THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 3, 1996 TAG: 9611010226
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 32 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: THE SPORTS EDITOR'S COLUMN
SOURCE: Lee Tolliver
LENGTH: 107 lines
Mistakes sometimes bring out the best in people. A recent one in The Beacon sure did.
In Sunday's cover story on the opening of striped bass fishing season in Virginia waters, a picture of a small gray trout was labeled as a striper.
It's amazing the interest generated by one little fish . . . one little MIS-IDENTIFIED fish.
The mistake happened when photographer David Hollingsworth was asked to send in a close-up of a striper to round out the package.
There was considerable discussion between Hollingsworth and Beach editor Kevin Armstrong about whether or not the fish was a striper.
I was nowhere to be found to help with the identification and the decision was made to go with the art.
Hey, it's happened to all of us at one time or another. Hollingsworth is the consummate professional and it was just his turn.
And while such errors in the paper are often brought to our attention, I doubt seriously if any have drummed up the interest this one little gray trout has by being called a striper.
It's good to know there are so many readers out there.
But it wasn't good to open the paper Sunday morning and see the error.
I knew what Monday would be like. Well, I thought I did.
Everyone from close friends to casual acquaintances, to people I don't know from Adam have called.
Most of it has been cutting humor, but some as been pretty harsh.
Close friends know - from knowing me - how the paper works. I write the story and send it to an editor. The photographer takes the pictures and writes captions for them and sends them to the same editor. That person lays out the pages and writes headlines and sends the whole thing off to the press.
But you know who takes most, if not all, the flack when something is wrong with any aspect of the package.
It comes with the territory.
But try to explain that to someone who doesn't understand the process, and it sounds like a bold-faced cop out.
The harsh comments, I believe, have come from some of the anglers I ripped in the story. A large portion of the package dealt with the fact that there are lots of anglers who have no idea what they are doing. And many don't know how to take part in the action surrounding them - instead doing whatever they want at the expense of others' sanity and, sometimes, safety.
These folks were graphically described in the piece.
But one such caller really showed himself.
``You call yourself a striper fisherman?'' he shot when I answered the phone. ``You don't even know the difference between a speckled trout and a striper.''
``Excuse me,'' I asked. ``You heard me,'' he quipped.
At which time I quickly shot back: ``Well, you have no business calling me, because you don't know the difference between a speckled trout and a gray trout. That picture was a gray, not a speckled.''
``Oh,'' was his response, and the next thing I heard was CLICK!
That call left me desperately hoping that calls like that weren't what I was going to be dealing with all day.
And thank the good Lord it wasn't.
From the fax machine I was handed a couple of interesting items.
One came from a local developer's company in which a line from the story was circled with an arrow pointing to the fish. The circled portion read: ``For starters, a lot of people don't have a clue what they're doing.''
The faxer then wrote: ``Speaking of people who don't have a clue. If this is a rockfish, I'm Abraham Lincoln.''
Well, whoever you are, don't fret. It's safe for you to go to the Ford Theater. That isn't a rockfish and you aren't old Abe.
But the fax to end all faxes came later in the day when an eight-pager arrived.
``Rockfish Identification Made Easy. Sponsored by Virginia Beach Beacon Sports Editor Lee Tolliver. A guide for 90-percent of the fishermen who catch 10 percent of the fish.''
On the following seven pages were sketches of fish. The author had traced the picture in the paper and had drawn different markings on the fish.
It was the best-thought-out, funniest comeback to a published mistake I've seen in 20-plus years in the business.
A masterpiece of wit.
There were 14 fish, starting with a real rockfish. Then there was the spotted bass, the drum bass and speckled bass. It got funnier. The ringtail bass with a raccoon's tail and the croaking bass complete with captioned ``croak.''
Next was the tartan bass and the white marlin bass, the blue marlin bass and the ballyhoo bass. Better yet was the - and my favorite - blues bass complete with sun glasses and a cigarette. The snook and barracuda bass were funny, but not as much as the flounder, or cross-eyed, bass.
Funny, funny stuff.
It was sent to me by Scott Lowery, one of the anglers in the story. But it had been sent to him by Pete Peters of Norfolk Marine, a friend of Lowery's and one of the many people who had been giving Lowery apparently just as much grief as I had been getting.
``A game warden sent me a ticket for illegal mis-identification of a species and somebody said they're going to send me Dr. (Jim) Wright's video on how to catch stripers,'' Lowery said. ``All day Sunday people were telling me what a nice article it was. But then everybody who knows about fishing started calling and abusing me . . . bad.
``I can't go into a tackle shop and I wouldn't advise you to, either.''
The following day, Dr. Wright called to offer to take me fishing and I told him to go ahead and dish out his best shot.
He didn't, telling me he was sure I had taken enough abuse.
But I accepted the trip, as I most often do when he calls. I love fishing with the good doctor and his friends.
But I'm wondering what will be in store for me that morning on the water. I can only be sure that it will be interesting and humorous.
And it will have to do with that one little gray striper, er . . . trout. by CNB