Just Like in Amistad, the MLF Bass Pro Tour Has Come Together

Okay, I’ll be the first to admit it: Back in September, when I heard Major League Fishing had vowed to start a new tour in January of 2019, complete with live coverage, I thought such a feat sounded pretty ambitious for such a short time frame.

Tournament trails just don’t grow on trees – especially a national tour suitable for the top bass pros in the world. Starting one from scratch is a monumental task, which requires venues, paybacks, rules, personnel, permits, media – and in the Bass Pro Tour’s case – training dozens of MLF officials. And that does not even begin to address the mass of technology needed for the live component.

At the time of their announcement, MLF gave themselves only about five months to put this promise and premise into motion. For a project of this magnitude, five months might as well be 15 minutes.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have some degree of natural apprehension about the launch of such an enormous venture over these last few weeks. Indeed, there have been some sleepless nights while my brain viciously circled through the “what ifs” over and over again. Each time that anxiety got out of hand, I would remind myself about Lake Amistad, where the very first Major League Fishing event took place about 7 years ago.

Flashbacks to Lake Amistad

Sometime during the fall of 2011 I received a call from Randy White, the current Vice President of Broadcast Production for MLF. He called to see if I might be interested in flying to Texas to help with a new bass fishing show he had in the works for The Outdoor Channel. When I asked about the details of this new project, he said the show would be called, “Major League Fishing.”

The name alone immediately caught me off guard.

Major…League…Fishing?

White went on to explain a new competitive fishing concept where pros would fish in sections of Lake Amistad that would be designated as “official zones.” The anglers would not be allowed to practice or gather any information on Amistad before competing. Only 24 pros would be invited and a maximum of only eight anglers would fish per day.

In terms of traditional tournament fishing, it sounded different, but in a good way. Then came the curveballs…

There would also be “MLF officials,” dressed in striped referee- looking outfits that would act as field judges in each boat. These officials would not only be responsible for weighing fish in the boat, they also had the authority to call “penalties” on pros for such things as “fish landing violations” and “fish release violations.”

Wait. Penalties? In fishing?

There would also be “period breaks” where all fishing would cease for 30 minutes and pros would have to return to a “rendezvous point,” to, well, take a break from…fishing.

A break in fishing? To rendezvous? During a fishing tournament?

I was told there would be no weigh-ins, either. Instead, each boat official would have an iPad with a proprietary app called “Scoretracker” that would keep a running score of every pro’s weight for the day. MLF officials would be required to read aloud said Scoretracker updates so anglers would know exactly where they stood in the competition at any given time. Each boat would also include a cameraman that would capture all the action – and reaction – as it happened.

And did I mention every fish counts? No five-bass limits in this contest. Since fish were released immediately and not possessed by anglers, MLF could deem what constituted a “scorable bass” (it was 12 inches in length at Amistad) and pros could record as many “scorable bass” as they could catch.

When I asked exactly which pros had signed up for this newfangled fishing league, I was told some of the heavy hitters at BASS had been invited and that already names such as Kevin VanDam, Skeet Reese and Mike Iaconelli were likely to participate.

When I asked exactly which pros had signed up for this newfangled fishing league, I was told some of the heavy hitters at BASS had been invited and that already names such as Kevin VanDam, Skeet Reese and Mike Iaconelli were likely to participate.

When I asked White when, exactly, this new venture was taking place he casually answered: in just a few weeks.

In just a few weeks!

I parted that phone call in complete disarray, trying to digest what I had just heard. I imagined a zebra-striped referee blowing a whistle and throwing a yellow flag at KVD for a “fish landing violation.” Or telling Mike Iaconelli to quit fishing because it was time for a “rendezvous” when five-pounders were blowing up all around his boat. Not sure that would go over real well with Ike.

I was given a day or so to think it over. I liked the idea of no information and no practice and immediate live release, but some of the other elements seemed a bit outlandish.

After sleeping on it, I decided to commit to Amistad, mostly because I wanted to see just how in the world this new fishing spectacle was going to play out.

Giant leaps in a small amount of time

Quite honestly, the first couple of days of the first Major League Fishing event were a hot mess. But not in a bad way, it’s just that everyone was trying to do their jobs as best as they could.

The so-called “period breaks” were pandemonium. Camera guys were trying to address audio issues. Boat techs were trying to tighten trolling motors, tweak electronics and trade out boat batteries that didn’t get full charges. The tech guys were scrambling to fix glitches in the SCORETERACKER. Producers were trying to ask pros questions about their fishing day.

And all the while, anglers were trying to retie a few baits for the next period. Basically 30 minutes turned into about 30 seconds.

By day three, however, the MLF group as a whole began to gel and hit a stride. The wrinkles got ironed out and things started to click.

By day five, Major League Fishing starting to look, well, Major League.

The final day rendered exactly what the format was supposed to deliver: The cream had risen to the top and the fishing competition took the front seat.

A week that had started off steeped in uncertainty and apprehension had now turned into a thrill-a-minute ride to the finish. Brent Ehrler had jumped out to a big lead early on the final day, but in the final hour of competition, none other than Kevin VanDam was breathing down his neck, tracking him down fish by fish, minute by minute. A better script could not have been written.

In the end Ehrler was awarded the first Major League Fishing Cup trophy and I remember thinking that in six days I had watched MLF go from merely an idea on paper to a reality. Since then I’ve watched MLF grow from a concept to a well-oiled tournament operation with intention and purpose.

Synergy defines us

After being on the ground at nearly every MLF event since, I can say this group has a definitive synergy. From pros, to boat officials, to camera operators, to producers, to the folks in marketing and operations: everyone sees the same vision, the same goal and the same objective to move this sport to another level.

So when the launching day of the Bass Pro Tour dawned on January 29th at the Kissimmee Chain of Lakes a couple of weeks ago, it was like déjà vu all over again. There was a familiar franticness to that first day in Kissimmee. Yes, there were glitches, gaps and gaffes; things were not perfect out of the gate.

But as the week progressed, bugs were worked out, things began to click and a rhythm was established. The process and format began to produce exactly what it was designed to render: a live look at professional anglers carrying out their craft of tricking bass into biting lures in an ultra competitive arena.

The intensity, the intrigue, the tension, the focus, the thrill of last-second comebacks, the drama of defeat – all right there unfolding before the viewers eyes as it happened.

Six days later when young Jordan Lee lifted that first Bass Pro Tour trophy over his head, I knew MLF had once again taken what was just a promise and premise five months ago and turned it into reality.