A few months ago, I was involved in a joint exercise of the sort that further rots a writer’s mind. I’d been asked to help select the most influential personality in the broad world of fly-fishing.
Half a dozen industry types retired to their separate computers, jiggled the keys a few minutes, then fired off their opinions. The answers all came back the same — a bald, 83-year-old gnome with a bad ticker who hops about on a crutch spouting the same stale jokes he told this time last year.
There wasn’t even a second place.
In keeping with the popular flair that reserves ultimate celebrity for those with a single name, he is known simply as Lefty. For reasons of publishing propriety, the last name, Kreh, gets tacked onto the 38 books and a dozen videos he has produced.
Nobody can begin to count the numbers of magazine and newspaper articles or the casting clinics, pearls of wisdom that, if placed on a string, might span an ocean. Put simply, no one knows nearly as much about fishing, or the many places it is practiced, as this man who grew up in Great Depression poverty, survived the Battle of the Bulge and went on to angling fame.
I’ve known Lefty Kreh for more than 40 years. Loved his infectious enthusiasm for life, his reverence for the sport, his genuine caring for the many thousands who tug at him constantly for advice. Even laughed at the jokes.
More recently, I’ve come to know a lot more. The reason is a sudden effusion of biographies that elevate him into the Sarah Palin stratosphere of most-researched Americans.
The most notable, of the hefty sort that helps keep coffee tables from floating away, is called “All the Best: Celebrating Lefty Kreh.”
The title is a double-entendre for Lefty’s customary way of signing off on his correspondence and his blueprint for life.
Constructed by Flip Pallot with contributions from the fly-fishing community, the book was published independently by Pitts Yandel, an investor in the TFO fly-rod company for which Lefty is spokesman and designer.
“I’m embarrassed. It humbled me,” he said of a tribute that’s almost — but not quite — as expansive as Lefty’s very own self.
The book sells for $60. A companion double DVD featuring an extended five-hour conversation between Kreh and Pallot further highlights those wonderful 83 years. It costs $29.95.
A second biography, “My Life Was This Big and Other True Fishing Tales,” out later this month, is of more modest conception, but no less to the point. Lefty actually began writing it years ago when Nick Lyons still was in the publishing business.
“Nick asked me to write a book about my life. I got 10 to 12 thousand words, but found it very hard to write about myself.”
Those words stayed stuck in the computer until writer Chris Millard approached with the notion of completing the project. The result is a second-person production from Skyhorse Publishing that doesn’t anchor a table but costs a more modest $24.95.
Both biographies tell a riveting tale of a man whose soaring spirit lifted from a hardscrabble beginning to the pinnacle of the fishing world. Reading along the way, we find aspects of each of us — or at least what we’d like to be.
Kreh takes over the book production from there. His “Casting with Lefty Kreh” (Stackpole Books, $59.95) will be introduced at the Fly Fishing Retailer World Trade Expo that begins a three-day run today at the Colorado Convention Center.
Lefty, of course, will be on hand, despite the severe knee injury seven months ago that causes him to lean on a crutch. The mishap barely slowed him down.
He estimates he’s kept 80 percent of his show schedule, casting better, and farther, in a seated position than the rest of us might from a platform. His persistence isn’t without purpose.
“Guys I see who sit back and take it easy aren’t around very long.”
The Denver expo is for the trade only, not open to the public. But chances are we’ll see fly-fishing’s pied piper back in the city soon for one of his heralded exhibitions. Lefty will dazzle with his distinctive artistry, crack a few jokes and everyone will go home with more confidence in their strokes and feeling better about the world in general.
It’s because he’s all the best.
Charlie Meyers: 303-954-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com
