anglersmail.com 9 JULY | 35KIM MILSOM
It made me very sad when Kim
dropped out of match fi shing. I think
he was often misunderstood. In our
Essex County days, you could have
a beer with him the evening prior to
a big match and he would be great
company, but come the morning
of an event he would clam-up
completely. I could see he was getting
in the zone, a bit like professional
athletes before a big race.
There was great rivalry between
us, and it ended up pretty fi nely
balanced. My best moment came
in the 1993 Drennan Super League
Final, in Ireland. In those days, the
Final was a three-day event, with
pole, feeder and fl oat rounds, to
fi nd the most versatile team. But
there was another match going
on, between Kim and me, to be top
individual points scorer.
Nuddy and Clappy knew all about
this, but let it ride, because between
us we were destroying the oppositionMATT HAYES
I appeared in one of
Matt’s early TV series,
when Len Gurd was
fi lming them for a satellite
channel. It was only a
fl eeting part, because
the venue that we were
fi shing, Walthamstow
Reservoirs, switched off
that day. We had a good
laugh all the same, and I
was amazed how he could
switch into presenter
mode so effortlessly
when he was in front of
the cameras.
Many years later I was fi shing the
back-end of a river that runs into
Lough Corrib, in Southern Ireland.
A four-wheel drive pulled up on a
bridge in the distance, then a personI bumped into Frank’s son, Dean,
at a fi shing show recently, and
he reminded me of my cartoon
series in Angler’s Mail, which
his dad once appeared in,
when we fi shed the River Trent
Embankment, not far from where
I now live.
Frank was another natural
angler. He kidded me: “You
Southerners fi ddle about toomuch when it comes to stick
fl oat fi shing. Let it go with the
fl ow, m’duck.”
I bumped into him again on a
big Midlands canal match. The
cut was frozen that day, and
there was Frank, fag in mouth,
swinging a great big dumbbell
on a length of rope to break the
ice. He said: “Just getting my
morning exercise, m’duck!”was how famous John was back
in those days, comparable with
Jeremy Wade currently.
I didn’t have a clue what
he wanted. He said: “Dave, I
understand that you know a
bit about this new-fangled
pole fi shing malarkey. Can you
write 2,000 words about it for a
monthly publication I’m working
on?” I did, of course, and got paid
handsomely for it.
It was many years later that I
met John in person, at an angling
show. We had a chat and a good
laugh about the pole fi shing
article. Sadly, I never got to fi sh
with him but, like most fans,
I almost felt that I was there
whenever I watched his
super-enthusiastic TV exploits.
Dennis Lipscombe was a class above
anybody else, and is still competing
in the Essex area, putting together
fi ne bags of fi sh, such as these Lake
John Fishery bream.
Photo courtesy of Lake John Fishery.DENNIS
LIPSCOMBE
Dennis is one of the most natural
anglers that I’ve ever met. He
enjoyed an illustrious match
fi shing career and is, I believe, still
competing regularly on venues
around the Essex area.
I remember when I fi rst started
fi shing competitions on the River
Lea Navigation, a venue where
Dennis was the master. I was
practising at Stonebridge Locks
when he dropped by.
“Let’s have a go with that,
Mucker”, he said, grabbing my pole.
He tweaked something and instantly
brought my swim to life. Amazing!
In those days, the attendance
at three-hour Thursday evening
sweepstake matches at Cooks Ferry
pales current weekend events into
insignifi cance.
At one stage, Dennis was almost
unbeatable. He used to cook his
hemp on the way to the venue, in
a vacuum fl ask, saying the fresher
it was, the better. But there was
more to it than that. He did things
differently, and was worlds apart
from the rest of us.
One of Billy Makin’s fi nest moments came when
he won the coveted 1978-79 Angler’s Mail-
Shakespeare Matchman of the Year contest, as
reported here in AM.BILLY
MAKIN
Billy was the
king of canals
for many
years, and yet
surprisingly
ended up
opening one
of the biggest
commercial
fi shery
complexes,
which is still
operating to this day (under
different ownership).
I once watched Billy fi shing
one of his Makin wagglers down
the middle of a boat channel
on a freezing day at Cassiobury
Park. He won that Grand UnionCanal match with chub, and it
was brilliant to watch. Other
anglers couldn’t buy a bite,
but he was ultra confi dent and
amazingly good, using his canal
fl oat rod like a wand to conjure
something out of nothing.Kim Milsom in his pomp, fi shing
for England, before he become
disillusioned with fi shing.
around us. We were fi shing against
the best bream anglers in the
country, in the shape of Team
Tubertini, but we didn’t care. I just
snatched Man of the Match by one
point, with Kim snapping at my heels
all the way. To his credit, he was the
fi rst person to shake my hand.Matt Hayes – a natural in front of the
cameras, and a mighty fi ne angler, too.FRANK BARLOW
The expression says it all- Frank Barlow, angling’s
biggest character.
got out and started watching me.
Next minute, the vehicle pulled up
behind me. It was Matt.
“Dave, I thought it was you. I’m
fi shing on Corrib for big ferox troutand need some roach for bait. Have
you got any, mate?”
The roach that I caught became
more famous than my short slot in
his televised fi shing adventures.