How Mike Iaconelli, a break-dancing suburbanite who isn't humble, isn't southern, and doesn't listen to country music, became the new face of professional bass fishing.
When you travel 6,500 miles to catch a maniacal fish in an unforgiving land, you have to be ready to play dirty.
Tuxedos with hand-warmer pockets, chewing tobacco that smells like a cycling doe, and numerous other signs that the guys in orange and camo are calling the shots.