to the top and to
stay
there.
Obsession
accurately describes what they
do and
good luck to them, they have to beabsolutely single
mindedin
theirpursuit
of
excellence.
But
I was
becoming increasingly aware
that
it
wasn't
for me. I have always
chosen
to
put my family in
front
of
fishing,
so I
took a year out, not totally turning mybackon matchfishing,but allowing
myself
the freedom to choose what Idid and
when.
I can recommend it.Putting team fishing on the shelf for awhilehasenabledme totake stockof
my
life
and do things
I've
wanted to
do
for
ages,
but have always been too busy
chasing
after
my own tail, getting
*Some
anglers could
win the
same match
every
week
for the
rest
of
their lives
and
never
tire
of
it.
Others
go oncatching
the
sametwenty pound
carp
over
and
over again.
I
prefer
variety.
9
nowhere
fast.
Quite honestly it was like stoppingbanging my head against
a
brick wall.The trouble
is,
nowI've
stopped,
there
are so
many other things
I
realise
I
would like
to do, I
fear
life
itself will
be
too
short
tocram everythingin.These
are
just
a few of the
highlights.
I
makeno
apologies
for
the quotations.....
JUNE
"When
one
door
of
happinesscloses
another
opens;
but
often
we
look
so long at
the
closed
door
that
we do not see the one
thathas
been
opened
for
us".
HELEN
KELLER
"I
should like
to
enjoy
this
Summer,
flower
by flower as
if
it
were
to be the
last
one for
me"
ANDRE
GIDE
June
started with
a
shock.
Did I
want
to
fish
the
A.C.A. Celebrity Classic
at
Mallory
Park?
Do
bears like honey?
Of
course
I
did but
where
the
hell
is
Mallory
I
thought?
I
would like to
add
before going
further
that
I am a
member
of the
A.C.A.
and if you
aren't,
you
shouldhang your head in shame. If only thenew license could be increased by justone
poundand the
proceeds donateddirectly
to the
A.C.A.
all 0ur
future
problems mightbelittle ones,but
that's
a fantasy, too many
anglers
simply
don't
care enough, sorry, backto thestory.The
road
atlas was studied intently
and
thereitwas, hardly more thanahundred miles away.Awordon theblower with Roy Marlow about daytickets proved fruitless. Members only,however
if we
wanted
to
come downon Monday evening, it was open nightand we could at least have a lookaround.Monday'stripwas amemorableoccasion
if
only
for
the
fact
that
I was
able
to
realise
one
little fantasy, drivinground the racing circuit! Funny
isn't
ithow some things bring out themischievous little
boy in us.Mallory's
fishing
is
frightening.
Lots
of
zoo
animals
in the
main lake, morezoo animals in the Concrete lake, but
less
zooanimalsin theFoundation
lake.
After
watching
a
youngster
regularly
catching one pound carp ayard out
from
the bank on theFoundation my mind was made up. Noway was I going to embarrass myself
on the big
fish
when even
I
could castone yard with the best. A wingeing
phone
call to Captain Roger was inorder because teams could select whichanglers
fished
which lake. Fourteen lies
and
three bribes later
he
fell
for it. I was
on theFoundation, phew! whata
relief.
A
bit of
practise
was in
ordersomehow,
so it was off to
Lindholme
Lakes for a
dabble
on the
pole
for
it'slarge head
of
small carp.Now everyone knows carp growrapidly, particularly when
the
owner
of
.
a
lake feeds them regularly,
so why did
I
think they would still
be
twelve ounce
fish
like they were
two
yearspreviously?
No I
can't explain either.
A
brainstorm I guess. The top and bottom
of
it was
these
fish
in
just eighteeninches
of
water were
a bit too
big
for
my
liking
and
whilst
I did
eventuallyput two on thebankitwasn't beforetheir brothersandsistershadmadeaproper Charlie
out of me.
This
did my
confidence no
good
at
all, knowing
I
would get the same opportunity to lookstupid
on
Saturday only
in
front
of a
crowd.Saturday soon came around
and
after
an
extortionately expensive breakfaston the motorway we rolled on down to
Mallory
Park and surveyed the scene.
Looking
round
I
couldn't help
feeling
that
my
pools money represented
little
more than
a
donation,
but I
would havepaid twice
for
the
privilege
of
beingthere. Into
the
draw
bag and I was
away
to peg115, virtuallythesamepegin which the pleasure angler wasbagging
on
Monday. When
I
got
there
I
could actually
see the
activity created
by
those same small carp,
boy was I
going
to
have
fun?
The peg was
right
in a
corner
so I
had
no-one
to my
right.
On my
left
was
the
enigmatic Frank
Barlow
who
explained how
unfortunate
I
was
tobein
fhe
corner.
It
seemed
I was
destinedto watch the anglers on the right bank,
directly
in my
line
of
sight, bagging
up."But
what about these
fish
at my
feet?"
"They'll
vanish. The
gate's
behind you,
everyone
who comes to watch on this
lake
has to
come onto
the
bank directlybehindyoustraighton the skyline.""He's mad" I thought. He wasn't.
I
spent
the
first
two
hours
of the
match
trying
to
feed
offthe
bits
on two
lines
so
that
I
could catch
the
carp,
one
under
my
feet
and one at
seven metres.
Five
pints
of
bait later
I had
just about
succeeded
except the carp had not
fallen
for the
ruse.
As
predicted they
had
drifted
away
and I had
completely
cocked it up. Why on
earth
I had
adopted such aggressive, attacking
tactics I
can't explain
but as
they
sayyou
live
and
learn.There
was
perhaps
a
pound
of
fish
inmy net
whilst that nice
Mr.
Barlow
easily
had
double
figures
of
skimmers.
If
there
was any
consolation
his pegwas
drying
up
fast.
I had
completelyblown
it by
going
for
broke.
Bloody
carp! Whenever
one of the
bitsmanaged to get it's kissing gear round
a
double bait the cruncher elasticbounced
it
off.
I was
beginning
to
wish
I
had
overslept.
My
embarrassmentwasgrowingby theminute.
With
two hours to go and the
whole
lake
apparently dead
I
switched
to
fishing
squattsin anattempttosavea
bit of
face.
This produced
a
small
fish
a
chuck
and the
awful
realisation that
if Ihad
gone
for it
from
the off
using
Stainforth
Canal tactics
I
could easilyhave done
big
doubles instead
of
justsix and a
half
pounds. Still the cause
was
just
and a
fortune
was
raised
for
the
A.C.A.
which is why we were reallythere anyway.The disappointment
didn't
last longbecause I was soon to make anastounding discovery.
A
small river
^Monday's trip
was a
memorable
occasion
if
only
for
the
fact that
I
was
able
to
realise
one
little fantasy, driving
round
theracingcircuit!
Woweeee!!!
funny
isn't
it
how
some things
bring
out themischievouslittle
boy in
us.
9
close
to
home
had
exploded into
life.
Ihad
fished
the
river below
a
wier
for
five
years
or so
with varying degrees
of
success but
during
an
evening stroll
with
the
wife
along
a
deeper stretch
I
witnessed some
big
fish
rolling.
Returning
the
following
evening
with
half
a
pint
of
casters
I
caughtroach,
rudd, perch, bream
and
hybrids
Leave a Comment