Philadelphia looks like Philadelphia, a very large city with very large bridges that give me the heebie-jeebies and make me grateful for the shuttle driver whoâs carrying me across them.
Cross over the Delaware River via the Walt Whitman Bridge where Navy ships below serve as a background to comparably miniscule 21-foot long Bassmaster Elite Series boats this week, and youâre in Jersey.
But New Jersey doesnât look like New Jersey.
New Jersey looks like Ohio ⦠or Nebraska ⦠or Iowa.
A fast 37 miles south of Phillyâs megatropolis is New Jerseyâs corn, lots and lots of corn, and Mike Iaconelli is sitting squarely in the middle of it. This is Ikeâs home. No city traffic. No noise. A very peaceful modern country home with a wrap around porch, virtually surrounded by cornfields and serenity.
Itâs Sunday afternoon and heâs in his boat, which is still hooked up to his Tundra after arriving home late the night before from a 3rd place finish at the Bass Pro Shops Bassmaster Northern Open presented by Allstate on Lake Champlain.
Today begins the week Ike could only imagine the past 30 years. A pro tournament, a Bassmaster Elite Series tournament, in his beloved Philly, complete with his childhood heroes like Rick Clunn, and modern day peers like Ish Monroe, John Crews and Fletcher Shryock.
Speaking of Ish, he is Ikeâs close friend and traveling companion on tour. This week, heâs staying at Ikeâs house, and proves pretty dang handy with his cordless impact wrench following the discovery of a flat tire on Ikeâs boat trailer. Another stressful situation quickly calmed and resolved by the brotherhood that persists among the pro angling community.
A summer rain forces a welcomed break from fishing tackle and impact wrenches, and pushes Ike inside to an impromptu, anything but serious, family meeting in his and wife Beckyâs office. Heâs seen his children a total of about 24 hours in the past three weeks. He holds daughter Stelly, age 2, and son Vegas, age 3, in his arms at the same time. Theyâre giggling in unending fashion as Ike licks Vegas on the nose, and Vegas yells, âDo it again, daddy, do it again.â
The laughter and silliness becomes quickly contagious. And so does love as Becky begins to talk of her heartfelt concern for Ikeâs success. âPart of it is my personal competitive spirit, but the biggest part is that it hurts Mike so bad when he doesnât catch âem ⦠and I donât like to see the man I love hurt.â
The rain has stopped. Vegas wants to fish. Fact is, Vegas loves to fish, and itâs apparent his daddy is his hero. Itâs also apparent that Ikeâs biggest priority is his family. Several times throughout the day, he stops whatever heâs doing to love on his kids, talk with his wife, and just love, simply, truly, love those closest to his heart.
Ike and Vegas walk like best buddies with spinning rods and reels in hand, past the cornfields, to a nearby lake thatâs covered in summerâs surface vegetation. âRight there is a drainage ditch, Iâll promise you thereâs one laying in there waiting to eat,â warns Ike as he fires a cast toward the promising spot. Sure enough, thereâs one lying there â and it has teeth. A chain pickerel devours Ikeâs soft plastic lure.
Just before Becky is ready to serve her signature chicken parmesan burgers, Ike serves up an autograph. A fan left a B.A.S.S. hat, tournament jersey, a Sharpie, and 5 bucks to cover postage in a plastic grocery bag on Ikeâs Tundra while parked at a Lake Champlain boat ramp. Attached to the bag with braided fishing line was a note on a piece of cardboard cordially requesting an autograph, with the admiring fanâs mailing address. Ike very willingly signs thousands of autographs a year, and this uniquely packaged request brings forth a hugely appreciative grin.
9:30 p.m. Sunday
Itâs bed time. Ike tells Ish Monroe, John Crews and Fletcher Shryock to be ready to roll out at 4:45 a.m. for the first official practice day of the Bassmaster Elite on his home waters.
Just as promised, itâs go time. Itâs also pitch dark outside as Ike fires up a coffee from the Keurig machine and makes one last study of his maps and tidal charts. âIâll spend most of my time in practice trying to figure out which spots are best on either a high or low tide,â says Ike. âSome guys will camp on backwater lakes off the river no matter what the tide is doing, and others are going to run 80 to 100 miles a day chasing the right spots on the right tides.â
Right on schedule, long before most of you reading this rolled out of bed, four Elite Series pros roll down Iaconelliâs dirt and gravel driveway, cutting their way through cornfields covered in fog, to begin searching for the success on the Delaware. Not terribly unlike George Washington and his army did under the cover of darkness in a quest for Americaâs freedom from Great Britain 238 years ago.