2000fish's Blog – Steve Wozniak's hunt for fish species

DATELINE: SEPTEMBER 15, 2024 – KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI

I admit it. Despite the disapproving glances from Marta and, indeed, almost everyone over the age of 14, I enjoy Taylor Swift’s music. But this crap with Travis Kelce has to stop. I love the game of football and it is a beloved part of my autumns and my orthopedic surgeon’s retirement, but why we have to see a pop singer eating nachos five times a game is beyond me. And this whole mess has attracted fans who were otherwise indifferent or even hostile to the sport, and if I have to explain the difference between Travis Kelce and a good tight end one more time, I’m going to scream.

I’m a hater, and I’m going to hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.

September of 2024 would put my patience to the test. It had been decided that the annual “Brew Crew” tour would be in Kansas City, and this meant a Chiefs game. The plus side – I would be in the same stadium as Taylor Swift. The plus size – 15,000 of her fans would be there, melting down at the occasional jumbotron shot of Tay-Tay and only faintly aware a football game was being played.

The group assembled on a Friday. Every city has its logistical challenges, but in KC, the stadiums are right next to each other. This is still a bit of a haul from downtown and anything else to do, but it’s handy to walk home from the games. The regular group – me, Marta, Steve Ramsey, Ron, and the sometimes evil Carol, would be joined by another couple, Jeff and Jerri.

L-R that’s Marta, me, the occasionally sinister Carol, Ron, Jeff, Jerri, and Ramsey.

Steve and I had worked with Jeff in Indianapolis back in 1990 – he was a senior VP at the top of my chain of command. Steve has been friends with him all these years, but I had not seen him in more than three decades. Back in those early days of my work history, I was terrified of the man. As I advanced in my own career and became a senior executive in my own right, I looked back on a lot of lessons I had learned from him – for example, the power of the phrase “I don’t think this is working out.” (I also learned a great deal from Ramsey, still the most organized person I have ever met.)

Kansas City is a surprisingly cool place to visit. Our first stop Saturday was the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum.

A must-visit if you’re in the area.

I am a big baseball fan, and while it is truly tragic that our national pastime was segregated for many years, it was fascinating to learn about these players and their history. Many Americans think this was a 19th century relic, but the last Negro League stopped play in the early 1960’s – in my lifetime. Many beloved players from my childhood – Willie Mays and Hank Aaron, to name two – played in the segregated leagues before they became MLB Hall of Famers. But so many other great players toiled in anonymity, careers coming and going before Jackie Robinson took that first at-bat in 1947.

Cool Papa Bell – reputedly the fastest man to ever play the game, he was already retired by the time the color barrier was broken. It was said he could turn off the light switch at his hotel room door and be under the sheets before it got dark.

A Detroit Stars jersey.

This is not a proud part of US history – I strongly believe a baseball team should be the best 25 guys they can get. Except Cleveland.

Marta insisted on the Kansas City Art Museum, which, curiously, has a shuttlecock as its symbol.

I have no idea why.

Ramsey meets his grumpy twin.

What happens in Degas stays in Degas.

We also visited a steamship wreck museum, which displayed items largely excavated from farm fields – the river has changed course so often over the years that the hulks end up miles from the modern-day path.

A menu retrieved from the SS Clara. It is very similar to a menu I saw from Ramsey’s elementary school cafeteria.

Needless to say, there was going to be fishing involved. As we were just a few miles from Kansas, there was the appeal of adding a new species there. I have caught loads of fish in Kansas, but not one of them has been new for me. There was also the appeal of a goldeye. This maddeningly elusive river fish has evaded me over days and days of midwestern attempts, but the Missouri River is supposed to be jammed with them.

I had some shore spots from Ron and Jarret, but I figured it was a better idea to find a guide who could cover more water. I hit the jackpot on my first call – Captain Olen Lehman of KC Rodbenders, who is a catfish and crappie guide by trade, but uses goldeye for bait and certainly knows where they live.

Captain Olen with a flathead he caught on fresh goldeye.

We met early Sunday at a boat ramp that faced the city skyline.

KC at dawn. It was so quiet you could still hear the echoes of George Brett yelling at the umpire.

Captain Olen clearly knew his rivers very well, and while he was surprised to meet someone who wanted to target goldeye, he became very interested in the whole species list thing and had a few ideas for me on other trips. We motored a mile or so downstream, and I set up to throw small jigs and spinners. There was a lot of activity on the surface, and I knew at least some of them had to be goldeye.

I got a huge hookup on my first cast, but it became quickly apparent that this fish was far too big to be my target. It bent out the hook after about five minutes – my bet is a silver carp. I had a few more bites from them, then missed a smaller fish that gave a much more rattly bite – likely what I was looking for. Just before 8am, less than half an hour after we left the dock, I hooked up on the right critter, and Olen gently netted it into the boat. I had my goldeye.

Species 2338. Unfortunately, we were a few hundred yards back into Missouri, so I still haven’t caught a new species in Kansas.

We fished a few more hours and landed a few more goldeye, some channel catfish, and of course, freshwater drum.

Just once, I’d like to get a ten-pounder.

Olen is the real deal, and I highly recommend him any time you’re in the area.

Shortly after noon, I was back at the hotel and preparing for the football game. KC was playing Cincinatti, and being that Ramsey is a Bengals fan, Marta and I wore Bengals garb, even though Taylor might throw nachos at us. Ramsey chickened out and sported Chiefs garb.

The gang outside of Arrowhead.

Amusingly, Marta’s “Ocho Cinco” jersey – purchased because it was the least expensive piece of Bengals gear on Amazon – was a huge hit. She got her photo with several other similarly budget-conscious fans, and posted to her twitter under “Representing for the two best receivers in NFL history.”

She was re-tweeted by Chad Ochocinco himself, and got over 71,000 views. We are doomed as a society.

A pre-game flyover, or Taylor Swift arriving, I’m not sure.

The game itself was a mixed bag. The KC fans had no problem with the Bengals gear – they were quite an affable bunch – but there were so many “Swifties” that any gags about Kelce drew dirty looks and could easily have started a brawl.

Perfectly safe in a very well-behaved crowd. Of course, with the refereeing they get, they never have much to be upset about.

There was an eruption of high-pitched squealing every time they showed her on the jumbotron, yet the same group was largely indifferent when Mahomes threw a touchdown pass. KC ended up winning on a last-second field goal, largely because Taylor sits in the review booth.

And there she is, eating nachos and reversing a first down for the Bengals.

We had some excellent meals during the weekend, and the gang was great fun – Jeff and Jerri were a great addition. Jeff, a master diplomat, somehow got us into a steakhouse that was booked out for the whole week – my hat is off to you, sir. Somewhere in the middle of dinner, it hit me that Jeff was treating me like just one of the gang, and I had a chuckle to myself about how intimidated I was all those decades ago. At age 61, I’m probably just getting to be as smart as I thought I was at age 27. (Marta is dubious.)

Monday was more tourism, and then an evening baseball game. But this would not be just any Royals game – they would be playing my beloved Detroit Tigers. The Tigers, per usual, were having a disappointing season but were on the mathematical fringes of the expanded playoffs.

Ramsey has home and away garb for almost MLB team.

Now that’s a cool t-shirt. If you’re too young to remember it, search it on YouTube. It’s truly one of the greatest meltdowns ever in any professional sport.

It didn’t help when KC jumped out to a four-run lead on a Bobby Witt grand slam. But I loudly kept my faith, and the Tigers chipped away at the lead until they finally went ahead in the 6th.

Parker Meadows bats for Detroit. When he was playing for Toledo last year, he hit a home run that is still the only batted ball I have ever gotten as a spectator in a professional park.

The Tigers held on to triumph 7-6, starting an unlikely winning tear that saw them slip into the playoffs and come a game away from the ALDS.

Marta made sure that we ended the trip at a soft-serve ice cream place, as it should.

We all headed home on Monday, already planning for next year’s Brew Crew tour, knowing that we would now need seven tickets instead of five. The Crew had two new members.

Steve