We spend so much time learning to manipulate bass lures – to make topwaters skitter, to make frogs walk, and to make gliders glide – that it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that a lot of our greatest successes as anglers come when we do nothing at all. That’s been a known fact for nearly four decades, back to when Alabama pro Jack Chancellor won the Bassmaster Classic using the aptly-named “Do Nothing Worm.” [Side historical note: I later bought some of the original worms on eBay and they’d been doing nothing so long that the hooks had rusted out in the package].

Seriously, in all of the writing that I do, for Inside Line, B.A.S.S. and other outlets, I hear it time and again when talking about techniques like dropshotting: “Less is more,” the pros tell us. “Don’t impart any extra action to the lure.”

The biggest beneficiary and enabler of this trend, of course, has been the Senko. You don’t twitch it like a fluke or stroke it like a jig. I mean, I guess you could, and it would probably produce fish, but it’s at its best when you just let that sucker fall and produce its own natural shimmy. Consider me a shill if you like, but it outproduces just about anything…and the evidence I have is that when I get into boats of pros sponsored by other companies they invariably have the original Yamamoto product in hiding.

It's that feeling of “how can I possibly feel good about myself if I do even less,” that led me to reject the Ned Rig for so long. I could kick myself, just as I kick myself for not picking up a Senko or a swim jig sooner, but eventually, I bought in. It’s not a prime player for me on the Potomac, my home waters, but I’ve used it just about everywhere else, from Michigan to Mexico, and the sucker just plain catches fish. I don’t know why – it’s absolutely featureless – but they bite the hell out of it if you just have the guts to LEAVE. IT. ALONE. I’m serious: cast it out to the most no-fish-having spot in sight and let it sink and by the time you take the bite of a Little Debbie, you’ll probably have a fish on. It might be a dink, but you’ll be surprised at how often it’s a grown one. Eventually, you too will have a specialized Ned Rig rod and you won’t be embarrassed to have it on the deck.

I’m particularly excited that Yamamoto has now produced a specialized 3” Ned Senko. A regular 3” Senko, or a larger one cut in half, was fine for this purpose, but the same characteristics that made the salty plastic so good for Senkos made it a little bit less than ideal for this technique. Now we’ve got floatation, too. Pick your favorite colors, but I’m particularly excited about Goby and Electric Shad. 

As long as I’m talking Ned Rigging, I’ve gotta give my annual shout-out to fellow outdoor writer Ned Kehde. I’ve never met him but he’s done the impossible for a member of our gnarly clan of misfits – getting permanent recognition for doing something good on the water. While Dean Rojas is irrevocably linked to the Bronzeye Frog, Brett Hite is still reaping in Jackhammer rewards, and Chris Zaldain previously put the Magdraft on the map, they’re pros and that’s what they’re paid to do. As far as I know, Ned is the only writer in that same class. And while I don’t know if he has frogs or vibrating jigs or swimbaits in his boat, you can be sure that all of them have some permutation of his creation in theirs.