Tim Horton will tell you he’s had some trying times on bass fishing’s top circuit in the 10 years since his last victory.
The pro from Muscle Shoals, Ala., came on like gangbusters in 2000, and he remains the only rookie to win a Toyota Bassmaster Angler of the Year title. Horton then won four events over the next seven years before hitting several rough patches.
“I had a really, really great start to my career,” Horton said on stage after winning the A.R.E. Truck Caps Bassmaster Elite on Lake Okeechobee on Sunday. “In about (2009), I couldn’t get it going …
“This one’s special. It’s been a while since I felt what I felt this week.”
It looked as if Horton, 44, would break out in style like his last victory. Horton blew away the field in the 2007 Elite on Lake Champlain, returning to the dock by 10 a.m. and enjoying a pizza there before a 12-pound, 12-ounce win.
At Okeechobee, his 30-4 Day 2 bag put him 8 pounds up. A missed 9-pounder early on Day 3 would have increased his Championship Sunday lead of 8-10 on Ott DeFoe and possibly made it another walk in the park.
However, changing winds muddied Horton’s area on Day 4 and he had to scramble. He managed a limit he thought to be around 10 pounds. On stage, after seeing DeFoe weigh 18-13, Horton spoke as if he would lose. When emcee Dave Mercer announced 11 pounds, 7 ounces and that Horton was now a five-time Bassmaster winner, Horton crumpled to the ground, a quivering pile of emotion.
When he gained some composure, Horton popped up looking for DeFoe, who had slipped back stage. In a rare victory celebration move, Horton exited stage left, ducking behind a wall to run down DeFoe. There Horton and DeFoe embraced – Horton in tears of joy while DeFoe smiled wide for his good friend.
James Overstreet must have done some scrambling himself to capture the terrific shot above. It spoke its thousand words plus some more. The sage JO wrote:
“When you are unable to tell the man who won from the man who didn’t quite get there … there’s something very defining about that. For the both of them.”
It’s rather understandable Horton was kind of an emotional mess. He more than likely knew he would be, especially after such a long drought, because he had written himself notes to remember what he needed to say.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said one of several times. “When I lost that big fish yesterday, usually you can’t make stuff like that up, as far as to be able to come back against these guys.”
Getting choked up again, Horton got an assist from Mercer, who jumped in to sum up what a victory, a rarity for most on the Elites, means.
“The emotion you see in a Bassmaster win, some people say, ‘That guy got really excited about catching the biggest bass,’ but it’s not about that, it’s about the road that it takes to get her,” Mercer said. “Incredibly difficult to accomplish this, Timmy.”
Horton found more composure and spoke of the sacrifices most anglers make being on the road and missing so much home life. One example was when he checked in during an event 17 years ago. He recalled B.A.S.S. writer Tim Tucker telling him he needed to call home. He did and had to listen over the phone to the birth of his daughter, Lauren. Not being there again, he had to wish her a happy 17th from the stage Sunday.
“The sacrifices you make, what you miss at home … We enjoy so much time together … I don’t know what to say … That’s why I made these notes,” Horton sloshed through.
Horton then thanked his sponsors who never wavered during his hard times. After his Champlain win, he had some top 10 finishes but was inconsistent. The 2012 Classic is the only one he’s fished since 2009, but his sixth place on the Red River in 2012 is his highest finish in 11 Classic appearances.
“So many of these companies have stuck with me through a couple years that have been really tough … support my television show … all the guys just mean the world to me,” he said. “I can’t believe this happened. This is unbelievable. I’m so pumped.”
Yeah, and it was about time, Tim.
MOM TWEETS SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP
Andy Montgomery caught a 9-pounder from Okeechobee, the Day 3 big bass, but might not have wanted to say what he did on stage – that it about broke his arm.
Enter momma, who gave him some advice. Montgomery came to the stage Sunday, where he finished 10th, to tell that she Tweeted him a message saying that he was 9-10 at birth, so he’s got no room to complain.
Rookie Tyler Carriere caught the Phoenix Boats Big Bass of the event, a 9-5 on Day 1. Micah Frazier came in with the runner-up, a 9-3. Several pros equaled Montgomery’s 9-0 fish, but you can bet not too many measure up to his 9-10 birth weight.
GRIGSBY SAD TO HAVE TO LET HER GO
Shaw Grigsby, known as one of the best sight fisherman, had a torturous task on Day 1 – he had to let an 8-pounder he brought in the boat swim away because it was hooked outside the mouth.
“You got to have them in the mouth,” Grigsby told Alan McGuckin for a Facebook post. “It’s very, very rare that I make that mistake. The mistake is generally you’re seeing him, so I watch him eat the bait and I know it’s in the mouth and I jack him up.”
On Okeechobee, Grigsby had low visibility of this fish because it was deep down in a hole with hydrilla all around. Grigsby could see her white belly but not much more, but he set the hook when he felt her moving his bait.
“I did not feel the bite. That was my mistake. I felt her,” he said. “It was as big fish. It was a beautiful fish. Hated to unhook her and let her swim around.”
That fish would have culled a 13-ounce fish and given him about 15 pounds instead of the 8-10 he weighed. Combined with his Day 2 weight, Grigsby would have been about a pound or so inside the Top 51 cut of 27-14.
Instead, he finished 74th. And that’s probably why they call it foul-hooking.
DEFOE TWINS NOT AS BIG AS HIS FISH
On Day 1, Ott DeFoe came in with the biggest bag of the event at 31-3. In that bag were twin lunkers weighing 8-6 each. Mercer just had to have some fun with DeFoe, giving him the old, “Quick, how much did your twins weigh?”
DeFoe hemmed and hawed, trying to access the memory banks for the birth weights of Parker and Lizzie, before spouting off, “5-7 and, uh, 5-10.”
Mercer then busted DeFoe, asking how could he rattle off the weights of his fish more easily than his own children? Ott quickly came up with the reasonable answer that would be accepted in any court of law. “It just happened,” he said of the fish.