Here Musky…Here Musky, Musky

The 2015 Hardly, Strictly Musky Southern Classic has come and gone once again. This year was one for the books, folks. In no small part because we won, and won big. A 49.5-inch musky big. Our former intern (new title still to be determined) Clifton Alan Broyhill finally fulfilled the potential we saw in him all those many years ago when we hired him (with no pay) to clean the SCOF bathroom, and sealed the deal by sticking the fish we are now calling Musk-a-tron, on the second day of the tournament. We are usually the first ones to say that the tournaments we are involved in aren’t about winning and losing…it’s about the camaraderie of like-minded individuals…or some other campfire bullshit that people say when they lose.

Now that we won, we’ve realized how awesome winning is. Way better than losing…way better. Other than SCOF taking home the prize, the Southern Musky Classic was bigger and better than it’s ever been. Todd Gregory and the boys at Towee Boats worked harder than anyone we know to make sure a good time was had by all, which this year meant 80 anglers from 17 states all went home on Sunday with shit-eating grins, making plans for next year’s tournament. Some of the highlights this year (besides us winning…did I mention we won?) were Buddy McMahon’s musky mural, Pig Farm Ink’s Get Trashed river cleanup, and most importantly getting to hang out with all the fine Southern musky degenerates who congregate in McMinville, Tenn., every year. Also, on a side note, I had a half-pound burger stuffed with grilled shrimp, a new personal burger milestone. While winning is sweet — super sweet — I guess it is true that just participating in this unicorn tournament is like taking a gold medal in the shit show that is the life of a southern musky fly flinger.

– Dave

 

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