ESPN

With his daughters, Hannah and Bethany, playing at his feet, Jay Yelas lounged back in a chair the night before the 2002 CITGO BASS Masters Classic. The public meet-and-greet at the Classic Outdoor Show was winding down, and Yelas took it all in with the bemused expression of someone who had been there before. Eleven times to be exact.

He seemed quite relaxed and strangely confident for someone who had spent most of his Classic hours wondering how many more snakes could bite him. Even a third place performance in 1993 at Alabama's Logan Martin Lake had offered no relief, not after David Fritts won it going away. But this time, he said, things were going to be different.

For most armchair quarterbacks, a statement of that kind might be interpreted as prophecy, something that brings the hair up on your neck. In this instance, however, it was anything but ethereal. After 12 years on the circuit, he had finally admitted to himself that something in his Classic approach was fundamentally flawed. Somehow, some way, the decisions that had led to an unblemished record of 12 consecutive Classic appearances — a streak unbroken since his rookie season of 1990 — seemed to forsake him during the midsummer show. Had his versatility as a professional bass fisherman pointed him in too many directions?

"I'd never done anything for 11 years, and I decided it was time to change my approach. This time I had a totally different approach to practice. I decided to just fish the river. I made myself stay up there all five days (of pre-practice). I never came down to the lake," Yelas told B.A.S.S. TIMES.

"In years past, with six days to pre-fish for the Classic, I always tried to run over the whole lake. I wanted to see every creek and everything on the lake. Like in New Orleans. I fished everywhere, a different place every day. I've done that every year and I got sick and tired of having it not work."

Finally, Yelas had listened to a voice that called out from his boyhood. The message was a simple one: Learn about bass movement, stick to the basics in tackle, and above all else, enjoy yourself.

Although Yelas is a deeply religious man, most likely the fishing lesson did not come by way of the Almighty. In the angling department, most of Yelas' early training came as the result of sharing a boat with Bill Sedar.

With the best tackle shop in Santa Barbara, Calif., Sedar was basking in the glory years of his retirement in 1981. A local fishing guru at nearby Lake Cachuma, and someone who fished for bass nearly every day, this 67-year-old angler probably couldn't imagine at the time that the 16-year-old who hung around his tackle shop would someday take home the Classic crown.

For Yelas, his friendship with Sedar was pure serendipity. Here at the most critical juncture of his fishing career, Jay had found a mentor who didn't dwell on the unimportant. "Bill was a wealth of information. I was so fortunate to have someone like that as a mentor because he wasn't a tournament guy who got caught up in the latest fads. He was very sound at the basics of bass fishing. He had a very small tacklebox, but he could do it all," recalled Yelas.

"One of his strengths was noticing how the fish move and migrate. How they'll show up in different areas at different times of the year. He was so in tune with the habits of those bass at Cachuma, he could tell you just about exactly where they were located. Why they would be here, why they would be there. So, I learned not just about techniques and light line, but about bass behavior as well.

"This was huge, more than any technique. It was understanding the life habits of a bass, the reasons why you're catching the fish."

While Jay was building a strong foundation for his pro fishing career with Sedar's sage advice and steady hand, his parents, Joe and Kim, were supplying some even-handed restraint. Having bought Jay his first boat, a 13-foot johnboat equipped with a 4-horsepower motor, they resisted their son's request to take his boat along to college at Oregon State. At least for his freshman year.

"I made sure I got about a 3.8 GPA my freshman year so I could get a boat that summer," noted Yelas, who stepped up to a 1968 vintage, 14-foot aluminum boat with a 25-hp motor.

"Sometimes I would arrange my classes in the spring so I went to school Tuesday through Thursday so I could fish four days a week. I would do all the pre-fishing for tournaments in my little skiff and fish the events out of my partners' full-sized bass boats."

Despite a slipping grade point average, Yelas completed his degree in four years, and once again his partners were there to support him in his vision quest. This time they agreed to loan him the money for a competitive bass boat, a debt that Jay repaid after just one season of tournament competition.

After placing sixth in his first professional event on Lake Mead and generating a bankroll of $8,000, Yelas took up residence in Phoenix, Ariz. It was here that he met his future wife, Jill, and began a remarkable career that would eventually find its capstone in Birmingham 15 years later.

Looking more like a choirboy than a grizzled competitor, Yelas all but dismantled the Western circuits over the next 2 1/2 years. When he pulled up stakes in 1990 and headed east for the uncertainties of a B.A.S.S. career, there must have been a collective sigh of relief among his bass fishing brethren.

But now the Hawaiian-born Left Coaster was heading toward even greater challenges and, to some, an unfortunate bit of timing. Instead of blazing onto the national scene with a stunning solo performance his rookie year, Yelas found himself sharing the spotlight with perhaps the best bass angler ever to pick up a rod and reel — Kevin VanDam.

"Early on, I think we were more competitive with each other than we are now. Today, Kevin is recognized worldwide as being the No. 1 fisherman in the sport. There's never been anyone like him. His track record over the past 12 years speaks for itself.

"Kevin has raised the bar in the sport of fishing. We used to think that Rick Clunn and Larry Nixon and Denny Brauer were as good as fishermen could ever get. Then here comes Kevin. I thank God Kevin is who he is. It shows the rest of us how much potential exists."

Knowing what we now know about Jay Yelas, his gracious comments come as no surprise. Even so, he has labored in VanDam's enormous shadow, creating his own niche and forging a career that has now eclipsed the B.A.S.S. million-dollar mark.

Through all of it, the teachings of Bill Sedar have kept flooding back like the strong current which brought him a Classic championship on Lay Lake — a lifetime of lessons not only in the art of fishing, but also in the much tougher art of life itself.

"Bill never tried to teach me about tournaments because he had never fished one in his life. But he definitely kept me grounded in the basics. Nobody rides me harder than Bill does. You have to be good friends to have a relationship like that," he said.

"One of the best things about Bill is his attitude about life. It's probably his greatest legacy. His enthusiasm and the passions he has for the people he loves and the things he loves to do. He is still wildly in love with his wife, Barbara, after 50 years of marriage and sets the standard for a romantic relationship for Jill and I.

"Here's a guy when he goes fishing — idling out of the harbor in the morning — is so excited he can't contain himself. He just breaks out in song and starts singing at the top of his lungs because he can't wait to get out there and catch that first bass."

A loving family and a caring mentor are truly gifts of the highest order. But what of the student? For any teacher who succeeds, there is a pupil who must learn. In Jay Yelas, Joe and Kim raised a remarkable son, and Bill Sedar found a champion.

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