It is with a great deal of sadness that I report the death of Ivan Marks. Ivan, 67, had been battling with liver problems and other serious illness for some time and it finally beat him over the weekend when he died in hospital. He was no stranger to serious illness, having had a heart transplant 12 years ago. Ivan was one of the UK’s finest match anglers, the leading member of Leicester’s Likely Lads match squad. He was to match fishing what Dick Walker was to the specialist angler, or the specimen hunter as they were known in those days. He was angling’s first ‘superstar’ and that’s exactly what they called him in Angling Times, where he had a regular column that was eagerly read each week. I remember the headlines following yet another big match win, and a big match in those days could have been a thousand pegs – ‘Ivan Marks- Superstar’. Nobody argued with it, you didn’t have to be a match angler to know that he was a truly great angler that stood head and shoulders above the crowd. He had something special, but like all great anglers you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it was. His achievements in match angling will never be bettered. He fished for England on 10 occasions, won three Great Ouse Championships, the Welland Championship, was the CIU Champion on three occasions and was Embassy Individual Champion. He won at least 10 matches that had more than 800 pegs and numerous other big open matches against 200 or more competitors. He was renowned for being helpful and good humoured. I’ll never forget the day I was pegged next to him in a challenge match on the Warwickshire Avon. He had the usual gallery behind him and, as was his way, he was turning round and exchanging banter with them, laughing and joking as he fished. He could do that and still concentrate on the job of catching fish. Even as he turned to speak to somebody he would be reaching into his bait apron and feeding the swim. He had a bad peg that day, very weedy and almost unfishable. Some of the crowd had moved behind me as I’d already netted a barbel and a chub. We were having a laugh as well, for the only way I could fish my peg, which also was very weedy, was to stand in the water so that I could run my float through the channel between two beds of ranunculus. Which was okay except that I’d forgotten my waders and was stood with the water and silty mud up to my backside. Ivan sat with the crowd behind me and joined in the friendly banter. That match was memorable to me for two reasons: I won my section, but best of all I’d beaten Ivan off the next peg. I would be able to boast about that for the rest of my life. So RIP Ivan. I didn’t know you personally, as a personal friend that is, but like thousands of others, I felt like I did. There will be a tribute to Ivan in this week’s Angling Times. |
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