CITGO Bassmaster Classic 2004

Takahiro Wins 2004 CITGO Bassmaster Classic

For the past 20 years, Takahiro Omori has had the same dream countless times. As soon as his head hits the pillow, the roar of a crowd beginsc As he drifts off to sleep, he sees bass boats being towed into a coliseum, one by one...
In each boat is a famous American professional angler. As each boat enters the coliseum, the crowd grows wild with anticipation. Omori sees himself as one of the professional anglers sitting in line, waiting to enter what appears to be bass fishing's biggest show.
His emotions vacillate between excitement and frustration. He has a good limit of bass, but the tournament officials keep moving him to the back of the line.

Suddenly he realizes why he is being shuffled back - the BASS staff is doing what it has done for years - staging the CITGO Bassmaster Classic final day weigh-in to be a dramatic shootout among the final contenders.

From there the dream's details get lost in an intoxicating tide of swirling emotions, but it always ends the same way-with him thrusting the CITGO Bassmaster Classic trophy above his head amid roaring crowds and a blitz of camera flashes.

It's a dream that sprouted in Omori's subconscious in 1985 when he was a teenager living in Japan. He would flip through American and Japanese fishing magazines idolizing Rick Clunn, Larry Nixon and Denny Brauer for their ability to make a living bass fishing.

It's a dream that lured him over to America with no promise of shelter or money. It's a dream that served as his only friend during numerous lonely nights sleeping in the back of a truck in campgrounds across America. It's a dream that became a reality on August 1, 2004, when Takahiro Omori won the CITGO Bassmaster Classic on Lake Wylie in North Carolina and forever became the first Japanese pro to win professional bass fishing's most prestigious title. Except it did not happen exactly as Omori had seen so many times in his late-night visions.

"It was a total surprise to me to win," he said shortly after his victory. "Going into this Classic, I did not feel like I would win it - it just happened."
"I thought Dean [Rojas] was going to win," he continued. "I figured he had a big limit. It was not until he weighed-in I knew I had won, and even then I still could not believe it."

If he did not believe it then, he sure believed it seven days later when his sleep had become a rare commodity. Besieged by photographers, reporters, sponsors and friends, Omori had been up each night past midnight doing interviews, slowly digesting the fact he was now a Classic title holder.

"I've never been so tired in my whole life," he said while practicing for another tournament the week after his Classic victory. "Today, I had to pull my boat up on the bank and take a nap because I was so tired."

Winning the CITGO Bassmaster Classic entails beating extremely long odds, but coming from another country to try to win the Classic com-pounds those odds exponentially.
The struggles and sacrifices Omori made early on just to exist in America makes his Classic win a testament to the intense desire and relentless dedication a single dream can inspire.

"When I first saw those magazines, I knew there was nothing else for me," he said. "I was born to be a professional bass angler in America."

His climb to the top of the American bass fishing world began right after high school by waiting tables in Japan and saving every penny to invest in his dreams. Naturally, his parents and friends saw his American fishing ambitions not just as crazy dreams, but as mere fantasies.

"My parents didn't have much to say about my dream to move to America to bass fish for a living," he paused and added, "Or maybe I just didn't hear what they had to say about it - everyone thought I was crazy.

"In America, I hear some say the words, 'young, dumb and stupid,' like there is something wrong with that," Omori beamed with his ubiquitous grin. "I don't think there is anything wrong with, young, dumb and stupid - look how I turned out.

Omori set foot on American soil for the first time in 1992 when he was just 21 years old
to sample a couple BASS Invitationals, one on Lake Rayburn in Texas and the other on
Lake Guntersville in Alabama. Those two tournaments were everything he imagined them to be, and they fueled his desire to the point where he viewed major obstacles as minor inconveniences.

"In America, I had no house, no money, no family, no friends, no communication, but I didn't care, I just wanted to fish." he emphasized. When he returned to his homeland after his first American experience, Omori went to Popeye's, a Ranger boat dealer in Japan, and pleaded with them for a sponsorship to fish a full season in America.

Popeye's was already sponsoring Masaki Shimono, Japan's version of Roland Martin, on the BASS circuit during the '93-'94 season. But Shimono wanted to fly back to Japan between tournaments and they had nowhere to keep Shimono's boat and truck.

Omori's persistence provided a solution: he, in essence, volunteered to be Shimono's bassing chauffeur in America. Omori got his wish. He was sent to America in the fall of 1993 to be responsible for shuttling Shimono from airports to BASS events and back throughout the entire BASS season.

As part of the deal, Omori was allowed to fish the tournaments as a non-boater. In between tournaments, Omori would stay in the U.S. and use the boat to scout lakes for Shimono's future tournaments.

For the next two years, a 1985 Chevy Suburban (Shimono's truck) with 200,000 plus miles on the odometer was Omori's only home.

"We put three engines in that truck," he recalled. "It broke down all the time. As soon as I got one thing fixed, something else would break." His only company was a TV/VCR combo and a box full of VCR tapes loaded with hours of vintage Bassmaster television shows.

"When I camped in a campground with electricity, I watched them over and over to learn bass fishing in America," Omori said. "It helped me learn English, too." What sounds like a vagrant lifestyle to most Americans was heaven on earth to Omori.

"I would get lost, stranded, hungry and have no money, but I didn't care," he said. "I was grateful just to be living in America, fishing the tournaments."

Omori's resilience stems from an innate exuberance that never erodes. For him there are no bad experiences, only challenges and opportunities.

"I don't see a mistake as bad, I see it as good - it's a chance to learn something new. That's why I love fishing so much. Every day is a challenge; everyday I learn something new.

"Back then, winning a tournament did not mean success to me," Omori continued. "Just being in the U.S. and fishing professional tournaments was a success to me. I did not want to go back to Japan and work, so everyday I was on a lake in America was a great day for me."

In 1996, Omori got his first taste of the American standard for success when he won a BASS Invitational on Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. The win helped stabilize Omori's wayward fishing career in America.

For the next several years, Omori continued to ramble across the U.S. chasing his dream. Eventually more tournament winnings and sponsorship dollars rolled in, but even then, he remained resourceful and frugal.

"When I won my first Ranger Boat, I gave it to Popeye's in Japan to show how much I appreciated their help in the beginning," he said.

He used his other winnings to purchase a conversion van, apply for a permanent U.S. visa and enroll in English courses at Texas Wesleyan University. In 2000, after eight years of living in campgrounds and the occasional rented trailer, Omori finally bought his own house in Emory, Texas. His fishing career kicked into high gear in March of 2001 when he won back-to-back national tournaments: a BASS Open on Lake Sam Rayburn in Texas and a $100,000 win at an outside sanctioned tournament on Lake Martin in Alabama.

In the first six months of 2001, Omori won nearly $225,000. And just when it looked
as if 15 years of struggle and sacrifice were going to pay off, the highest high of Omori's fishing career gave way to the lowest low of his life.

Omori's omnipotent optimism crumbled before him in the summer of 2001 when two catastrophic events rocked his world leaving him in a state of despair.

The first was the unexpected death of his father.

"He had just come to America to see me fish the New Orleans Classic," Omori lamented. "He returned to Japan and died three days later. It was the only time he ever saw me in a tournament."

Several weeks later came the tragedy that shocked all Americans: the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon.

Even though Omori knew none of the victims, in some way he felt the pain of everybody who lost a loved one.

"Since my dad had just died, I knew that pain," he said. "When I saw those buildings fall, all I could think about was all the families who were going to experience that same pain - all for no reason. It was too much for me."

For the next six months, Omori fell into a depression. He lost his appetite and could not sleep. But more troubling to him was for the first time in his life, he lost his passion for fishing.

"Those things [father's death and 9/11] made me realize there are bigger things in this world than bass fishing," he revealed. "I couldn't focus on the water because I was thinking about these other things. I would go to tournaments, but I was just going through the motions."

From August of 2001 to February of 2002, Omori failed to cash a single check in BASS events and his finishes averaged in the hundreds.

"It was a terrible time in my life and it took a while toc" he paused, fishing for the right words, "find myself on the water again."

Indeed, Omori did find himself on the water again and in 2003, he won the CITGO Horizon Award - BASS's version of the most improved angler over the previous season.

In 2004, Omori fished the BASS Tour and another series to score a check in every Tour level event he fished. That momentum paved the way for his historical Classic victory in North Carolina in August.

As the reigning Classic champ, Omori does not think his life will be any different.

"Just because I won the Classic does not mean I'm going to change my fishing," he said. "Next year I want to fish everything: BASS Tour, E-50 and the FLW Tour."

So is there anything else on the horizon for this Japanese-born Classic champion other than bass fishing?

Interestingly enough, maybe so. "I have thought about going to a university to study something else," he offered. "Maybe Marine Biology - what do you think?"

Let's just hope he does not start having dreams about swimming with sharks in Australia...

Clunn Remembers Takahiro

Visit legendary four-time CITGO Bassmaster Classic champion Rick Clunn and newly crowned Classic winner Takahiro Omori share a unique teacher-student relationship reminiscent of ancient eastern tradition.

"Takahiro is the ultimate pupil," Clunn commented. "He doesn't let his ego get in the way of learning and that's what I admire about him. He readily admits he doesn't know it all."

In the fall of 2002, Clunn held a specialized nature awareness and angling school at his home in the Ozark Mountains in Missouri. Omori was one of the first to sign up - and last to leave.

After the week long class was over and the other students had left, Omori stuck around for a personal tour of Clunn's tackle room.

"After he was done looking at my tackle, he asked if he could see my Classic trophies," Clunn recalled. "I took him up to the main house where I keep them. He then asked if he could hold one. I figured he wanted to see how much it weighed, so I told him to go ahead."

What happened next caught Clunn off guard.

"Suddenly it was like I wasn't even in the room," Clunn recounted. "He hoisted the trophy up over his head and pretended he had just won the CITGO Bassmaster Classic. This went on for nearly a minute; it was a powerful moment." When Omori put the trophy down, Clunn asked him how it felt.

"I must know what it feels like," the Japanese protege replied. "How many other anglers would do that?" Clunn pointed out. "Hold up someone else's world championship trophy to envision themselves in that moment - they wouldn't because they would be too embarrassed. Takahiro is not hindered by his own ego and that's what makes him a great student of the sport."

In August, when Clunn watched Omori's Classic dream manifest into reality, it sent chills down his spine.

"I couldn't help but get emotional about it," Clunn revealed. "I was really proud of him. The bar is constantly being raised in this sport and I think Takahiro represents a new model for the aspiring bass pro. His whole life is designed around becoming a better angler and he's an example of the kind of dedication it takes to succeed in this sport these days."

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