Championship Bass

"Not a mound of excitement, but vaguely quaint in a sort of luke-warm cocoa way."

10:30 AM
Perched atop a little speedboat, dressed in jeans, what appears to be a gold shirt, a fetching blue denim gillet and a jaunty denim cap. This Captain o' Denim has been entered in a fishing contest. He, under the guidance of yours truly, must catch more bass the other contestants - computerized contestants, which strangely aren't evident on the pond. With this achieved, further H2O arenas may be accessed. With a no more than a flick of the X button, the line is cast and the excitement of raw fishing begins.

10:33 AM
Choosing to ignore the underwater camera option, I opt for purist fishing. With no knowledge of what lies beneath the surface, it's a case of casting one's lure to an area which, by virtue of murky areas or reeds, suggests itself as a hiding place for bass. The lure hits the water, sinks and the wait begins.

10:56 AM
After almost half an hour of casting into the depths, dragging the lure back and casting again, without so much as a tickle, my sandwich box is breached and mindless fidgeting has begun. The underwater camera is grudgingly resorted to.

11:01 AM
I engage the speedboat and with the underwater camera giving a reasonable, if murky, view of what is going on beneath, the hunt for aquatic quarry begins once more.
Moving the boat is a rudimentary affair. It constantly seems to bump into stuff that's not actually making contact with its hull. It dawdles along and it soon becomes apparent that in order to find fish, one must carefully sweep the body of water, foot by foot, until something to snare is sighted. This all under the soothing sounds of plinky country music which explodes into rock when you have a fish on. Which is OK if you like rock. And country.

11:15 AM
Sweet Christ, A FISH! My first sighting brings an end to the erratic nibbling of Trios and slurping of Lilt. There's a fish. It's under the boat. It's a fish, it's under the boat and it's begging to be caught. I regain composure and backtrack slightly in the boat to avoid scaring the blighter. The lure is artfully tossed, some 70 feet, within inches of its popping jaw and then dragged, slowly, slowly, in front of its goggle eyes. It does nothing. I resort to tweaking the lure with the L1 button, an action which is designed to convince the bass that your lure is a tasty thing for the eating. The bass sidles towards the lure, then turns on its are and flits elsewhere. I begin searching the options menu for a shotgun.

2:04 PM
After much hair pulling, cups of coffee and squatting in silence, begging for a nibble, I've mastered the art. Boating about looking for fish, then dropping your line and waggling it about forms the crux of the game.
Get one on the line and whack the triangle button to strike. What follows is you reeling in, letting out line and following the beast to the left and right until it tires and you can bag it. This ichthyoid intimidation takes place over a season-long Career mode, a one day event, a beat the clock affair and a fishing trip (simply a leisurely day's sport). Tackle can be altered, as can weather, water temperature and the like.

3:45 PM
My 'live well' is full. A huge 18-pounder forms the centerpiece of the collection and while a general sense of tedium mounts, it's counterbalanced by a vague sensation of triumph. The visuals are nothing to shout about - fish and water are not exciting to look at in general, let alone a video game - but one can have some pleasure from taking on Mother Nature armed only with a long stick and some string. At least playing this you can smoke, drink beer and eat snacks in the warm. Fresh air's overrated anyway.

An oddity. If you really, really like fishing you may play this for months. You'd be deeply sad and rather strange to do so though

Reviewer's Score: 5/10, Originally Posted: 10/30/02, Updated 11/29/02