In the grips of insomnia, I stumbled on a late-night broadcast of Fly Fishing Masters, a competitive fly fishing show on OLN. I couldn’t turn it off.

fly fishing masters logoIt’d be easy to batter the show given my thoughts about the value of human v. human competition in a sport where we’re already competing with the fish (and what that typically means to the fish).

Still, I found myself drawn into the program, fascinated more by the group dynamics than the fishing. Competition only rarely brings out the nobility in human beings, and at times, the Fly Fishing “Masters” weren’t immune to a little kvetching.

At one point, a stunningly egotistical angler kept up a running commentary on his fishing partner’s faults when the guy finally did what any sane person would have done hours prior – he told him to shut up.

Ahh. It’s the “Real World.”

And therein lies the attraction; it’s more a fly fishing “reality” show – with all the non-reality implied – than fishing competition. This episode of “Real World: Spring Creek” was fraught with lost and foul-hooked fish, and I’ll never forget the disappointment dripping from an angler’s voice when his first fish (counted as part of their total) was shorter than hoped.

For the record, reducing a small victory to the class of a “disappointment” stuns a little. The day I do I start doing that is the day I’ll begin a new life pursuing line-class world records – or find some other way to externally validate my fishing experience.
Is bass fishing our future?

To see the real-world implications of fishing competitions, you don’t have to look any farther afield than bass fishing, where the very sport has been redefined by the competitions that dominate it. Today’s bass fisher isn’t really fishing if he’s not competing (or getting ready to), and the marketing juggernaut has wholly rolled over what used to be an enjoyable pasttime.

Making matters worse are the bigger, televised competitions, where a bass angler’s airtime is determined not by the fish he catches, but the antics they launch into after landing one. Unpretty stuff.

And then there are the even darker faces of fishing competition; practices like cheating, and what I’d politely call an “overfocus” on competition. Or even the explosion of techniques like “Czech nymphing” – a competitive mainstay probably best practiced with a few feet of line tied off the tip of a 12′ crappie pole – that’s about as much fun as sipping paint thinner.

It is what it is.

It would be easy to call for a general mourning among the populace (or even an airstrike), but to keep it all in focus, we’re talking about a made-for-tv competition involving 16 anglers hand-picked by the producers of the show. A little Google research reveals this competition has shrunk instead of grown, so I’m guessing it’s not exactly taking the fly fishing world by storm.

Still, I’d hate to see largely social club outings replaced with club competitions, and what a fly fisher locked in the grip of competition might be willing to do a river – and the non-competitors who just want to fish.

Other Rumblings.

Interestingly, I wrote this post and then went on a search for others, and I found a couple of recent links about competitive fly fishing. One at Ass Hooked Whitey, and another at a new (and slightly angst-ridden) blog titled Musings of a Trout Bum.

So it’s time for the Undergrounders to be heard. Is there more competition in fly fishing’s future? And are you good, bad, or indifferent…?