You get a line and I’ll get a drone, honey / You get a line and I’ll get an app, babe…” Or something like that.

I haven’t been fishing since 1972 (although my lunch has to share shelf space with bait worms in the company break room refrigerator), so I didn’t realize just how controversial the once-tranquil sport has become.

According to the Wall Street Journal (“News, analysis, fish-wrapping material — who could ask for anything more?”), tournament innovations such as Forward-Facing Sonar (which provides a large, high-resolution image of the elusive bass and bluegills) level the playing field and give even the most inexperienced anglers the ability to spot game fish.

(Hearing baby-faced newbies play out the “I spy with my little eye” routine does bring the word “overcorrecting” to mind, though.)

And scandalized traditionalists are practically putting the newfangled techniques in the same uncouth category as fishing with dynamite. (“Hmmm…one good stick of dynamite in the middle of Honeybunch’s book club would mean I wouldn’t have to spend so many Saturdays hiding on the lake in the first place.”) Other trendy affronts to The Way We Used To Do It include underwater cameras, chartplotters, electric trolling motors with GPS features and “smart” lures. (“Hmph! The ‘smart’ lures don’t even know how to wiggle across the sidewalk after it rains. And they call that progress!”) Grassroots anglers fear that modern participants have fallen hook, line and sinker for the Siren call of shortcuts and data-based optimization. In this new world, manual boat control skills, generational knowledge, intuition and trial- and-error exploration all have to take a back seat (and, adding insult to injury, aren’t even allowed to peek in the beer cooler in the back seat).

Fishing, they say, has lost its mystery (“How come Mensa hasn’t offered me membership yet? I notified them I outwitted a bottom feeder”) and magic.

But to put things into perspective, the AI chatbot I used for research pointed out that, historically, purists have even resisted basic innovations (outboard motors, depth finders, artificial lures) that are now mainstream. (“A hook made of steel? Are you too uppity for bronze, you whippersnapper? And why doesn’t this scale have a measurement for shekels?”) Hobbies evolve.

Tournaments have ostensibly Changed with the Times for the sake of attracting younger contestants to the sport. Truth be told, they could probably achieve the same results with fishing jackets that make flatulence sounds and steering wheels that randomly bop some poor loser in the groin. (“Dude, where’s my boat?”) Advocates of high-tech point out that spotting the fish is only part of the battle. Fishermen still need skill and endurance, and two out of three fish you pitch to ignore the lure. (Bassmaster scientists are working on that, though. If streaming Cheech & Chong movies underwater can’t give catfish the munchies, I don’t know what will.)

Some tournaments have grudgingly tried straddling the fence with compromises such as a limit of one transducer, smaller sonar screens, a limited number of hours for sonar use, letting the crappie keep a small amount of uranium as long as it’s not weapons-grade… Yeah, yeah. I hear you mumbling, “This week’s Tyree column is ‘the one I WISH got away.’” I won’t let such impudence ruin my lunch. Um…unless Chef Boyardee has patented spaghetti that wiggles, I think I’m about to be sick.

Danny is an MTSU graduate, a syndicated columnist and author of three books available through Amazon. Mailing address: 1801 Snake Creek Road, Belfast, TN 37019.