At Outkast, we’ve got a theory. One that’s been quietly whispered at boat ramps and confirmed at every Thursday nighter. A pattern, if you will, among the most dangerous, unshakeable local hammers out there—the ones who roll up late, catch 20 lbs off community holes, and never say more than five words all night.
Here it is:
The most successful local hammers are divorced, smoke cigs, wear Crocs, and rock a sun-bleached visor.
Let us explain.
Divorced
This ain’t a dig—it’s a freedom multiplier.
No text check-ins. No “what time will you be home?”
Just time on the water and a chip on the shoulder. These guys aren’t trying to impress Instagram—they’re trying to settle something with themselves and the bass. Every missed fish is a metaphor. Every kicker caught is therapy. They’re not fishing for fun. They’re fishing because it’s all they’ve got.
Cigarettes
Forget electrolytes and pre-workout. These guys run on Marlboros and rage.
Ever seen a dude set the hook mid-drag on a cig? That’s a level of multitasking born from years of cold mornings, bad breaks, and zero excuses.
Smoke curling off the console, a Lucky lit under the bill of a visor, and a pile of green ones in the livewell. Call it unhealthy—we call it undefeated.
Crocs
No socks. No shame.
Crocs in Sport Mode mean business. Easy to kick off when a 5-pounder needs a net, and even easier to wear when you’ve completely stopped caring what anyone thinks. Bonus points if they’re camo or faded from years of sun. These dudes could outfish you barefoot and they know it.
Visors
A full hat is too much commitment. A visor is just enough to keep the glare off while still letting the world know:
“I’ve seen some things.”
Hairline be damned, the visor stays. It’s their version of a uniform. Golfers wear them to look casual. Local hammers wear them because they’re not afraid of a little sun or judgment.
Why It All Works
These guys don’t follow trends. They don’t post fish with filters. They don’t ask for waypoints—they give them just to watch you not catch a thing on ‘em.
They've poured their heartbreak, habits, and hard-earned confidence into one thing: catching fish.
And they usually do. In fact, they’re the ones who clean up at the weigh-in, cash the check, and leave before the post-tourney group photo. No high-fives. Just a slow roll out in a tin boat older than your first truck.
So What’s the Point?
If you ever roll up to a derby and see a guy lighting up a smoke, sliding into Crocs, visor tilted sideways, boat full of duct tape and determination…
You’re fishing for second.
At Outkast, we build tackle for guys like this. Not because they asked us to. Because they’re the ones who prove—over and over again—that it’s not about looking the part.
It’s about being the part.
Even if that part smells like Marlboros and lake funk.
Tight lines,
Outkast Tackle
“Still not available at Big Box. Still winning tournaments.”
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