Story by Brad Fuller | Photos by Tanner & Travis Lyons
Let me clear the air … and any confusion about the NPFL’s future and the role we see for ourselves.
I’ve heard the noise—the chatter about who’s coming into the NPFL, the whispers about “too many big names,” and the sideways comments from folks who think they’re owed something they didn’t earn. Some people love what we’re doing. Others … not so much.
That’s fine.
We’ve never been for everyone. And we’re not about to start pretending otherwise.
The truth is simple—we’re in one of the toughest industries out there. This isn’t a charity, it’s not a social club, and it sure isn’t a non-profit. The NPFL is a business—a living, breathing entity that requires resources, sponsors, and performance to survive. Growth isn’t a luxury; it’s oxygen. You either grow or you close the doors. There’s no middle ground.
We’re fighting against two massive organizations with decades of history and deep pockets. They’ve got armies of people and media behind them. We’ve got a lean crew of grinders who believe in the mission and wake up every day ready to prove that heart still matters. If you think competition on the water is tough, try walking in our shoes for a week.
That’s why when someone asks why we’re bringing in more established pros, the answer is easy: because it’s good for business, and it’s good for the League. These anglers bring visibility, credibility, and opportunity. They help us grow. And growth keeps this thing alive for every single person who believes in it.
Now, about this word “positivity.”
It’s funny how often that word gets tossed around—usually by the same folks who seem to forget what it actually means. They’ll preach sunshine while dragging others through the mud, talking about how they “support the sport” … as long as it benefits them.
Let me be clear—we don’t owe anyone a job, a spotlight, or a platform. We hire people who show up, do the work, and add real value. We don’t hire the ones who think proximity equals entitlement.
You start to realize you’re doing something right when people try to latch on to what you’ve built and twist it for their own personal gain. Those are the leeches of the fishing world. We’ve got no time for them and owe them nothing.
We’ll handle our own positivity—by living it, by actually doing the work, standing behind our people, and continuing to treat others with respect, even when that grace isn’t returned.
Now, let’s talk about opportunity.
We will always make room for the grassroots anglers—the ones chasing a dream, not a spotlight. Guys like Grant Vest, Dustin Reneau, Joshua Reynolds, Jimmy Ward, Travis Jewell, and Garrett Smith. You might not know their names yet, but I have a strong suspicion you’ll know one or two of them very well by the end of 2026.
Because that’s what the NPFL has always been—a league of opportunity.
Your entry fee gets you a seat at the table, a fair playing field, a safe environment, and the best logistics we can provide. You get to be part of the family. But what you do with that opportunity? That’s on you.
You want to prove something? Here are the rules. Here’s the playing field. Go get it.
But when you fall short, don’t turn around and blame the very entity that gave you the opportunity in the first place.
This league is built on accountability. You perform; you hang around. You catch them, and everything else falls into place.
So yeah, we’re changing. We’re evolving. We’re growing. We’re bringing in elite talent, building better partnerships, and sharpening every edge we have—all while keeping the door open for anyone willing to earn their way in.
And when I say elite talent, I’m not just talking about the names you already know—the guys who’ve proven themselves in other leagues. I’m talking about all our anglers. Mark my words: some of the names listed above will rise to the top. They’re too good, too talented, and too hungry not to win.
If that offends someone … well, so be it.
We’re unapologetically us.
Always have been. Always will be.
