‘We’ve got weights in fish!’ sounds alarm in a cheating scandal that rocks the sport
The grand reveal got ugly a week ago Friday in Ohio, where two walleye fishermen seemingly were on their way to being crowned champions of the Lake Erie Walleye Trail. When the dust settled after a cheating scandal that has rocked the competitive fishing world, they were nothing more than chumpions.
Jake Runyan of Cleveland and Chase Cominsky of Hermitage, Pennsylvania, were disqualified from the last regular-season LEWT tournament of the year by tournament director Jason Fischer. They needed to beat 16.89 pounds to claim Team of the Year honors and $30,000 in various prizes.
Their five-fish limit weighed 33.91 pounds, twice the weight of the second-place team of Steve Tyszko and Chris French. Suspicions after Runyan and Cominsky’s 4- to 5-pound class walleye weighed 7.90 pounds on the digital scale prompted Fischer to cut open the fish’s belly. Imbedded in it was a heavy lead weight.
The crowd of walleye fishermen around the weigh-in stage erupted in anger that mushroomed as surely as if a bomb hit the waterfront site.
Ground Zero was Gordon Park on the edge of Lake Erie in Cleveland Harbor. Judging from live videos that have been replayed a zillion times, the moment of impact happened when Fischer raised his voice above the buzz of the crowd and said, “We’ve got weights in fish!”
Then Fischer yelled, pumped his fist at Runyan, used an expletive he apologized for later, and said, “Everybody listen to me right now. Jake, I want you to leave. I don’t want anybody to touch these guys.”
However, Runyan, 41, stayed and watched, as if in a trance, as Fischer cut open the other four walleye to reveal more heavy egg sinkers. Cominsky, 35, reportedly hurried to his pickup truck and locked the doors.
Thirty two-person teams competed in the tournament. The other fishermen shouted insults and expletives during the discovery process.
A video of the raucous scene that unfolded attracted 7.7 million views and more than 400,000 likes on TikTok. The cheating scandal has blackened both eyes of the competitive fishing scene.
Cuyahoga County, Ohio, Prosecutor Michael O’Malley is investigating an “attempted felony theft.” His staff has been meeting with the Ohio Department of Natural Resources.
It’s safe to say the suspects got cocky after “winning” three consecutive LEWT tournaments. Those “wins” have been questioned after Sept. 30.
Runyan was interviewed recently by John Stewart of Cleveland, another walleye fisherman who has an online fishing show. Asked about their incredible streak before the last event in Cleveland, Runyan said, “We’ve won three LEWT tournaments in a row – Lorain, Ashtabula and Geneva. I don’t want to sound arrogant or cocky but I am confident that we should do well in this championship also because that’s just what we do, Winners win.”
According to Cleveland.com, Cominsky and Runyan have “won” more than $306,000 during their streak in Ohio area fishing tournaments.
Cheating in fishing contests, no matter how it’s done, is stealing.
And it’s more than that. What cheaters do is violate trust, the trust among competitive anglers. Such illicit actions are an affront to the camaraderie we feel as fellow anglers, even when we’re fishing against each other.
History has proven that no sport or endeavor is immune to cheating. People have tried to gain an edge, an illegal advantage, in life or in competition forever.
Game shows. Tests at medical universities, military academies. College admissions.
As of late, there have been cheating scandals in chess and professional poker that rocked sensibilities and wrecked the concept of fair play.
Jockeys have been caught red-handed with electric prods to goad their horse across a finish line. Or they have held back their horse on purpose.
Baseball players at bat have listened to someone beating on a trash can to get tipped on the pitcher’s next offering. Pitchers have doctored baseballs for decades.
Notoriously, a local fisherman reeled in a sizeable redfish last August and found a cord cutting into its flesh via a neatly knotted noose, undoubtedly previously caught and staked out to be used in one of the “slot” tournaments that have become popular in and around Cypremort Point. The story was published Sept. 5, 2021, in The Daily Iberian.
There have been baskets of different shapes and sizes found in the water around cypress trees and elsewhere in area waters that could keep bass alive to be used in any number of bass tournaments. A cage or basket containing large, live bass was found eight years ago in Lake Fausse’s Sandy Cove the week before the Children’s Hospital Bass Classic out of Doiron’s Landing, Stephensville, and that really turned my stomach. The story was published March 9, 2014.
A bass tournament cheating scandal resulted in charges against two Morgan City bass anglers Aug. 23, 2020, after a Fishers of Men South Louisiana Trail tournament out of Doiron’s Landing. They were accused of fishing off-limits water on the way to “winning” $5,562.50. The story was published Sept. 6, 2020, in The Daily Iberian.
I hope the disqualified walleye anglers, if found guilty, are punished to the full extent of the law in Ohio.
Fischer, the tournament director, looked like he had been run through a wringer and still heart-broken two days after the tournament but was man enough to appear last Sunday on Bigwater Fishing, a podcast by veteran walleye fisherman and host, Capt. Ross Robertson. The other guest was Lake Erie Slam director Craig Lewis.
It’s worth watching the podcast at /www.youtube.com/watch?
v=Jk4Q4TwKhLY. Robertson doesn’t toss any softballs at the two men.
Their sport, our sport of tournament fishing, is under fire and they responded to his questions in a manner that bolstered the outlook. The event weighed heavy on them, particularly Fischer.
On the plus side, Steve Tyszko and Chris French were declared tournament winners. Team of the Year honors went to Steve Hendricks and Brian Ulmer.
It isn’t a stretch to say 99 percent of competitive fishermen are honest. But as in other sports and other endeavors, there’s always the tiniest fraction of people who try to cut corners.
This is a lesson learned the hard way. Cheating doesn’t pay.
DON SHOOPMAN is outdoors editor of The Daily Iberian.