A book published by a former Portland newspaper editor has linked fly-fishing with a father-son relationship - his own.

The book is "Backcast," by Lou Ureneck, former editor of the Press Herald and now head of the journalism department at Boston University. The text is currently in bookstores.

In it, he recounts a fishing trip through Alaska (in 2000) that he designed to create closer ties with his teen-age son, Adam.

For those who find fishing a metaphor for all things natural and good, "Backcast" promises to be enjoyable reading.

I mention it because I knew Lou in my days at the Press Herald. We didn't talk fishing (it's a fly-versus-worms thing), but we were friendly as he moved his way up the corporate ladder (we don't discuss my inclination to remain stationary).

Also, I relate to the book because sports can create wonderful ties between generations.

The sport in my family was tennis. My daughter, Leslie, played for four years on the Waterville varsity. My son, Drew, was a top player at the University of New Hampshire. Whenever there is decent weather or an indoor court, we still play among each other.

More poignantly, I recall the days of playing with my father. We had more than our share of victories, because he was a very good player.

What I remember most, though, was the fortnight in which my mother was dying (at age 54). Each time the visiting nurse came to the house to give us a few hours off, we went to the local courts and hit balls.

I don't think we said a word. We certainly didn't play to win points or earn a victory. But the fresh air felt good, and the repetitive bashing of the ball gave the mind a little rest.

I don't know much about fly-fishing as Lou does. But I would agree with his thesis that sport can be a great equalizer among generations.

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