THE ATTITUDE OF THE SMALLMOUTH BASS by Dale Verts

(reprinted from the July 2004 magazine)

Have you ever fished for smallmouth bass? Have you ever caught one? Okay, how about this- have you ever tied into a smalljaw in the current of a fast-flowing stream below a riffle? Well if you haven't, then your missin' out on the dangdest thing that can happen to ya when fishin' in Missouri!
Smallmouth bass hurt. I mean they will flat-out put a whup on ya like no other fish, or at least no other fish their size. They bend rods to the screamin' point, and strip line off of drags that have never been moved before. That's if you had the thought to loosin' the dang thing in the first place. And if'n ya didn't, well that line just a-waivin' in the breeze is what's gonna happen!
You cain't cut a smalljaw no slack, 'cuz he ain't gonna cut you none. He's the baddest fish in the creek, and he knows it. Don't believe me? Just wade out there and wait for him to swim by. I swear he'll look ya in the eye, defyin' you ta make somethin' of it. He'll have a look on his face that shows contempt, not to mention a load of attitude. Compared to the spots and bigmouths in the same hole, he's the master. Watch him chase those other pitiful excuses of a salmoides away from his huntin' grounds. They know who the boss is, too.
And there ain't nothin' like the strike from a smalljaw. They don't "inhale" a bait, or "gently rise to the surface" on a topwater plug. Nope, them's statements out of a trout-fishin' rag. Smallmouth intend to eat, and when they make up their mind to do it, heaven help whatever's on their menu!
A few years back I was wadin' a little creek near my home that I knew had some smallmouth in it. I came up on a pool that was waist deep, and right-off seen that it had a bunch of the little murderers in it. There was also some Kentuckies, but they left for other parts 'cuz I intimidated them. Not the smallies. Nope, they just stood their ground and dared me to make a move. I tossed a l'il 'ole Rapala floatin' minnow out about halfway down the pool, where it lit with a light "smack" on the water. A nano-second later there was as much of an explosion as I'd ever heard as a monster smalljaw ate it up. The sound echoed off the bluff next to me, it was so loud. 'Till this day I don't know what that rascal did to make so much noise. I set the hooks, and the fun was on!
Wow! Ta think that this l'il 'ole hole of water could have a six pound lunker smallie in it! The hawg ran towards the bank on the right, and I was already readin' the headlines. I'm tellin ya I didn't just have that bass caught, I had him stuffed, mounted and displayed proudly on my wall. What a toad!
He hit that bluff bank, and rubbed his snout in it a little, tryin' ta remove that nusciance from his face. When that didn't work, he run across the creek to the shallow side, throwin' a monster wake as he went. Now folks, I hadn't even moved him an inch towards me, yet. I figured that ya oughta give a state-record sized smalljaw everything he needs fer a little bit, and that's what I was doin'. Man, what a fight! He was bigger 'n what I thought, and I began to upgrade my plans a little. First off, I was gonna find a way to tie him up real safe. Then I was gonna get to the house and make a phone call. As the smallie slugged it out, I imagined how the call would go-
"Hey, is this here the Bass Pro Shop?" I asked. "Well, ya'll need to get that there Johhny Morris on the phone and tell 'im that ole Dale Verts has him a new addition to that there fish tank of his. What is it? Well darlin', I got him the biggest, meanest, ornoriest smalljaw bass what has ever swum the waters of this here state! Yep, he's over eight pounds 'n I'm a-keepin him fresh fer ya! Yes ma'am, ya'll send that truck right on up. What's that? No problem, 'course I'll run on down an' sign them contracts! Yep, I'll take all that there free tackle 'n sportin' goods too. Picture in the catalog? Well sure honey, that ain't no problem. It ain't every day that a guy catches a new state-record smallie! I'll spiff up real pretty-like, and ya'll kin take a picture of me 'n Johnny shakin' hands! Thanks, I'll see yun's real soon!"
I was a-pattin' myself on the back pretty good on havin' the skill needed to tag a monster smallie like this 'un, when all the sudden he run out of water. The only place that hawg could go was up, and that's where he went. Straight up in the air, to dang near eye level throwin' water ever which way, where he hung suspended for just a moment 'for he crashed back down into the creek.
But somethin' was wrong. Ya see, the bass that jumped, the same one that had dang near destroyed my Rapala and had durn near pulled me into the creek with his powerful runs, well, he just didn't look that big. And then he changed directions and commenced to runnin' straight at me. I cranked fer all I was worth, and then that durn fish jumped again, almost right in my face. Well, what the hey- he wasn't very big at all! Well, fer this here hole of water he was a monster, I guess, but that durn fish didn't hardly weigh two pounds, much less eight!
As the revelation of what was happenin' set in, I forgot to keep the line tight and that blamed bass jumped one more time, leavin that l'il 'ole plug a-floatin' on the surface of the water. I couldn't do nothin' for a moment, as flustered as I was. Finally I looked back down to the water in front of me, 'n seen all those "little", ten 'n twelve-inch smalljaws a-lookin' back at me. Remember when I said that smallies sometimes had a look of contempt on their face? Well, that ain't what these bass had. No sir. The ten or twelve bass I could see in the water in front of me was all lookin' me right in the face.

And they was all smilin'.