I found it a little sad as in the recant past there were angling books on my library shelves but none now, it was the same in WH Smithes up to a year or so ago but not now.
Maybe my veiws on anglings seemingly dwindling numbers have been gleaned from the area/region where I live.
It used to be said that if a filmaker wanted to portray a city without men then sheffield (or any town close to it ) would be the place to film on june the sixteenth as they had all caught trains , the milk train to Brigg , and another two fully loaded ones down to Bosten in lincolnshire dropping guys off on the Chesterfield canal, the rivers idle, Trent , the Fossdyke canal, and all the way down the lower Witham from lincoln to boston, some thirty six miles of river (and anglers). There were times when you couldnt find a spot to fish and that was thro the entire season.
Besides the trains there were rows of coaches lind up in the city centre that went to just about every place you could find in the fens.All the local ponds, reservoirs, dams were used extensively by guys who maybe had to work a shift in a factory and could only fish a short session.
Sheffield had a tackle shop that served every local area and the owners made good livings from them too.
Matches were held by every single pub and working mens club in the town/region and all the factories and pits did the same, some matches numbered well over a thousand competitors many others doing them with three/ four hundred.
Now you can visit most all the places ive mentioned and they are empty, the tackle shops gone, the pits n steelworks closed and a big match numbers twenty guys on a "baggin " water.
There are one or two on here that experienced all of that as I did and like me may look back on times when angling here , regionally and nationally was pretty much the same but sadly or otherwise is no more.
Little wonder perhaps that libraries dont need to put books on fishing on there shelves, very sad because there are kids out there living in some big place who could maybe enjoy the thrill of reading of some wonderous place like thousands did in the recant past, of water, fish and the potential pleasure of indulging in its magic.
Maybe it all looks pretty much as its always done in some areas but compared to times only recantly gone by in my area angling is a mere shadow of what it once was.
All a bit sad to see really.