Dateline: A dining room table column
“FYI, when I got off the phone with you at lunch time I got a call an hour later that my stepmom passed away. Weird how we were talking about it less than 6 hours earlier.”
Frank Talley
Text msg 8:10PM 4/30/19
Elite angler
I was sitting up in my home office writing Frank Talley’s story, listening to the song play over and over, writing something, to be honest, a little harsh.
Early in the morning I talked with him on the phone before he left for practice. Nice talk, but I was concerned about a couple of things he told me, mainly family stuff like taking a day off from practice to go meet his daughter’s newborn baby, his first grandchild, other things about visiting sick friends and family during events.
I wasn’t going to rip him about it, but I was going to say that as a professional playing a professional sport during events, game days and practice days, you need to be 100 percent in it. You need hyperfocus. You need to be on the field of play 100 percent.
But then came that text msg.
And as I sat and texted back to him this: “Prayers for your family man,” I highlighted every word I wrote in the story and then hit the delete key.
Sitting here alone, writing only by the light from my laptop monitor, my wife safe and asleep in our bedroom down the hall, my children happy, healthy and safe with their loved ones, maybe, you know, it is really, just a game.
Just a game.
Back when I was at ESPN and before that WPXI in Pittsburgh covering professional sports, I worked with other professional journalists. Amongst us we had this kind of unwritten rule to never categorize a sporting event as “a battle,” or “a war,” or any hyperbole like that. We all know that during “sudden death,” no one actually dies.
And punting and passing a football is not combat. True combat is ugly and evil and people are maimed and killed, there is nothing like it on earth, certainly not in any sporting arenas since the Coliseum of Rome closed and the lions and tigers were sent home.
I don’t know Frank’s stepmother. I do know that she was his stepmother for the last 30 of his 44 years of life. I do know when he spoke of her to me he did so kindly. I also know that just a year ago Frank also lost his father, double grief in very short time.
I’ve always written that only life and death is life and death and everything else is just stuff to deal with. Tonight though life and death was life and death. One of our anglers lost a family member, and dealing with that, no matter what place you are in, is much more important than weighing in five big fish.
To Frank Talley; to his wife, Christy; to his daughter, Destiny; and his son, Frank “Chi” Talley IV, from myself, from B.A.S.S., from all our fans, our prayers and thoughts are with you in this time of grief.
Now comes the Frank “The Tank” Talley story, with no judgment, with no advice, no quotes or lyrics, that one upfront says it all, but in retrospect told with compassion and concern for a fellow human being in times of sadness.
Just wanted you to know the truth behind the words, as is your right.
db
There stands a 6 year old with the biggest fish he ever caught, a young Frank Talley fishing somewhere in Texas.
“I was fishing with my dad when I caught that, it wasn’t the first fish I ever caught but it was the biggest.”
Frank is from Temple, Texas, which is about 40 miles or so south of that husband and wife couple who fixes up homes in Waco, Texas.
That’s Christy standing next to some mountain man (aka Frank) who “travels with me to the tournaments 95 percent of the time, its great having her out here with me.”
Here’s his son, Frank IV, and daughter, Destiny…
And I’m sure the latest addition to team Talley is his first grandson, Colton Ryder Winans. “We call him Colt for short.”
Frank is with us due to his Angler of the Year performance in last year’s four Basssmaster Central Opens, “It’s a one and done AOY, they don’t do that anymore, but I placed in the top 12 in three of the four Opens to get my ticket to the Elites.”
He also fished the Bassmaster Classic in Knoxville. “I’ll tell you, db, I still get goose pimples when I think about that. I missed fishing the third day by 2 ounces, but I’m telling you I have fire burning within me to get back to the Classic.”
And that’s going to be a tall order for the upcoming Classic, “I’m in second from last place, 74 out of 75. It’s going to be tough, going to be tough.”
Oh yeah.
“I can’t seem to put a second day together. I’ve got to do well both days, both days.”
Actually, the thought should be, “I’ve got to do well all four days.” It’s a four day gig, and the best way to make the biggest fishing gig of all, the Classic, is to be fishing as many third and fourth days as possible.
“The learning curve has been steep, I’ll tell ya, this ain’t your local fruit jar tournament anymore.”
Yep.
For the rookies there is something we don’t talk about much what with most everything being about on the water, fish, weights and places … and that is it’s a learning curve off the water as well.
Not only are the rookies new to what it’s like to fish at the Elite level, but they also are new to the secondary aspect of the game, like, you know, where to park.
Sounds simple, huh? But if this is the first time in a big or small town, and you don’t know how to get around like the guys who’ve already been here, it hurts some, takes you off your game some.
Imagine, half the field knows where to stay and where not to, where to eat and where not to, where’s the best Supermarket or the closest Walmart, which is the easiest gas station to get in and out of … and dozens and dozens of other little things that when added up can be one big deal.
“Sure it’s about catching fish, of course that’s what it is about, but it’s about your ability to come up to speed real quick on all aspects of the game in and out of the water, and that’s taking me some time to do. Like Winyah Bay, I’ve never in my life even seen anything like that body of water, don’t care what anyone says, a couple days of practice doesn’t get you ready for that unless you live with something like that all the time.”
I’ve stood on the sidelines of many first NFL games of the season, and even though the rookies have gone through training camp and preseason stuff, they are never, never ready for that first kickoff tied to a paycheck. They’ve never seen the speed of when the whistle blows in a real game. They’ve never been, as what one told me once, “professionally hit.” More than one has come off the field looking out through their helmet’s ear hole.
To be honest, I’m giving Frank a pass. It’s only a one-time pass, trust me, but as I age, as I am now much closer to the end than certainly the beginning, as more and more people I know pass on, I’m not going to hold anyone to a game when in fact real life, life and death, comes into play.
In times of shouting, in times of snarkiness, in times of keyboard assassins, we need to pull back and cherish kindness, humility, grace and manners.
It’s OK to have an opinion if it’s based on fact, all else is just being a wiseass. To call out someone who put family before fame when you know all the facts involved is just flat out irresponsible, if not downright being a chump.
Frank knows how to fish, there’s no doubt, and once his learning curve adjusts to all that involves fishing the Elites, on and off the water, he’ll do fine. When that time comes I will judge him upon that.
But right now, losing a father and a stepmother, loved ones, both within a year of each other, rightly so can take a toll, and I say that as I hear listen to my wife, and our dog sleep in the other room.
Judge not his place on a numbers chart, judge him on his place as a son, as a husband, a father and now a grandfather, and when I do it with everything on the table, in my eyes, Frank “The Tank” Talley has already made the Classic in my book.
Peace and prayers to all those who need them,
db