In homage to this summer’s clamor for all things Superman, I have experienced a number of bass bites that I truly can describe as “faster than a speeding bullet.”

Fans of Chatterbaits and other bladed jigs know that bass and other game fish love the vibrating lures and typically smash them hard.

But those same bass sometimes seem to sneak up behind an aggressively reeled Chatterbait and swim directly back toward the angler. I experienced that confounding bass tactic Wednesday, and my brain immediately asked why some vibrating jig bites are no-doubters while others leave the angler guessing even after repeated attempts to jab the hook into the fish’s jaw.

Questions, indeed. As a matter of fact, it’s just one of many that anglers ponder as they pursue the plethora of species that swim our planet’s waters.

Why do bass jump, but walleyes don’t? Why do crappies gently “mouth” baits while bluegills snap and run?

If you’ve ever caught a sheepshead, you know their fight is distinctly different from the bass and walleyes that anglers typically are targeting when the drum beat the other fish to their lures. Sheepsheads’ dink-and-dart maneuvers leave little doubt of their identity and often torch tempers and groans from protesting anglers.

Likewise a steelhead that attacks a trolled plug or spoon out on Lake Erie is quickly recognized by the anglers in the boat who were hoping for a big walleye. The power and acrobatics of the steelhead are evident from the get-go for those who were expecting dead weight and stubborn head shakes.

Northern pike and muskies are notorious for blazing runs and cartwheeling jumps, the likes of which certainly elevate anglers’ blood pressure.

Smallmouth bass are known to never give up. They have the endurance of a distance runner. When an angler finally gets a big smallie to the boat, the battle is far from over, as the bass dive every time they are pulled close to the net.

Big catfish fight like heavyweight boxers – lunges and uppercuts with a few jabs to keep the angler honest.

Crappies, meanwhile, are the ballet dancers of fishing. They dart and spin, and may twirl at the surface, but rarely do they make long runs.

Every fish we encounter here in northeastern Ohio and western Pennsylvania has its own distinctive fighting style, which I find fascinating considering fish do not learn from their elders even though they do school.

The bass that bit my bladed jig Wednesday simply knocked slack in the line, which was no easy feat considering my aggressive retrieve. Sensing a fish had hit the bait, I jerked and just pulled water. I jerked again and reeled faster, finally getting the baitcaster into high gear, which still was not enough to result in my rod actually bending to the bass’ weight.

Faster than a speeding bullet? Yep, and capable of leaping tall buildings.

Jack Wollitz has written this column weekly since 1988 for anglers and other readers in Warren and Youngstown. Contact him at jackbbaass@gmail.com.