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DOES SIZE REALLY MATTER? 

JOHN ROONEY

Does size really matter? Those of you can interpret this question with bold minds. However, the question is directed at the size of pike that we anglers catch each week, if we are lucky enough. I have lost count of the number of small jack's that I have caught over the years. In the early year's I can recall being over the moon at the sight of such a jack, and it was just a fish that got me on the road to being hooked. Blessington was the venue and a rod that weighed roughly the same as a scaffellders plank; all four pound of the monster was hauled from the lake with considerable ease. This pike had made a young lad very happy, and in return, I killed the poor fish. Back then I was totally innocent; a camera was way beyond means, so the dead pike was brought home as evidence just in case my friends did not believe me. I am sure that countless youngsters have enacted this scene across the country, and really, you cannot blame them. That poor unfortunate pike will be forever in my mind.

As we get older and sometimes wiser! We learn to appreciate the pike for what they really are, a top sport fish and Mother Natures' own agent of managing the lakes Eco system. Take away the large pike and you are left with one messed up lake, where the jack pike run riot on the fodder fish with no big brother to keep them in line. With more hours being spent on the water, we gain experience in handling pike and even mastering techniques that enable us to catch even bigger fish. It is at this stage that the competitive edge starts to creep up on us, and if not contained can sometimes ruin our fishing. This competitive edge usually comes in the form of your angling partner catching a large pike that leaves your previous catch looking like something from a John West tin. While you are genuinely pleased for your pal it is always at the back of your mind that you deserved to catch this fish, and in a way you are denying your pal his moment of glory. The seed of competitiveness is now deep rooted and this is the decisive point for some anglers if not curtailed.

I, myself remember going through this stage. For months the biggest pike we had caught was all of nine pound, and yes it was yours truly that had the luck of catching this huge pike, I was KingPin. On a trip one day to Whitewood Lough with the usual gang of pikers, it all went terribly wrong for me. Before our trip, we had read an article by a well-known English piker. According to this man drift floating for pike was the cream de la cream of piking, and unknown to me my mate Martin took his word and bought a drift float. The trip was going according to my plan, with plenty of small pike being landed, but nothing to threaten my nine-pounder. My title remained in tact. It was just after lunch that one of the lads produced the aforementioned article and this sent Martin scurrying for his bag. Having eventually got the hang of this strange contraption, mind you it took nearly an hour to set the float properly and by this stage the wind had completely changed direction. To cut a long storey short, Martin was now the new KingPin and was the focus of everyone's attention. A pike of seventeen pound was the felt of my heartache. I firmly believe that this was the day I stopped enjoying my piking. Over the coming years I tried in vain to equal or even better Martins' pike, although I had plenty of jacks that previously would have had me jumping around like a lamb with joy, but not even a new PB of eleven pounds could satisfy my competitive edge.

Due to Martins' family and work commitments, he had to curtail his weekly outings to maybe once a month, leaving me a somewhat lone figure on the bank. At first, it was a bit daunting fishing on my own; no partner to add the competitive edge that had driven me for so long. I found that the jacks that had made my life such a misery while competing against Martin were beginning to pump the old buzz back into me. Soon it did not matter what size the pike were every fish was as good as the last one, be it a ten or a two-pounder. I had plenty of time to think about my fishing while on my own and I soon realised that fishing was more than just catching the biggest fish. After a period of fishing on my own, I teamed up with new angling friends that seemed to share the same appetite as me for piking. We live, sleep and drink pike. I found that the competitive edge had returned and although my newfound friends were catching far more pike that me; I was actually enjoying my fishing. Gone was the King Pin title and every pike caught was counted as a success, it was now a case of who could catch the most pike, and my years of catching pike stood me well.

Through the latter years of my piking the group of us have gelled well together and when one of us is fortunate enough to catch a good pike the pleasure is felt by all. Although the competitive edge is still there alive and kicking, it is channelled into the act of catching pike and I am now enjoying my childhood buzz again. At the end of the day if you are not happy with your catch rate, then you should take a step back and recall all those blank days, when you sat for hours in the rain soaked to the skin with nothing being caught apart from a cold. Would you have been happy with the odd jack on such days? If you were to be really honest with yourself, the answer would be a big yes. Take the competitive edge from your angling and start enjoying the catches around you and not just yours, and I can assure you that not only will your own catch rate increase but also you will start to remember and enjoy the reason you are there for in the first place, fishing.

While it is very welcoming and encouraging being the recipient of a large pike, enjoy every pike for what it is a success. Only when we learn to enjoy our piking will we be on the road to becoming better anglers. Remember it is not all about quantity or quality, it is about fishing, so the next time you are freezing the town halls off yourself, waiting for the magical twenty to oblige, take a step back and ask yourself, DOES SIZE REALLY MATTER?