“Too much information.” Are we talking about data mining? Edward Snowden? A detailed description of food poisoning? Or fishing?
I can go on-line and find out the water flow of rivers around the state of Maine without leaving the house. I can monitor the progress of the hex hatch. I can compare tackle and read reviews. It’s easy to learn the dressing of a Czech fly pattern. I can be tempted to buy a switch rod and try my hand at Skagit casting (the videos are really cool).
The Maine Inland Fisheries and Wildlife site supplies fishermen with pond surveys county by county - depths, fish, spawning sites, and sometimes even the contents of the fish’s stomach. If you take a look at the online rule book you can get an idea where the big ones are by the way they manage a pond. You can look up the state records and find out where the big ones used to be. Swan Lake, right here in Waldo county, used to produce the biggest trout year after year. All this is useful information, but it should be taken with a pinch of salt like most fish stories. Does all this make it easier to fish? Maybe. It certainly saves you from driving two and half hours from Belfast to wade the West Branch when they’re releasing 7400 cfm through McKay Station.
We were on our way home from a so-so day of fishing that was saved by the pleasure of sharing the pond with a couple of young moose. They could keep their heads under water longer than a pearl diver and grazed so close to the canoe that I had to be careful with my back casts. It’s July and we fished until dark when the mosquitoes got fierce so we loaded the canoe on the car and were out of the woods on a tarred road by 10 o’clock. After another half hour of driving we got in range of a station that broadcasts the Red Sox. They were playing in Anaheim, CA and the game was just getting started.
The Angel’s have a young star named Mike Trout. The Red Sox have a player who’s made himself very useful to the 2013 team named Mike Carp. Even though Mr. Carp is a talented player, Mr. Trout is probably going to make more money wearing a baseball uniform. Trout get more respect. As Ron and I listened to the game we got to wondering how many baseball players were fish? Not heavy drinkers, not Miami Marlins, or Tampa Bay Rays, but guys with fishy names. We could name a few right off the top of our heads.
The next day it was raining so instead of tying flies I took the time to find out. There is, of course, a register of every baseball player that ever made it to the big leagues (which includes a lot of teams you may never have heard of, like the Brooklyn Bridegrooms). There’s also a list of ballplayer’s nicknames and baseball is a great game for nicknames.
There were two more Trouts, unrelated to Mike. Dizzy and Dizzy’s son, Steve. Dizzy Trout, pitched in two World Series for Detroit and made two all star teams before finishing his career for the Red Sox in 1952. Steve was predictably nicknamed Rainbow.
Nicknames? Bill Herring was nicknamed “Smoked” probably because in his entire career of 3 games for the Brooklyn Tip-Tops he had an ERA of 15.00. He was one of four Herrings to make it to the bigs. Herb Herring only pitched one inning for the Senators in 1915. It’s remarkable how many players only made it very briefly to the majors, the “show”. Of the 17,878 players listed in the Baseball Almanac about 20% played one season or less. But most of us don’t get much beyond Little League so pitching one inning against the Babe or Yaz might be a dream come true.
Right off the bat there’s already eight fish / players. Maybe I’d better break this down into leagues. I’ll divide them between a Salt Water and a Fresh Water League. I realize there’s a lot of fish that spend their lives moving between the two and of course there’s players that get traded, but I’ll just drop them in one bucket or another, inter-league play is confusing enough. Let’s start with the Fresh Water League because that’s where I do most of my fishing.
The first fish I ever caught was a Sunny and the prettiest fish I caught last year was a Pumpkinseed Sunfish. There were no players with a family name of Sunny, Sunfish, or Sun. Plenty of guys, like Sunny Jim Bottomley, so nicknamed. Clarence Pickrel (we’ll lend him an e), had a win and no losses in a brief career as a pitcher and struck out all three times he went to bat. There was a Sturgeon, not nicknamed General. Three Pikes, Jess, Jay, and Lip. Lip played for the Brown Stockings, the Red Stockings, The Ruby Legs, the Grays, the Reds, and the Metropolitans. Four Salmons. Eight Bass - Doc, Dick, John, Kevin, Norm, Randy, Brian (still pitching, but back in the minors), and Anthony, who pitches for the Padres. In the European Division of the Fresh Water League there was Sid Bream and six Roaches including Roxey and Skel. There was Chub Feeney who was a Giant’s batboy, the president of the National League, and made it to Cooperstown without pitching to a single batter or facing a ninety mile an hour fast ball. There was, of course, Catfish Hunter and Minnie Minoso who played in five different decades. That’s more than a “cup of coffee”.
The Salt Water League? There are no Flukes, Flounders, Mackerels, Sharks, or Cods. One Snook, Frank. There was Gentleman George Haddock who had a record of 95 - 87 as a pitcher AND played outfield, back before there were pitch counts and when men were Gentlemen. There was Wahoo Sam Crawford and they called George Brett Mullet. You could put a whole team of Rays on the field; there were nine of them. That doesn’t include guys with Ray as a first name. There are probably enough guys nicknamed Red to fill the Salt Water League’s entire Gulf of Mexico Division. But, only one Vida Rochelle Blue, who didn’t need a nickname. A whole school of Jacks, but no Grunions, Drums, or Smelt. Marlon Byrd (sp? sp?) showed up in a Red Sox uniform last year. No guppies, but Roger Angell deserves a mention for his great baseball writing. Angel Pagan is expected to miss 12 weeks with a knee injury for the Giants this summer. There was a Harry Spratt. If his parents had had the foresight to name him Jack, he could have been the only double fish guy.
So, does it help to be a fish to make it to the big leagues? Would a scout give a guy named Charlie “the Tuna” Fish a longer look than he would Fred Jones? Would a manager pencil “Go Go Fish” in as the lead off hitter before Bubba Burdock? That will take more research. I will tell you that no one named Fish ever played major league baseball. Or if you’re watching the game in Spanish there’s never been a Pesca. Only a “Pesky Pole”?
Big League Fishing