I wasn’t rolling in it because I wasn’t catching them like some guys, but I can promise you the pink boat brought money in.”
The social factor
In addition to being a means of generating “impressions” and thereby feeding pros’ families, wraps also became a social lubricant, a means of meeting people and leaving a lasting mark on their lives. As Short noted, people approached him anytime he stopped.
By the time the tour was a few years old, pros figured out how to turn the platform into a springboard. Kentucky veteran Mark Menendez was one of the anglers who doubted the wrap idea at first. “I didn’t understand the value,” he said. “I’d never been a NASCAR fan. I didn’t want to look like a NASCAR driver. I certainly didn’t want the expense, but it didn’t take long to understand that it was a good investment.”
By the time the 2008 season rolled around, Menendez realized that he could best serve his sponsors by interacting with the fans, their potential customers. He ordered a simple white wrap for his boat with the logos of his two biggest sponsors – Skeeter and Strike King – in black letters. He recalled that at first it looked like the generic food packaging of past decades, but there was a method to his madness: He encouraged the fans to come, take a Sharpie, and autograph any blank space they could find.
It not only encouraged but demanded fan interaction with the personable Menendez, allowing him to build his fan base.
Similarly, 2014 Classic champ and returning Elite Series angler Randy Howell has figured out a way to explain his values through his wrap: This will be the 15th year that he’s represented the King’s Home, a shelter for abused youth, women and children. At the end of each season, his tournament boat is given away to a winning donor.
The giveaway supports a worthy cause, reflects Howell’s persona and also serves as a branding mechanism. He’s consistently wrapped the boat in a Prym1 Shoreline Blue Camo. It’s not as bright as Skeet Reese’s yellow or Short’s pink, but it’s distinguishable nonetheless.
Indeed, Howell has been a proponent of having the biggest billboard possible since the tour’s inception. For two early years, he and his family traveled in an RV towing a double stacked enclosed trailer for his boat and tow vehicle, all wrapped in the Purolator colors and logo. Former Elite Jason Quinn had a similar set up for Evan Williams. But for the fact that they were costly and somewhat difficult to operate, and finding a spot to camp was sometimes tough, they were the ultimate rolling billboard.
Lessons learned
There may still be more ways to monetize a wrap and capitalize on its real estate. Anglers have their own YouTube channels, and they certainly get more time (assuming they’re producing) on Bassmaster LIVE than the earliest days of ESPN coverage could provide.
The first, Menendez stresses, is not to overtax the space. “Some of those early wraps were just a puke of color,” he said. “You couldn’t tell what they were. The best wraps are not busy. They have good spacing and big letters. As anglers mature, you see after two, three or four years that their wraps get simpler. Lessons are being learned.”
Short agreed, “It’s still true today that the most impactful wraps are the simplest. If the background all runs together, it’s pretty much worthless.”
There’s also a matter of logo placement. While the side shot is often the biggest expanse, and provides space for a monster logo, it’s typically only seen when going down the road, or on a side wide angle shot from another boat.
Menendez says even though the basics of what make a good wrap might not have changed, evolving media impacts placement and value of different signage.
“Decals on the carpet are great when you get camera time,” he said. “The livewell is probably the most underrated spot because every time you catch one you head to the livewell. And the profile is still important for when you get that peripheral shot of the front. It has to be camera-ready for digital and print.”
For Howell, the biggest lesson he’s taken away is: “Leave no space open.” Every unseen or unposted logo is an opportunity missed.
