Bass may be America’s favorite sportfish, but the bottom-dwelling, omnivorous catfish is pure Americana. We’ve caught giants here on the Potomac River, tried to catch them on blue soap in Zambia, and still hope to land some surubim in South America – but we’ve never had a brew named after one.

Our second trip to Sport Fish Panama Island Lodge scratched my roosterfish itch a bit, after a 26 year lag between Pez Gallo captures. If you too are fascinated by these inshore brawlers, there are plenty of hats, shirts and artwork depicting them. Here are nine more examples that have caught my eye recently.

I have yet to catch a sturgeon, at least partially because I’ve never targeted them. I’ve been in the boat musky fishing when one of my partners hooked one and quickly released it, but that’s the extent of my experience with them. One day I hope to visit my friend Ryan Rosenbaum in Idaho to catch one of those 8- to 10-foot long acrobats, and then tap out and whack on a bunch of smallmouths on the same water. Until then, I’ll have to get my sturgeon fix through alcohol.

My first fishing memory – the one that spawned or at least unearthed this obsession – was on the Chesapeake Bay. It was the summer of 1976, and my dad and two of his friends decided to charter a boat for bluefish and bring along the three 6 year-olds. At some point during the day, everyone else stopped to eat, but I couldn’t stop fishing. Yes, that jug-eared, emaciated kid on the right is me.

Every time I fish with my friend Chichi Rodriguez at Anglers Inn Lake El Salto in Mexico, I make sure to ask him early in the session what time it is. Without missing a beat, he pops open the cooler, opens a Pacifico (or two) and responds, “Beer thirty.”