Steve

The day of the tournament began rather badly. Pat had graciously offered and I accepted the upper bunk of his motor home. We woke from a not to sound sleep at about 3:30. I left to do those morning things and I think I shut the door to the motor home that was locked from the inside and Pat was out checking the boat. I returned to find Pat attempting to break into his own motor home.Being some what associated with the criminal element of our society, I began to eyeball all the quick enrty points of the motor home. I noticed a side window was not locked completly and was able to gain access. The day just got better.

Keith and I put in and motored to the Break where we met up with the rest of the Nut Cases. It was decided to follow Cooch and Dana into some back water cove, name unknown, where we began throwing a Spook and a Spitten Image. After I caught a 10 incher I was dehooking when out of the corner of my eye I say the water well up behind Keith's Spook, never connected but It had to have been a dandy. Keith flipped our first keeper in this cove before it was decided to go to were Keith knew we could catch a limit.

After about a 20 minute ride up the San Joaquin we began flipping the rocks in the current and singing this little song, after the first keeper-fo mo, after the second- three mo, the third two-mo, the fourth was one mo, and after we boated the last of our initial limit the song changed to BIG-MO. Keith weighed and tagged our first five as I ran the boat, kurthunk a good one was added to the stringer. We culled about 2 or 3 to get from about 9 lbs to maybe 11, before Keith said let's get outta here, I'm gonna show ya some of Clow's secret S--t. Don't ask me where we went cause I don't know.

When we arrived at this secret place, Keith began thowing a crank bait and I a blade. We both caught a couple but none big enough to cull. We went to the back of a small cove in very shallow water where Keith flipped our final keeper, the biggest of the day out of a foot of water with a reaper. Well the time was running thin and we hadn't found BIG-MO yet, so we beat it back the break to fish the tullies. As luck would have it the wind was blowing hard and the current was stiff and Keith's Motorguide was on the fritz or his batteries were sick.

11:25, 5 minutes to go. We round the bend and slow at the bouy to see only five boats, counting us. What a let down and low feeling as we motored towards the weigh-in area. But wait, what is that we see but an angle named Angle standing on the dock. Little did we know how important that sighting would be and how it would effect the out come of this event. We weigh in and are greated by a bunch of well wishing nuts from the gallery, Gene, Chris, NaCl, and more. We have to go back to the ther ramp to load the boat and return to find that Sylvia had taken ill and needed medical attention. Keith has to leave to do this duty. As I'm walking back to the weigh-in area I'm met by Chris who saying that we may have done it, unreal!

Well as you all know we DID DO IT. I will never forget this experience as long as I live and hope that we can assemble this same group to defend @ Clear Lake next year. Thanks to all especially Keith, from who I learned a lot in a very short time.

That's my story and I'm sticken to it.

Steve without Butch.