For as long as I am able to go fishing, the charming song recited by a long-time fishing buddy will be rattling between my ears every time I am rigged up with a topwater frog for largemouth bass.

Twenty years ago, Steve Zarbaugh cranked up his vocal chords to set the mood when he and I chased the topwater bite as it heated up at Mosquito Lake. His zany sense of humor was the perfect spice for our fishing trips.

“Froggy went a courtin’, he did ride, sword and pistol by his side, uh huh,” he sang as we twitched and tumbled hollow-body frogs over the edges and through the holes of the acres of lily pad fields on Mosquito’s north end.

We can thank the pilgrims for bringing the froggy courtin’ tune from Great Britain to America. It has survived here for hundreds of years, thanks to the singers who have worked it into their performances. Bob Dylan’s version is well-known, as is Burl Ives’ rendition. Zarbaugh’s performance, however, ranks with the best of them, as it was the call for show-stopper action.

When bass and other predator fish attack hollow-body frogs, they leave no doubt about their intentions to kill and eat the bogus amphibians. Strikes can range from splashy slurps to explosive eruptions.

I recently enjoyed one of the better days of hollow-body frog fishing, and while Zarbaugh was not in the boat that day, the familiar tune played repeatedly in my ears.

The wind was blowing in on a 200-yard stretch of lily pads that had begun to flower. The flat on which the plants were blooming ranged from 3 to 5 feet deep and the water was the perfect color to encourage largemouth bass to hunt for easy meals while concealing themselves in the stems under the shaded canopies created by the broad leaves.

As the MotorGuide dragged me within range of a point in the pads, I launched a long cast with a white belly popping-style Spro frog, the kind that many bass anglers refer to as Kermit. The lure plunked down exactly where I had aimed it and I began the twitch-and-pause cadence that creates a lifelike action.

Just as the frog flopped off a large lily leaf, a big bass attacked with mouth agape, creating a whirlpool into which my lure disappeared. Though the strike was startling, I resisted the urge to swing, waiting to feel the tug that confirmed the lure was in the largemouth’s large mouth.

I pulled back hard and the fish surged for the deepest and darkest tangle of stems, leaves and flowers. Frog fishing is the angling version of hand-to-hand combat, and the fight was on. I kept the pressure thanks to the 7.5-foot heavy action rod and 65-pound-test braided line, and was able to winch the fish from the vegetation. Once it swam into the open water, the bass jumped twice, belly-flopping in showery sprays.

The fish was one of 15 I boated that day on the hollow-body frog. Ten additional bass smacked the lure, but I missed solid hookups.

That’s froggin’. Strikes are spectacular and the fish are often better quality compared to what other lures produce. But missed strikes are common. It’s all part of the game. Even the swings and misses are a ton of fun.

Summer’s just begun, so I have several more months to play the tune that Zarbaugh implanted in my brain. Froggy went a courtin’, indeed.

Jack Wollitz writes weekly about fishing adventures throughout the Mahoning Valley. Contact him at jackbbaass@gmail.com.