Bass Fishing Apr - May 2020 | Page 28

The Man That Was I 26 first met Forrest in 1975. Back then, I was just a kid going to the Ranger Boats factory to give him feedback, quite honestly, on some things I didn’t like about his 1776 SUPER-A, which was his brand-new boat model. I thought the boats were too heavy. I thought they had too many features bass fishermen didn’t really need, and I kind of expected the owner of the company to dislike me as soon as I told him, straight up, how it was. I thought all of those things because I hadn’t met Forrest yet; I didn’t know about the special effect he had on people. By the time I left Ranger that day, I was convinced that Forrest had made all the right calls on that build. I couldn’t believe how nice, how hum- ble and how willing he was to accept recommendations from a kid. It was amazing how cordial he was to me. After meeting with Forrest and learn- ing why they did what they did, he totally changed my mind. In a few years, he’d help totally change my life. The following season, I won Angler of the Year on the National Bass Association (NBA) trail. Back then, B.A.S.S. had a 150-horsepower limit on outboards, and I was run- ning a 175, so I was fishing the NBA and the American Bass Association (ABA) instead. This was very early in my career. I was borrowing money on short-term bank notes to pay entry fees and just starting to win a few things. After I won that Angler of the Year, I got a letter in the mail from Forrest congratulating me on winning the championship. The letter basically said, “Congratulations on winning Angler of the Year. Everyone here at Ranger Boats has been watching, and we are so proud of you.” I was amazed, because I had no idea Forrest even remembered who I was. Then, in 1978, I won the NBA Angler of the Year again, and I also qualified for the Bassmaster Classic for the first time on Ross Barnett Reservoir down in Mississippi. Forrest walked up to me at that Classic and congratulated me on the Forrest was a champion of youth fishing programs. Working alongside Hank Parker and others, he helped to introduce thousands of kids to the outdoors. NBA championship again. He asked me what it was like. “Forrest, it’s kind of bittersweet,” I told him. Startled, he looked at me. “How could it be better?” he asked. So I explained that winning the NBA championship meant my entry fees for the next season would be paid. That was a big deal to me, because I was just sort of becoming financially independent. But in order to get my fees paid, I had to run a boat also awarded to me for winning that title. And that boat – well, it was- n’t a Ranger. I relayed this to Forrest, and he looked at me with a grin. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll put you in a Ranger boat and make sure those fees are paid on the Ranger end,” he said. Then, he shook my hand. I about fainted. That was the end of it. There was no contract. There was a handshake, and that was it. The next week, a lady named Mildred Stewart called me and asked what model boat I wanted and what color I wanted it in. If that wasn’t enough, I found out that Forrest had not only paid my NBA entry fees, but my fees for the ABA and B.A.S.S. as well. There are legends in the South from the 1950s and ’60s. They date back to the days when Elvis Presley — who was always at his heart a poor boy from Tupelo, Miss. — would ride the streets of Memphis on his Harley or walk through the avenues of what- ever city he happened to be playing that night. Inevitably, the stories start with a chance encounter Presley would have with someone less fortu- nate and end with “the King” giving someone a Cadillac. I’m here to tell you that there may be many stories like that about Forrest Wood, too. Forrest was not a braggadocios man, but he did great things for other people. Over the years, I came to learn this not because he’d tell me about his deeds, but because I’d start to carefully put puzzle pieces together. FLWFISHING.COM | MAJORLEAGUEFISHING.COM | APRIL-MAY 2020