In writing this column it has frequently occurred to me that failure in fieldsports is usually more interesting to recount than success. On the rare occasions it comes my way, success seems an awfully smug thing to write about. To begin with, no one believes you actually did what you say you did. Second, no one likes a braggart. Third, if you try to sound modest you usually end up sounding mock-modest. There’s another thing in favour of writing about failure. It’s such a common experience that everyone can share it with you.
Last weekend I failed fairly dismally and not only with the trout. Once a year, my elder brother comes to stay. The highlight of his visit is that
