The Man and His Mantra

Some events leave more lasting impressions than others. Our most important memories evolve over time. As we grow and age, our perception of the past changes, elevating the importance of some aspects of events, while diminishing the significance of others.

These statements apply to my recollection of the final game of the 1983 NCAA Basketball Tournament. In the season's last event, played in Albuquerque, New Mexico, the Houston Cougars faced the North Carolina State Wolfpack, with the winner claiming the prize as national champion. Heavily favored, the Coogs hoped to place the cherry on top of a supremely sweet season; they came in flying high.

The '83 Houston Cougars were more than a mere basketball team; they were a national phenomenon. Dubbed Phi Slama Jama, a fraternity of forceful dunkers, the squad featured several shining stars, most notably Clyde "The Glide" Drexler and Hakeem "The Dream" Olajuwon, both now widely ranked among the top 50 players to ever lace up the high-tops and step onto the hardwood. These dudes prided themselves on playing above the rim and dunking with flair, on sprinting up and down the court to run up the score. Their coach, Guy V. Lewis, did a worthy job of creating a system for them without stifling their creativity.

But in the biggest moments of the season and of his career, Lewis got in their way. Albuquerque is a mountain city; the air in the gym was thin. Olajuwon played brilliantly, but he showed signs of exhaustion as time wound down in the second half. Drexler had four fouls early in the second half and had to sit on the bench for nearly ten minutes. Attempting to nurse a modest lead, with Hakeem sucking oxygen from a mask at every time out, the coach decided to try and shorten the game when Glide went back in, directing his players to throw the ball around the perimeter each possession and kill some clock, rather than run their normal offense.

Famously, the strategy failed, and the Wolfpack won the game on a last-second dunk by Lorenzo Charles, ruining the season for Phi Slama Jama and their fans. To this day, the memory of those events haunts me. I'll never forget the bitterness I felt when the game ended. And I'll never forgive the Cougar's coach for what he did.

Looking down the twin barrels of immortality, with the prize in his sights, Guy Lewis failed to pull the trigger. When he flinched, he disrespected the greatness of Glide and Dream, undermined the superiority of his team. He should have implored them to seize the moment, to drive to the hole, keep their foot on the gas and go. Instead, on the final lap of the season's marathon of events, he told them to pull up. In essence, he asked them to quit, and all hope was lost.

Wolfpack fans, of course, loved the game as much as I and all the Phi Slama Jama fans hated it. When the buzzer sounded, their coach celebrated what he perceived as a fulfillment of his team's destiny. They'd already made several comeback wins to earn a place in the season's final game, and they played like they knew they would win. All of this I remember, but four decades later, the actual events of the game and the identity of its winner matter far less to me than does the memory of the Wolfpack's coach and what he became.

Most folks knew little about Jimmy V before his team won the ring in the mountains that day. But over the next decade, the people of this nation came to love and respect him. In 1993, while giving a speech at the ESPY Awards Ceremony, he became an American hero when he announced the formation of the Jimmy V Foundation, an organization dedicated to raising money to fund medical research in the fight against cancer. Less than two months later, he died of adenocarcinoma.

On the precipice, facing the abyss of his own mortality, Jim Valvano sealed his legacy. He provided living proof while speaking his truth. In his finest hour, the man and his mantra merged into one. Weak, barely able to stand and walk to the podium, he nevertheless summoned the energy to deliver an ageless speech. As the life of the man drew to an end, the life of the mantra began. His foundation provides help to cancer victims to this day.

Though Valvano's message has little to do with basketball and less to do with fishing, I'd argue its message does apply to us as anglers. I openly acknowledge the superficial absurdity of using something so iconic, with all its depth and gravity, to make a point about something so seemingly trivial as fishing, and I've abbreviated and paraphrased his famous words below, also tweaked the message slightly, so it better addresses an angler specifically. I hope my version honors Valvano adequately. His words and his life pay homage to the enduring power of perseverance and the sometimes inspiring strength of the human spirit...

Growing up, I had several mentors who taught me about life, fishing, all the things that matter most. Many of them looked up to my grandfather, who always seemed to get the most out of every situation. He told me something I never forgot, and I've tried every day of my life since then to heed his advice.

You should try and do three things each day, he said. You should wrap your mind around important concepts, think about them intently. You should also pause to see the humor in life, find a way to laugh at situations, even at yourself. And, you should allow the intensity of this life to stir your emotions, move you to tears. If you can do these three things, you'll know you've made the most of your day.

Now, all these years later, I could not agree more. Any day you're able to think, laugh and cry is a good day. A life filled with deep thought, laughter and sincere emotion is a life well-lived. But there's more to life than fun and internal reflection. The best lives are filled with achievements and accomplishments.

My mentors all stressed the same thing to me, not only with their words, but in the ways in which they lived, the behaviors they modeled for me. They were all movers and shakers, motivated to be great at whatever they did. I learned the value of hard work and an intense focus on goals from them.

You need to find something meaningful to do, they said. When you figure out what you want to be, set some goals, then pursue them with every fiber of your being. Once you achieve some of the goals and feel like you've gotten somewhere, set the bar higher and start over. This cycle will lead you to a place where you can be proud of what you've done and indeed who you are as a person.

I applied these life lessons as much as I could in all the things I did, including in the world of fishing. I always believed in the value of working toward a goal. I'm proud to say I accomplished most of what I wanted to do on the water, though none of us can say we always picked the right plug, caught every fish who took a bite at what we offered or made the right decision with every turn of the wheel.

But I can honestly say I tried to win without losing sight of the need to play the game the right way. And I'm honored to say I put the interests of the resource above my own selfish needs. For this reason, I went out of my way to try and teach young people to do things to respect the resource fully. I wanted them to believe we should all try to leave the world in better shape after we're gone than it was in before we came along.

I learned sporting ethics from my mentors. From an early age, I knew the rules. A big one is this―if you kill it, you must eat it. I tried to add a wrinkle to this important mantra. If you don't need it, don't kill it. Release it to live another day. I taught my proteges this by releasing most of the fish I caught when others watched and also when they didn't.

Now, as I stand here, I know my time is short. But I continue to do the things I was taught by the people who helped mold me into the man I am. I do so because the most important truth has not, and will never change. Today is all we've got. We should forget about yesterday and live like there's no tomorrow.

Whether we pursue a goal purely for the sake of personal satisfaction, compete against our peers for a prize in some kind of competition, or simply want to share our passion for the sport and respect for the resource, we should do the thing the same way. Father Time and his ready agents will eventually win the war, destroy our bodies and minds. But nothing can steal our spirit, nor change what's in our hearts and souls.

As long as the light of life shines, we should honor the flame by fighting the good fight.And by never giving up. Don't ever give up. NEVER give up...

These days, when I recall Phi Slama Jama's loss in '83, I focus less on the failure of the Coogs' coach and more on the triumph of his adversary. One of these things carries more weight than the other. Guy Lewis lost a big basketball game; Jimmy V won the most important battle in the game of life because he fought with such amazing grace.