There’s nothing informs quite like the Internet but it has no sensitivity filter.
One minute you’re scrolling quietly through Twitter feeds – the ‘rods for sale’, ‘caught this yesterday’ and ‘my mate’s stupid hat’ mundanity of it; the next you’re sitting bolt upright in your chair.
“Just received details of Mike Roden’s funeral…”
I think I met Mike Roden twice, both times at the charming Curley’s Fly Fishery, one of those rare in-town waters where flyline routinely soars against the backdrop of a passing bus and where, on a clear day, you can turn away from the reservoir on the dam wall and see the Irish Sea glinting beyond Southport in the distance.
If it’s not the only fishery in the land with a baby grand piano in the lodge, I’ll be astonished.
Mike was in charge of tuition at Curley’s the first time we met, and running the venue’s fishing operation the second. We shot some instructional video with him on the latter visit and were so impressed at the confident ease with which he imparted information in front of camera, we christened him ‘One-take Roden’ in the car going home.
Friendly and helpful, some people you only need meet twice to warm to them.
Thank you and God bless you, Mike, and my condolences to those you loved.