The Community Classic
I owe the majority of my current fishing obsession to my college friends. Sure, I’d grown up fishing the banks of the Connecticut River for schoolie striped bass, shad and snapper blues, but fishing had never taken precedence over my other hobbies. Throughout high school, I was more interested in sailing and coaching as a part-time job in the summer, but I did occasionally still do a bit of fishing when the mood allowed for it.
Soon I found myself as a bright-eyed freshman moving into a dorm room at The University of Rhode Island. I regretfully did not bring my fishing rod, instead opting for a dry suit and PFD rated for collegiate sailing. I had managed to make contact with 2 of my 3 roommates prior to the big move, but I was unable to locate the 3rd due to his lack of social media presence and no phone number given on the enrollment website. I assumed that he was a no-show, and was pretty excited that I’d get a little extra room in the dorm room. Imagine my surprise when the illustrious Grady J. McCormick strolled through the door a few hours late, with a surfboard under one arm, a guitar under the other, and a pair of fishing poles carried some other way that isn’t important.
We were fast friends, and quickly bonded over our mutual hobbies. Along the way, we met a few like-minded individuals that shared our love of parties, music and fishing. Brendan Breen hailed from South Shore Mass, and grew up fishing on a tuna boat. Always the shrewd businessman, he’d later make a foray into the pearl business; culturing Quahog clams that would produce pearls with a color and sheen unlike any other. Christian Cerrone, the local dorm room bedroom guitarist, had hair down to his longboard, which he carried from class to class like an effigy to his pot-smoking sins. He’s now the frontman for a successful jam band in southern Rhode Island, to nobody’s surprise. Chase Pestrock was the quiet introvert of the group; hailing from rural Pennsylvania, he grew up targeting largemouth bass and whatever else that grows far too large in golf course ponds.
The Community Five, from the left: Chase Pestrock, Christian Cerrone, Grady McCormick, Myself, and Brendan Breen
Our sophomore year, we elected to move off-campus to a lovely 5-bedroom mcmansion on Community Drive in Matunuck, Rhode Island. I managed to swing a nice deal for it, since it was previously occupied by members of the URI sailing team (of which I was a part of, until the fishing became too much of a time-sink for me). The house was a 3 minute walk from the beach, and it took us no time at all to figure out that that beach held fish. Grady and I took a stroll down there one day and saw a huge school of adult pogies getting smashed against a rocky outcropping by a school of gator blues, and it was off to the races. The bluefishing in the fall was historic - I remember one particular day where I was unceremoniously awoken at 7am or so by Grady, who was dangling a 34in bluefish by the gills next to my bed. “Hey you’ve gotta filet this for me, I’ve gotta go to class”. I’d never fileted a fish before, but I obliged after some back and forth. I also bought my first real rod that year; a Penn battle II combo that served me quite well until it was unceremoniously stolen out of Grady’s truck bed at a beach in Narragansett. When springtime rolled around the schoolie action got really good in Matunuck, and we would hammer fish well into the night pretty much every night after school.
By junior year, it was clear that we’d honed our skills and were now fish-killing machines. We were back at the house, which we’d affectionately dubbed “Community”, after the street name, and were back to fishing in no time. That year, we decided to put together a friendly wager in the form of a fall fishing tournament by the name of the “Community Fall Classic”. The format was simple: each local fish was given a point value, based on several factors including their value as a sport fish, their ease/difficulty of catch, and their esteem. We all met up to finalize these point values and I tracked them in a spreadsheet. The person to catch the largest fish was awarded the full point total, and the person with the second largest was awarded half of the point total.
Each member of the posse had their own strategy. Chase was most interested in going for the less-prestigious records; the sea robins and scup were worth precious little, but he hoped that they were numerous enough and that the rest of the group would direct their attention elsewhere. Grady and Christian were in the mindset of knocking off the heavy hitters, and frequently traded blows over striper, bluefish and the fabled false albacore. Breen and I took a more leveled approach, mixing both strategies. I briefly held the striped bass record with a 34 inch fish, caught in Potter’s Pond, only to be overtaken by Grady with a 36 incher caught in a storm off of the East Wall in Narragansett. Christian ended up on top with a whopping 39 incher, taken by boat in Misquamicut pond. The albie record was also hot that year, and Grady came out on top with a 31 incher. He swears to this day that he caught nearly a hundred albies that year in pursuit of the record.
When all was said and done, Grady ended up on top, with Christian just behind him. Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to locate the original document where I recorded the tallies, so the full results remain shrouded in mystery. Since we can only speculate and nobody can corroborate with evidence, I believe I recall that I was just barely beaten out of 2nd place, with Chase and Breen trailing distantly behind me. I guess we’ll never know for sure.
Perhaps reminiscing in this blog entry has affected my judgement, but I do genuinely cherish the memories we made fishing in college, and I’ve instilled in myself a strong drive to to relive those memories. Today, I am declaring that I will seek to revive the Community Classic. I will delve into dark tombs to recover the ancient texts. I’ll travel to the far reaches of known civilization to track down the fabled Community Five. Finally, I’ll do everything in my power to relight their flames of ambition and coerce them into competing in another Community Fall Classic, as we once did so many years ago. Also, Grady says Declan wants to participate this time, so I guess we need to include him because he’s the little brother. I hope you’ll follow along on this journey with me.
-Max
