Jake Runyan knows where to go to buy fishing tackle.
He knows where to go to get his boat repaired. He also knows where to go to find trophy-class Lake Erie walleye.
He's just not sure where he needs to go to get his reputation back.
Runyan, an angler from Cleveland who had been leading the lucrative Lake Erie Fall Brawl walleye tournament, recently saw his name disappear from the top of the standings well after the competition had closed on Nov. 28.
He didn't fall into second place due to someone else catching a larger fish in the eleventh hour of the event. Runyan and his 12.770-pound fish were just gone. On the Fall Brawl website, there was no bold-type note saying a disqualification had taken place, no explanation, and no asterisk referring to a clarification.
Nothing.
Runyan and his big walleye vaporized and in the information desert created by the lack of any transparency that has plagued the Brawl results over the past decade, the hyperactive rumor mill and the message boards became the judge, jury, and executioner. And in the process, Runyan got splayed and filleted in the public square as innuendo and dubious fish stories quickly filled the void.
He vehemently denies that anything was done outside the Brawl's extensive rules package, saying he has watched his name, his character, and his stature as a competitive walleye fisherman dragged through the detritus. But like he did when that behemoth of a walleye smacked his lure in the late November chill, Runyan intends to fight. He has retained legal counsel.
Mandatory polygraphs
As has been customary in the Brawl, where about $500,000 in cash and prizes was on the line this year, the big winners must take a polygraph test once the tournament ends, ostensibly to make sure all of the rules have been followed. Runyan said he took the Brawl polygraph Dec. 1 and his fishing partner Chase Cominsky from Pennsylvania also was polygraphed a day or so later.
About five more days passed before Runyan received a call from Brawl organizer Frank Murphy, telling him that one of them had failed the exam.
“He said things were about to get stressful for me, but there was no explanation — nothing,” Runyan said. “There is something going on with the Brawl, and it's not right. We did everything by the book.”
Ronald Masal and his 12.665-pound walleye moved into the top spot in the Brawl, and then, as they say in any good murder mystery or whodunit, the plot thickened.
Runyan and Cominsky had also entered in the Walleye Slam, a second big-payout tournament that ran at the same time as the Brawl on Oct. 15 through Nov. 28. With the modest entry fees — $35 for the Slam and $30 for the Brawl — many anglers entered both tournaments. The Slam drew 7,355 entries in its first year, while the decade-old Brawl had 10,574 anglers entered.
The Walleye Slam follows a similar post-tournament protocol, with the winners of the cash and top prizes sitting down for a polygraph to make certain they fished inside the rules. Runyan and Cominsky took the Slam test in Toledo on Tuesday, with the polygraph administered by a professional who has been doing this for 40 years, Runyan said.
“He showed us the report — it was literally flat lines. In his professional opinion, he didn't see anything that was out of order,” Runyan said. “But we were not surprised; we knew we would pass. We are going to move forward with legal challenges with the Brawl. My name has been dragged through the mud for too long already.”
Chasing cash
There is a lot on the line in these fall walleye tournaments, hence the huge interest and thousands of entries. Combined, the Brawl and the Slam put up an estimated $800,000 in prizes and cash.
The winner of this year's Fall Brawl was promised a fully-rigged $125,000 Ranger boat, with additional cash bonuses likely. The winner of the National Fishing Expos Walleye Slam would receive a clear title to a new Warrior boat worth $151,67. The cash continued to cascade down through the top five places in the Brawl, and the top 10 positions in the Slam.
When Runyan weighed in his Lake Erie walleye Nov. 23, he first went to the Fall Brawl official weigh-in site at the Cabela's store in Avon, a suburb to the west of Cleveland, since it was the closest. The fish pushed the digital scale to 12.770 pounds.
Since he had entered both events, Runyan then moved on to Erie Outfitters, a bait and tackle shop in nearby Sheffield Lake that served as the weigh-in site for the Walleye Slam. His fish weighed 12.79 on the Slam scale.
Second place in the Brawl earned a $115,000 Ranger, with cash payouts of $65,000 for third place, $55,000 for fourth, and $45,000 for finishing fifth. The top five prizes in the Brawl were valued at more than $405,000. The Slam pays out to the top 10 finishers, with $50,000 for second place, $25,000 for third, and down to $5,000 for the 10th place finisher.
Since he was entered in both tournaments, Runyan expected to land more than $300,000 in cash and prizes, which he would split with Cominsky since the duo had agreed to fish as a team and share the cost of fuel, boat insurance, and entry fees, and also divide any winnings evenly. Runyon said they also planned to designate a portion of their winnings to buy a couple of hundred fishing rods to donate to kids' fishing programs.
Prominent snags
Since it ballooned from a fun fishing wager for a few friends 11 years ago into this cash-obese monolith where a regular Joe fishing Lake Erie in a 14-foot aluminum boat could win a six-figure check, the Brawl has been haunted with mystifying disqualifications, cryptic last-minute developments, and suspicions of skulduggery.
If privacy is a concern, that has never been offered as a reason for the Brawl's tighter-lipped posture.
In 2019, the angler whose fish was shown in first place for nearly a month on the official Fall Brawl website — a supposed 12.690-pounder that measured 28.5 inches — did not take home the big stack of Benjamins. He was purged from the standings, with no explanation. Another one of the fish listed in the top five also disappeared that year when the final, official standings were released. No explanation was offered.
Last year, on the final full day of competition in the Brawl, an angler from the Cleveland suburb of Brunswick caught a beast of a walleye that weighed in at well over 12 pounds. He stood to earn a $65,000 paycheck, except he disappeared from the standings. Seeking to stave off the social media salvos, the fisherman — not the Brawl brass — later explained that in the fog of the pandemic, he had neglected to register his new Ranger boat.
The Brawl's problems seem to have been exacerbated by the “mum's the word” approach taken by the Brawl's net-minder Murphy, who did not respond to multiple phone messages and text messages seeking comment or an explanation of Runyan and Cominsky's apparent disqualification.
Angler Johnathan Stewart, who was in fifth place in this year's Brawl with an 11.670 walleye he caught fishing from shore, also vanished from the standings when the final Brawl winners were announced, but he was certified as the fourth-place finisher in the Slam and won $15,000. With the acknowledged intent at being repetitive, no explanation or justification for Stewart's disqualification was offered by the Brawl.
A new cast
In the years since its early days, the Brawl has dominated the Lake Erie fall fishery, and also done a lot of good work — making donations to charities such as the Wounded Warrior Project, animal rescue funds, and food banks, and setting up college scholarships — all while also showcasing the mother lode of walleye the top fishery in the world holds in its wide, shallow glacial groove.
The future of the Brawl is now in the hands of Jason Fischer of Big Water Walleye Championships, which has purchased the Fall Brawl from Murphy. Fischer, who lives in Chagrin Falls, said the deal to take over the Brawl was in the works for the past year but was not formal until the conclusion of this year's event. He said he will rely on legal advice regarding what information is released concerning any disqualifications at future events.
“We are in business to provide the walleye capital of the world with the best walleye tournaments,” said Fischer, whose company also runs the Lake Erie Walleye Trail events. “We're not going to try and reinvent the wheel. The Brawl is a grassroots thing that is unique and we will do the best we can with it.”
Since every good Shakespearean drama adheres to a five-act structure, this year's Brawl saga will continue to play out. After an intense six weeks of competition, a series of smoke-filled room style polygraph exams, inexplicable deliberations, and indiscernible rulings, the legal fray now will commence. This time it will be dueling barristers and a magistrate chasing something fishy.
First Published December 18, 2021, 1:00 p.m.
