Stolen fish. Lead weights. Secret bass delivery networks.
The competitive fishing world has had its share of creative cheaters, and now a new scandal is consuming the circuit. After a dispute over the winning marlin in last month’s White Marlin Open in Maryland, 13 competitors are stuck in limbo, as the tournament still has not awarded its $2.8 million prize. Officials say the original victor, Philip Easley, caught his 76.5-pound winning fish before the tournament started. Easley maintains his innocence.
Though anglers are outraged, competitive fishing has a long history of cheating. The idea for the modern big-money derby—in which competitors buy into an event, fish in an area for a specific period of time, and award the pot to the biggest haul—came from an Alabama insurance salesman specifically aiming to clean up the sport. Ray Scott charged a $100 fee for the first All-American Invitational Bass Tournament in 1967, hoping it would only attract serious fishermen and leave frauds at home. “Cheating was almost synonymous with fishing [at the time],” Scott told Grantland in 2014.
To deter cheating today, tournaments administer post-catch polygraph tests to competitors. While the White Marlin Open’s pot is the largest disputed sum in the sport’s history, officials still frequently catch people submitting illegal fish. These are some of their stories.
Bogus Bass
In the early 1980s, Florida man Elro McNeil and three accomplices worked with at least six different anglers to scam fishing tournaments in Texas and Louisiana. McNeil would buy black bass in South Florida, deliver them in an aerated tank-rigged truck, and split the prize money with competitors. The group made more than $200,000 by 1984, when McNeil pleaded guilty to conspiracy to defraud and ended up spending five years in prison.
Weight A Minute
North Carolina’s John Hoyle finished third in the Walmart Bass Fishing League tournament on Lake Wylie, S.C., in 2012, but was disqualified after officials found an 11-ounce lead weight in one of his fish’s stomachs.
Crap Carp
In 2013, Kentucky hosted a tournament for commercial fishermen to attach the invasive Asian Carp disrupting the state’s lakes, offering $20,000 in prize money. Officials disqualified the winner, 63-year-old Ronny Hopkins, after realizing one of Hopkins’ biggest fish was stolen from the local aquarium where he used to work.
Tall Tail
At last year’s Sealy Big Bass Splash in Lake Fork, Texas, officials determined the winning fisherman doctored the winning fish by trimming its tail to fit under the tournament’s height limit. The angler was charged with a third-degree felony.
Father’s Day Fraud
Last summer in Vermont, 44-year-old Craig Provost collected over $13,000—including $3,000 from a “super bonus pool”—for the 10.26-pound walleye he submitted in the Lake Champlain International Father’s Day Fishing Derby. As it turns out, one of Provost’s boatmates, who didn’t enter the bonus pool, actually caught the fish. Provost’s ex-girlfriend turned them in. In July, Provost pled not guilty to felony fraud.
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.