Back Story: Whatever Became of Dave Scroppo?

“Noise,” he said, “saugers like noise. Use a rattling jighead, or a crankbait with rattles. And use the most bizzaro colors you can find.”

Count on Dave Scroppo for a good fishing tip, especially when it involves walleyes or saugers. His advice was delivered long-distance from Michigan, where Dave is currently suffering through a bad case of cabin fever.

You remember Dave, don’t you?

Until the spring of 2006, he had the world by the tail, with a downhill drag. His exceptional fishing skill was matched by his writing ability. You couldn’t pick up a fishing magazine without seeing his byline. Dave could write about the most mundane topics and make them more interesting than they deserved to be. He was a regular contributor to Field & Stream, the Detroit Free Press and ESPNOutdoors.com – any important media outlet that could afford him. When I was the executive editor of Outdoor Life in New York, we tried everything within reason to compel Dave to be our Senior Editor. He wouldn’t leave Traverse City. He would miss the walleye and smallmouth fishing too much, he said. And what he didn’t say, but what we knew, was that he could stay home and write for everybody because he was that good.

In 2006, though, Dave’s life turned upside down. A visit to a neurologist in Chicago revealed the reason why sometimes his body wouldn’t do what his brain told it to do. He had multiple sclerosis, a degenerative disease for which there is no known cure. That’s not something you expect to hear when you’re in your late 30s. At the news, his wife cried and his mom cried. As he comforted them, all stoic Dave could think to say was “It is what it is.”

It is what it is. That’s been Dave’s mantra since. He’s dealt with it. This year marks the fifth anniversary of the diagnosis and though the disease has taken a toll, Dave is doing okay. As self-effacing as ever, as glib-tongued as he was in the old days, he wears his longjohns “all but about two weeks a year” and wears his “thug cap” incessantly because his brain mistakenly tells his body “you’re cold” even in the summer. At least that’s what the neurologist tells him, though the chill feels real enough to Dave.

When the weather warms again, Dave’s friends will take him fishing at least once a week on Lake Leelanau or Long Lake near his home. His fishing buddies think he’s the second coming of Gary Roach, but there are days, Dave says, when they want to dump him overboard because he’s so stubborn about catching walleyes that don’t want to bite.

Once in a while I call or email Dave ([email protected]) to see how he’s doing and tell him of my latest sauger forays on the Ohio River, or below Kentucky Lake dam. Over the phone, it’s the same old Dave, in turns witty and satirical.

Dave is doing a pretty good job staving off the effects of the disease. His medicine, as he exaggerates, “costs about $10,000 a month,” but it’s kept him out of a wheelchair so far. What he hopes, what his family hopes and what his friends hope is that he’ll hold out until the day when somebody discovers a cure for multiple sclerosis.

That would be great. Dave could start making the tournament rounds again and writing. For sure, you’d see his articles in FLW Outdoors magazines. Still, there aren’t any guarantees and Dave knows it. You start out expecting the best from life, and even when things start chipping away at you, you make do with what comes your way, and you make do for as long as you can. That’s life, Dave will tell you.

It is what it is.