BASS Fantasy Fishing | 2009 Classic Archive | Photo galleries
SHREVEPORT, La. — Gary Klein sat on the front deck of his boat, his right leg crossed over his left, and leaned back on his hands.His weathered, 51-year-old face showed the wear of 35 years fishing in the sun, his fingers scarred from years of lipping bass and tying line.Behind the bifocals squeezed tight against the top of his nose, were perhaps the calmest eyes on the dock.
It was the final practice day for the 39th Bassmaster Classic. Klein has fished 26 of them. That’s 26 practices, 26 angler meetings, 26 registrations, 26 media days — and roughly no titles, a record for Classic futility.
Yet he keeps qualifying, year after year. He has won eight BASS tournaments, pocketing nearly $1.7 million in purse money along the way. He’s a pro’s pro.
After all that, he may be remembered as the greatest angler without a Classic, a victim of his own success. Nobody busts out Guy Eaker, who started his career around the same time as Klein, because he hasn’t won a Classic in his 10 trips.None of that mattered to Klein on Wednesday. It may be his 27th try, but it might as well be his first. There’s no head start for the guy who’s been there the most without winning.
It’s about this time every year — starting a week or so before the Classic — that he starts getting phone calls from media wanting to know how and why.It’s flattering in a way, I guess, because people care,” Klein said.
He cranked his 250hp motor, looked at his passenger and squinted as if in deep thought, something obviously profound on the tip of his tongue.What was going through his head? Were the fish calling to him? Is this his year and he knows it?“What was your name? Josh?” he asked, slightly ashamed either because he forgot the name or because he didn’t care that he forgot the name.
It wasn’t off-putting. If anything Klein’s too kind and too caring. It didn’t become bothersome until he started telling stories — 25-year-old stories — in incredible detail, and it was apparent that memory was not the issue.
Klein doesn’t waste grey matter on frivolous information. There’s too much history on the water to remember. Too many bass caught and missed, too many sacred spots he’ll need in future tournaments. With one exception, the passenger was always remembered as “media guy.”This practice day — his 27th final Classic practice — was as much about what has happened as what will happen.
Spot No. 1 — 7:30 a.m.
There is no easy way through the hundreds of oxbows that branch off the Red River. If the stumps aren’t sticking a foot-and-a-half out of the water, they’re hiding a foot-and-a-half beneath.
On this early oxbow milk run, there wasn’t a 10-second stretch when Klein wasn’t getting pushed a certain direction, dodging a horizontal log or wiggling his way off a stump. Eventually, he dropped the trolling motor in front of a half-mile stretch of matted grass.Matted grass…
“It looked a lot like what I’m fishing right now,” Klein said, pointing to a stump and a stretch of tightly packed grass. “I’ll never forget it.”
It was Day Three of the 1986 Classic on the Tennessee River. Details like these, he remembers vividly.
This was a real tough Classic. I had been catching them on the lower end with a crankbait, but I only had one keeper when I got to this spot around 12:30.
There was a short stretch of grass, and I told my media guy, ‘Between here and there, I’m going to win the Classic.’
I started flipping my way through there, and the first bite I got was a 3-1/2 pounder, so I put him in the livewell.
About 10 yards past that, I flipped a 5-pounder — that was big fish of the Classic. And when I put that fish in the box, I looked at my media guy and said, ‘One more, and I’m going to win the Classic.’
I had about from here to that log left to fish [20 yards]. And I’m just doing what I’m doing here, going through real easy.
You’ve got to understand that equipment is always evolving. Back then I had a Zebco — I’ve always fished Zebco Quantum — and the reels were a plastic type reel.
I dropped a worm and jiggled, and the worm went down and — ‘dink!’ I set the line and when I did it broke a clutch in my reel, and my reel fluffed on me.
I couldn’t turn the handle so I just reached down, grabbed the line and I pulled. It was a 4-pounder, and I pulled him all the way up onto the grass, and he went like that [waves his hand] and the worm popped out of his mouth.
It was so thick, I had to watch him flop on top of the grass for a while before he went back down. He had his whole body on top. You could take a picture of him.
That fish, I still dream about. That was the one that would have done it.
After two hours and two bites flipping grass in the first spot, Klein picked up the trolling motor and bounced his way back onto the main river. In that Tennessee River Classic, Klein finished in fourth place, 1 pound and 8 ounces behind champion Charlie Reed.
Spot No. 2 — 9:47 a.m.
It wasn’t a bad start to the day, but Klein was hoping for more from his first spot. Still, good starts don’t always lead to good finishes.
“My first Classic was in 1979, and I led it the first day,” he said “I ended up fourth.”
Spot No. 3 — 10:50 a.m.
BASS didn’t have any lock schedules, and there was this huge set of barges about 12 miles south of town. I was running 90 miles south of that, so I had to go through the lock.
I had this one ditch, and I was fishing about 4 miles off the river in this slough. I was catching them flipping.
Sammy Lee was my press partner that day. Basil Bacon, Guy Eaker, we were all going through the locks, and we talked to the lock master and asked what time do we need to be here to get back through. He said, ‘If you guys are here at 12:30, I’ll get you through.’
I felt good about that. These were 45-minute locks. The first day of the Classic, I ran down there and it was pretty good. I get a couple 3’s and a 3-1/2, and I look at Sammy and say, ‘I can win the Classic.’
This is about at 10:30. I had to stop and get gas on the way back out, so I had to decide, do I leave now with three nice fish in the livewell, or do I stay and try to really solidify this thing in one day. I stayed and fished because the lock master said we could get through.
I get to the lock at about 12:15 and the lock’s closing. I see water about halfway up the lock. I knew I was screwed. All nine of us were late. I was 9 minutes late and lost all the fish in my livewell to late penalties.
I was pretty livid.
I never went up and talked to the lock master. Basil was idling back out and said, ‘Hey guys, we’re screwed.’
I should have went up there myself and said, ‘Hey, guys, reverse this lock and I’ll give you and everybody in that lock booth $100 bills.’
But I didn’t. I was mad, so I just sat out there.
To make a long story short, George Cochran won the whole tournament with a little over 15 pounds. I finished in 19h with only two days of fishing, and I didn’t lock again because I was too mad.
Spot No. 4 — 11:15 a.m.
Stop No. 5 — Noon
We didn’t know what boat pressure was before that tournament. We had never had to deal with it.
I was in third or fourth after the first day with 17 or 18 pounds, working a short stretch of bank within sight of the launch ramp.
I take off the second day, get my stuff ready, start fishing and all the sudden tons of waves started hitting the bank. I look back and see a few boats, but I don’t think anything of it. I’ve got visions of winning this thing, so I just run around the corner of the bank and start fishing again, and they follow me.
This time, I turn around and boats are everywhere. My media guy counted 47 boats. We had never seen anything like that.
Spot No. 6 — 2:08 p.m.
Spot No. 7 — 2:55 p.m.
The one Iaconelli beat me in ’03 — I fished 100 percent. Every bite I saw, I got. He beat me fair and square on that.
That was a good Classic, and it just wasn’t meant for me to win. But the final day weigh-in was tough.
I didn’t know what Iaconelli had. All I knew was I had enough to where I thought this was it. The guys in the tunnel were saying it was close.
When I weighed in, I was in the lead and it was only Iaconelli that could beat me. So for that brief window of time, I got to experience what it might be like.
Even when he was walking up to weigh his fish, I didn’t think he had enough to beat me.
I’m real good about not allowing myself to believe until it’s over with, but I was kind of drifting off in that realm of, ‘I’ve got this thing won.’ And it didn’t happen.
Not that it was a letdown, but I had the emotions of victory, and that right there really leaves you wanting to finish it off. I want that back.
Back at the dock — 3:30 p.m.