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Passing the torch to the next generation
I don’t know what you are seeing, but I have begun to notice young people are outnumbering my generation.
The drivers of cars that pull up beside me at red lights, the people in the line at the grocery store, the wait staff at restaurants, the other folks who work at the company where I work – they all are getting younger and younger.
And now that I mention this, it occurs to me that the people who compete with me in bass tournaments are getting younger, too.
This is a good thing.
I still have a grip on the torch, but I acquiesce it will soon be passed. Those young folks are reaching. Their fingers are stretching and wiggling to grab at even the slightest hint that people my age are letting down their guard.
I am a member of Mohawk Valley Bass Club. Founded 45 years ago just across the state line by a group of men who lived in Lawrence County’s Mohawk School District, the bass club soon recruited a majority of its membership from Youngstown and Warren. Member moved their monthly meetings to the old Krakusy Hall on South Avenue.
I joined the club about 10 years after it was founded. I was one of the younger members back then, a new dad with a little boat, a love for fishing and a keen desire to experience the thrills glamorized by bass pros like Roland Martin, Jimmy Houston and Bill Dance.
I wrangled an invitation to apply for membership. I remember walking into the meeting room in the Krakusy basement. I was in awe at the fishing talent waiting for the president to call the meeting to order.
Membership was a who’s who among local bass anglers. There were a lot of Bobs. Bowman, Goricki, Mullen and one or two more. There were a trio of Tommys, too – Ventresco, Obney and Voytko. There were Rons and Johns and Jims and Joes, Paul and Bill and Dale and Phil.
I thought I was a pretty good stick when I signed up in ’85. Soon, however, I was humbled. It’s one thing to catch a couple fish and get all puffed up with pride. It’s quite another thing to come back to the dock and discover your two bass are hardly worth putting on the scales compared to 20 better catches that day.
Few anglers truly forge their own way. Every angler I know, including me, owes thanks to mentors.
If it weren’t for the founding fishers of Mohawk Valley Bass Club, I might still be hunting and pecking from Lake Erie and Mosquito to Berlin and the Ohio River.
Lately, I mentioned above, my fellow Mohawk members are getting younger. This is a good thing.
The phenomenon of intercollegiate bass tournament competition has swept the nation. Youngstown State, Kent State and the University of Akron have bass fishing teams.
YSU teammates Jeff Grope, Cody Luknis and Jared Latone are wearing their Penguin colors today at Mohawk meetings, now held monthly at the Youngstown Maennerchor Club on Mahoning Avenue. KSU Golden Flash Garret Anderson also has joined.
They say they joined to learn. That’s great. We’re glad to oblige. But the truth is, the old timers let them in so we have someone to take us fishing after we decide it’s the young folks’ turn to carry the bass fishing torch.
And that is a good thing, too.