BY CHAD GIERLICH
SAN DIEGO – One last time with my buddy, my brother, Tom Troop.
Tom was many things to many people: a long-time Hookup Baits ambassador, a tournament team member, an incredible father, my fishing protégé, and most of all, a true friend. He was the kind of guy whose passion for fishing and for life spilled over onto everyone around him.
Then, suddenly, everything changed.
Tom was diagnosed with a brain tumor. It came fast and aggressively. Surgery removed about 80% of it, but it quickly started growing back, affecting his speech and the way his brain functioned. Chemo and radiation were needed immediately.
A week before treatment was set to begin, I texted him.
“Hey brother, you up for a day on the water before everything starts?”
In true Tom fashion, his reply came quickly:
“I thought you’d never ask. Absolutely!”
I reached out to Jojo and a few team members—Frank and Dale—to see if they could make it. My boat fishes five best, and without hesitation, they all said yes. The boat was ready, the tackle prepped, and everything was set.
Sunday, February 15
Jojo showed up like she always does— with enough food for a few days of fishing. Frank brought his usual dozen donuts, Dale picked up Tom at 7 a.m., and we all met at the shop before piling into my truck. By 8 o’clock we were launched, and soon after we met up with Jared and Cash Brecht in their new boat, inspired by Tom himself. They stayed with us the entire day.
Our first stop was a rock just outside the mouth of San Diego Bay, a spot that always seems to hold bass. Tom’s Hookup Baits A-rig was the first line in the water—and the first to get bit. He landed a double sand bass, and Dale doubled up right alongside him. We were off to a great start.
Tom wasn’t talking much. Putting sentences together was hard for him. But you didn’t need words—the look on his face said everything. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
After a few more bass, I asked him, “You up for running to the pipe?” A 12-mile run down the coast.
He smiled and answered, “Send it.”
So we did—Cash and Jared cruising right next to us the whole way. Tom was stoked to see that. At the pipe, we picked away at bass and rockfish. The bite was slow, but none of that mattered. Tom kept smiling and saying, “This is good.”
He ate one of Jojo’s special sandwiches, some fried chicken, a donut, homemade cookies, candy, two Gatorades, and a bottle of water. He was hungry. He was living.
After a while, Tom laid down on the back seat of the boat and fell asleep in the sun. Completely relaxed. Snoring sometimes while we kept fishing. Every now and then, we’d hear him say, “It’s good.”
At one point, thinking he was asleep, I said, “In all the years I’ve fished with Tom, I’ve never seen him sleep on the boat like this.”
A big smile spread across his face. He raised a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shhhh.”
Tom woke up about an hour later, and we ran back toward Point Loma to try a few more spots. I wanted him to get one more bite. I positioned the boat over a shallow wreck that almost always produces and told Tom where to cast.
He struggled a bit, which concerned me. After a few tries, he got it there and hooked up.
The fish turned out to be an extra-large jacksmelt.
We didn’t know it then, but that was the last fish our buddy would ever catch.
The winter wind started to blow, and we headed in. While loading the boat, Tom mentioned he was cold, so I put him in the passenger seat and cranked up the seat heaters. That drive home might have been the best part of the day. I’ve never seen him so calm, so comfortable, so at peace. The entire drive he kept saying, “This is good. This is really good.”
Back at the shop, before cleaning up, we presented Tom with a gift our friend Todd had made. Tom was incredibly thankful and even read Jojo’s card perfectly. We took a picture together. We didn’t know it would be the last one.
When it was time to wash and put away the boat, we told Tom to stay in the truck and enjoy the heat. But in true Tom fashion, he insisted on helping. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
As we hugged and said goodbye, I shook his hand and told him, “I need you to be the tough, no-give-up guy you are. Beat this thing so we can fish again.”
He looked at me, no words, just a look.
He knew.
Later that night, our buddy, our brother, our family member Tom passed peacefully. No pain. No suffering.
Tom will be deeply missed by the Hookup Baits family and the entire Southern California fishing community. His love for life, his passion for fishing with his son and friends, and his ability to share that stoke with everyone he met was something special.
We can all learn from him. We can all try to be more like Tom.
Rest in peace, my brother-Tom Troop.
It’s Good!
