Most angling magazines are predominantly eye candy shopping guides. Like the man who buys penthouse, we persuade ourselves that these magazines have some worthy merit, but actually our eyes just pop out at pictures of fish we will never catch in locations we can't afford and prosthetic shiny bendy things that will extend our reach (we are told). Harmless fun I suppose and I have been known to indulge between the glossy pages now and then. There is a dark side though. Occasional attacks of the tackle monster can affect the best of us. I was once told that the fish don't know what's at the other end of the line. Makes sense really since if they did know it was some expensive plastic and metal then me, they probably would avoid grabbing the end with the hooky thing even more than the do already when I'm fishing. Fisherman can be divided up into three categories each more or less immune to the tackle monster (of fisherwoman I know little and wish to say less).

Firstly there is the fisherman who has tackle to fish with. He never buys another rod until the one he has got has been run over by a truck, twice. If he is forced renew tackle he will find the cheapest serviceable tackle he can get whether it is old or knew matters not. This man is never found in a tackle shop and never buys magazines. His approach has nothing to do with wealth or lack of it he just fishes to catch fish and can do so with any reasonable tackle. He also catches twice as many fish as anyone you know.

Secondly there is the athletic fisherman. His tackle is performance related, he cares a lot about what he fishes and like a violinist wants the best tackle he can afford in order deliver his best performance. He reads tackle reviews assiduously and can often be found in tackle shops especially if they allow onsite testing. He catches less fish then the first fisherman (since he spends to much time casting and not enough fishing), but still does ok, and can look quite impressive at least to himself.

Lastly there is the collector. This man is a noble creature who finds the tackle almost an end in itself. Living in a slightly more ethereal realm with faint whiffs of light oil and varnish, his tackle is more important than the fish he catches on it. His main habitat is in particular tackle shops. He occasionally buys magazines but prefers a good auction catalogue by far. He catches the least fish of our three.

Which am I? Well I guess like most of us a little bit of each, and I don't suppose it matters anyway. I judge fishing by the pleasure it gives me, and each one of my stereotypes gets just as much fun out of their fishing. Who is to say that 'bagging up' in an hour is any more fun than snicking a fish out of that difficult lie under the trees with a snake roll and a shooting head or spending all day catching a 6 inch brownie on a old cane rod you found in a garage and restored to its original glory, not I!