News of the CITGO Bassmaster Classic coming to Pittsburgh yesterday was enough to make a grown man cry.
"I'm a 300-pound guy, but that doesn't mean I don't have emotions," said an overjoyed Denny Tubbs, a tournament die-hard who began pushing to bring a Classic to Pittsburgh a decade ago.
"My wife started screaming for joy when I called her because she knows all the time I've put into it, all the sleepless nights, all the headaches. We both remember when nobody thought it was possible."
Making it to the Classic is a dream realized by an elite few who start as amateurs at the grass- roots level and work their way up through layers of competition to fish among the world's 50 best anglers. Tubbs, like most of the half-million BASS members in 47 states and six foreign lands, never may come close to vying in a Classic, but it is a vision that has him hooked.
Tubbs, an aquatics resources specialist for the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission who has earned the nickname "River Guru," is part of a corps of local boosters that always has believed in the potential of Western Pennsylvania's rivers.
A PAFBC survey released last week shows that smallmouth populations at Sharpsburg below the Highland Park Dam -- one of the Allegheny River's most popular pools -- have never looked better, with just under half of the 40 bass sampled measuring 15 inches or more, and three measuring more than 20 inches.
"Those are some nice fish," said a surprised Jay Yelas, the 2002 Classic champ, from his boat on the Ohio River in the southern tip of Illinois yesterday, when he got the news about Pittsburgh. He was scouting the water for the final Bassmaster tournament of the season before the Classic in Charlotte, N.C., July 30-August 1.
Yelas, a 14-time Classic contestant from Tyler, Texas, who ranks fourth in all-time Bassmaster tournament winnings, has never fished Western Pennsylvania's rivers, but hopes to make the cut again next year.
Though there are a few different ways to qualify, reaching the top takes hard work and luck. All anglers pay their dues as amateurs for at least a year, then come up through the ranks at the local, state, regional and national levels, or they qualify by scoring points in a series of three open tournaments each year, said BASS spokesman Elizabeth Land.
Only five Classic slots are open to amateurs. The rest go to pros who, between tournaments, are seeking sponsorships, pushing products, giving seminars and traveling.
"They're either in their truck or on the water," Land said. "They're either fishing a tournament or getting ready for one."
BASS memberships are on the rise in the Northeast, said Land. As of last year, Pennsylvania was fifth in the country for BASS-affiliated anglers (22,688 of the organization's 570,136 members, representing 3,000 chapters). Not all compete, but those who do often start off fishing buddy tournaments with friends, then move to BASS-sanctioned events.
"They love the sport as much as I do," Yelas said of the fans who have followed him for 15 years. "It's something the non-angler can't appreciate -- the passion these guys have for fishing. I'm fortunate enough to make a living doing something these guys only dream about. I know there's a thousand people who would love to be in my shoes."
Because of the growth of bass fishing here, Pittsburgh was a serious Classic contender from the start.
The tournament runs three days, but is part of a week-long celebration that will include an outdoors show at the convention center, nightly weigh-ins at the Civic Arena, meet-the-pro autograph sessions, and a junior Classic in which 80 of the country's top teens compete for scholarship money. All events, including the outdoors show and weigh-in, are free.
But amidst the hoopla, the heart of the Classic is still the tournament.
"I don't know what the quality of the fishing is in Pittsburgh," Yelas said. "I don't know because I haven't heard much about it. But it's not an issue. To the pros, in a world championship, you just have to be better than the next guy.
"We're not there to have a good time, to be laughing and giggling. We're there to catch fish. And whoever gets the most, wins."
Yelas likes fishing the moving water of a river system, he said. He won the 2002 Classic, fishing the river below Lake Lay in Birmingham.
"It was swift current -- eight, 10 miles an hour -- which, in summer, is where you're going to find your best fish," he said.
Land said the physical tournament parameters -- just where anglers are allowed to fish -- will be defined when ESPN and BASS officials come to town to choreograph the event. All PAFBC regulations around slot size and creel limits will be honored, including those in the Big Bass Program waters of Tarentum, she said.
Yelas and other hopefuls for the 2005 Classic have until January to visit western Pennsylvania's rivers and to talk with locals who may point them to hot spots. After that, rules prohibit them from talking to anyone about the fishing except each other, though they can cull information in other ways.
They will be given two weeks, one in the spring and another just before the Classic, to scout the rivers and prepare strategy.
"The Internet is helpful, but there's nothing like time on the water," Yelas said.
"You know a lot of people don't think of fishing in terms of a natural-born talent, but the top guys do have a God-given talent, like any athlete or artist. Same thing. It takes a good old-fashioned dose of hard work to make it to the top, but we also have an uncanny ability to catch fish."