Baseball and fishing are not uncommon bedfellows. In our family, they developed into our two sons’ varsity baseball journey (one as a pitcher, one a center fielder), and as a joint obsession with flyfishing. It’s no coincidence that they again converged during a stay in the Florida Keys, which is how I came to be standing on the casting deck of a skiff in the backcountry out of Islamorada, with legendary angler Stu Apte.
The wind had calmed, leaving only the plop of the push pole and a light slap of water against the hull. I held a Stu Apte signature 12-weight coupled with his signature reel, while our veteran guide, Steve Thomas, tirelessly searched for tarpon. Behind me, sitting on a cushioned cooler while scrutinizing my every move, was the record-holding International Game and Fish Association Hall of Famer himself, Mr. Apte.
“Grab the hook by the bend,” Apte instructed. “If you grab the leader you’ll crimp it—here, give me the rod.” I handed it to him—he rapidly stripped out some line. “When the tarpon appears,” said Apte, matter of factly, “just roll cast the line, take one back cast, and then double haul it seventy feet.” I felt as nervous as a minor leaguer facing Randy Johnson. When Thomas finally quit poling down a bank, I felt a mix of disappointment and relief that a poon never showed.
Apte’s long friendship with baseball legend Ted Williams precipitated my being on this skiff. Known in his storied career as “The Kid,” “The
