Man of a Hundred Flies

I know a man. Not in the Biblical sense; but in the sense that I could tell you what fly he had on the end of his line at any given time.  I'm talking Alaska here, but even if it were Idaho, it'd be the same fly. A purple Egg Sucking Leech.  Gotta love the name. I'm no stranger to that fly, but this man had an intimate knowledge of the thing.  Through several float trips in AK, even 3 full days on the Kvichak, the only fly he ever had on was an ESL.  The SAME ESL.  I've been known to tell a few fish stories in my lifetime, but not here.  This man would tie that on, and it'd never come off.  Fast action, slow action didn't matter. At times we'd discuss what was working or in the slow periods what may work. He never made a switch.  I know we are creatures of habit, but this was beyond  habit, this was.... well, I don't know what this was.  So you can imagine my surprise when he sends me an email saying he had a friend tie him up 100 different flies. Who is he going to Will those to?