The last thing any fly fisher wants to think about in the early spring is Christmas and the weather that generally accompanies it. But really, is there any time where Will Ferrell, dressed up like an elf, isn’t funny?

I’d say “no.”

More than his trademark humor, I think there is something that the fly fishing culture can glean from the character. Let’s take a moment to think about ol’ Buddy from the holiday classic Elf.

Do you remember how Buddy reacts when he first steps foot in New York City? There is trepidation, a lot of awkwardness, and some fear. Most of all, there is awe. He sees the big buildings, the interesting people, and even the best cup of coffee in the world. For the very first time, Buddy experiences the wonders of metropolitan civilization and he is transfixed.

But what about everyone else? His dad, stepbrother, and soon-to-be love interest are all over it. There isn’t any magic left in Christmas, and New York city itself seems to have lost its charm. It is all old hat. Their apathy, their negativity, and their scathing words aren’t helping themselves out any. And they very nearly bring poor Buddy down.

So… what does this have to do with fly fishing?

Try to remember the first time you held an unwieldy, 9-foot fly rod. Try to recall what it felt like to walk into a river with the intent to catch a fish on a tiny fly for the very first time. Try to put yourself back in the moment when you first felt the tug of a trout.

For most new fly fishers, that experience includes trepidation, a lot of awkwardness, and some fear. Most of all, there is awe.

As experienced fly fishers, be it for a season or decades, we need to be mindful to not squelch that awe.

“You fish with a [insert brand here] rod? Ha, okay.”

“Where’s that from? Yeah, that stream stinks.”

“Nice stocked trout. I mean, look at how chewed up its fins are.”

“Way to go grabbing that trout with dry hands! How about learning how to fish before you kill everything!”

Those comments are a little extreme. But if you hang out online or on the bank of certain streams, you know that they aren’t even the worst examples of how new anglers are treated. I don’t have dozens of anecdotes, but I have had a number of conversations with people who were turned off to angling (and conservation, and people, etc.) because someone was condescending.

It sounds overly simple, but sometimes things like that need to be said: be nice.

Enjoy their experience. Even if their entomology, casting stroke, or fly fishing lingo is cumbersome, bask in the glow of what they are getting to see and feel for the first time. Notice the little things that get them excited. Perceive how their fresh eyes attempt to solve problems that you might still be struggling with. What’s more, see how well you know what you think you know by trying to simply explain fishing to them.

The awe and joy of fly fishing is sometimes best seen through the eyes of someone experiencing it for the first time. Hatch charts, leader tapers, and even internet etiquette squabbles aren’t on their radar. They’re just catching fish, being outdoors, and figuring out how special this pursuit can be. Being there with them is special, too.

After all, Buddy ended up being the hero of the story. He didn’t have all the right answers or even a grasp on basic nutrition, but his heart was in the right place. That worked out for him. Once their attitudes changed, it also worked out pretty well for the people around him.