He religiously checks the Internet to see what others have been catching, and files his own catches as soon as he returns. Local anglers meticulously record their day, blank or success. After all, he is only 30, in a high-profile job and likely to continue climbing the corporate ladder.Lopas, like many Texans, does not suffer from self-doubt. Yeah, sure, the hotel job pays well and will reward him even better in the near future. But a guide can earn $400 for a half-day, that’s, er, $5,600 a week (you suspect this is the rationale his wife will have to argue against) and on the happiness scale, becoming a fishing guide would send him to the Crab Nebula.When he discovered that I enjoyed the occasional cast, Lopas immediately rescheduled my quiet evening of a few beers and a gumbo “Let’s go fishing,” he said.

He is director of guest services at the Houstonian, and it interferes hugely with his dream to fish day and night Some might see this career plan as a step backwards. The training completed, I had a spare day, then it was a plane home.
I was staying at the Houstonian, a hotel much patronised by George Bush, who lives just round the corner. He is a keen angler, and I pondered the idea of inviting him for a day’s fishing. I mean, the former US president ought to know the good spots and have access to some tasty private waters, shouldn’t he? I didn’t get George Bush, but I found Tim Lopas.A former tennis and rock band bass player, Lopas hopes ultimately to become a fishing guide At the moment, he is some way off. Designer labels, Rolex watches, sports cars with supermodels thrown in – all are presumably his for the asking. And yet here he is, advertising fertiliser for people who can’t even spell.What, you wonder, do they have on him? A secret even darker than support for the Seagulls? I think we should be told.. WHEN I got back from Galveston, I checked the words to Glen Campbell’s song Not a single mention of fishing Funny that.

From the weird happenings I’ve just experienced, the tale of Galvestonians wading through Christmas Bay at 3am to check speckled trout would make a fine country and western ballad Or maybe not a song at all. The circumstances that saw me paddling a mile off the Texas coast in the middle of the night were worthy of Fellini Or maybe just a good angling yarn

It all came about because I was in Houston this week. I was there to sharpen the writing skills for journalists specialising in the petroleum industry Fishing was the furthest thing from my mind Well, that’s not quite true, but you get the picture I had no tackle, no suitable clothing, no bait nor flies. But while your brain insisted that it must be an impostor, closer inspection proved that it was definitely Des.Now this, remember, is a man who must be able to pick and choose his endorsements. Des was fronting a new advertisement for Miracle-Gro, which is apparently a bit like an amphetamine for your herbaceous border. You may not have seen it, because it was one of those excruciating, low- budget efforts which air during Jerry Springer and, for some reason, Channel 4 Racing.

But while most of us can only hope and pray that our allegiance will never be put to such a grievous test, it was difficult not to wish also for a sense of proportion in life if those prayers are unanswered.On the subject (vaguely) of Brighton, meanwhile, the most unexpected appearance of the week was surely made by Des Lynam, the only celeb who has had the courage to come out as an Albion fan. “I shouldn’t have cared about promotion,” he said, “but I did.”Shindler’s comment was that “if you want a definition of what it means to support a football team, that’s it” Perhaps it is. The truth, though, seemed to be that it was not Manchester United who had ruined his life, but Malcolm Allison. The destruction wrought on a promising side during Big Mal’s second spell at Maine Road was chronicled with pictures of good players you can remember, who were sold, and some bad ones you can’t, who arrived to take their place.Allison’s subsequent attempt to defend himself was almost as embarrassing as his concept of style. Dubious too, though, was the sight of City fans casting aspersions at others.