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I Hate Babe Winkelman

There, I’ve said it – “I hate Babe Winkelman.” I can’t stand Babe Winkelman, and I can’t stand his show. He’s an old, tired, arrogant, fat man who missed his true calling of being a truck driver by one lucky walleye.

I mean, look at the guy! He has “trucker” written all over him. A scruffy beard, big ol’ beer belly gut, whoopin’ $35 gold chain, bad hat, and a mullet haircut make this clown the perfect candidate for driving the next J.B. Hunt truck. He lives life on the edge of a greasy spoon. How a guy with the charisma of a forklift operator made it onto TV, I have no idea.

I had the unfortunate opportunity to take in one of his low-budget production shows the other night. Believe it or not, I could find nothing better than “Babe Winkelman’s Good Fishin’” with 150 channels to choose from. Babe was fishing this show with guide Carlos, and a sweepstakes winner (I use the word ‘winner’ loosely), Jake. They were fishing waters in Mexico for monster bass. Throughout his arrogant narration, Babe kept commenting on Jake’s silence in the boat, and wondering why it was there. Guess what, Babe – he probably didn’t want to talk to you, you putz! The poor guy was probably just looking for a free fishing trip – didn’t know he’d have to spend the entire trip with you babbling in the front of the boat.

Anyway, Babe kept pulling in bass with each cast, while poor Jake was shown doing nothing more than chucking and winding with the occasional pee-wee thrown into the mix. Not Babe though – big bass after big bass. With each catch he’d turn to Carlos the guide for confirmation that his bass was 7 or 8lbs. Each one of them was about the same size – amazing. Finally, toward the end of the show (how convenient), Jake was able to pull in a 9-pounder and his silence was broken. So, Babe’s the hero, and Jake was made out to be a disciple of Babe.

Funny, not once did Babe put Jake on the fish. It wasn’t Babe who was reading the depth finder, finding contours on a lake map, or recommending lures for Jake. It was Carlos. Yet, Babe treated Carlos like nothing more than a sturdy ox. Get the net Carlos! How much does it weigh Carlos? Rub my back with sunscreen, Carlos. Get the scale, Carlos. Make me a sandwich for my big fat belly, Carlos. OK, so maybe I took some liberties with that, but you get the idea – Babe is a pompous ass who couldn’t buy a fish without a guide.

Depth finders, lake maps, and lure choice – I maintain that Winkelman is a fraud. He’s nothing more than a pretender who knows how to hire the right guides on the right lakes. Put him on a lake without guides, cameras, pre-fishing, or a boat driver, and I’m willing to bet that the only thing he’d catch is a rash from his plastic boat seat.

So, other than just stating that I hate Babe Winkelman, I’m going to make my second bold statement for the day. I can beat Babe Winkelman fishing. That’s right – I can beat Babe. You and me, Babe, man to man. I will out fish you. No guides, no cameras – just two guys going toe to toe. You, Babe, will lose. Go ahead, chubby, take the challenge – shoot me an email and let me know the when and the where – I’m ready for you. Prove me wrong, Babe…prove me wrong.

What’s the matter – scared? I know, the thought of actually fishing on your own is scary, but you can do it. The first step is to get your tired, lazy ass out of the lounger and actually make a few casts without Carlos holding your hand. Hey, maybe move around a little – show some energy. Wouldn’t it be nice if at the end of each of your sad shows we saw you doing something productive instead of leaning against a family room railing sipping your bourbon soaked coffee? Find some treadmill time, Babe. While you’re at it, have your wife Kris put the deep fryer away for awhile. You don’t need it! No more fish wantons for you, mister. Ah, forget it…even without the beer gut, you’ll still look like a trucker.

A trucker and a pompous fraud; I hate Babe Winkelman.

Bob Wood

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