"What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly..." says Thomas Paine. I respond, "$25? For this?"
I never meant to go to the Rip Curl Pro Bells Beach. Its chunky, cold thing right on the heels of the glorious Gold Coast never got me. The tour is fresh at Snapper. Anything is possible. By Bells we know anything is not possible. That the same names, give or take a few, make it to the quarters, semis and finals year in and year out. It is both way to early to care and just too late to care. The perfect blah.
One year I was cooling my heels in Bondi, having just returned from Coolangatta and happy that I did not have to go to Victoria. Then a little exchange that I had had with Mick Fanning on the North Shore, a few months earlier, erupted onto the front pages of Australia’s papers. “Damn all…” I thought “…now I have to go to Blahs because if I don’t, everyone will think I’m chicken.”
So I went.
My first night I loitered in and around the pub, or whatever it was, where Rip Curl was holding a party. “I can’t believe you are here…” surf industry acquaintences would gasp, and I felt warm inside while responding, “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything.”
Nobody punched me.
The next day, the event was called on and I wandered to the event site. There was some semi-truck trailer operating as a …I couldn’t tell what until I got close. A ticket window. I looked at the board and saw it would cost me $25 dollars to go to the beach and watch professional surfing.
I had never been so incensed in my life.
Usually I would have found some media pass or industry hook-up or something, but I think my media privileges had been revoked at Rip Curl. So I just stood there staring at the ticket board. I literally could not believe they had the audacity to charge money to go to the beach and watch professional surfing. Charge money! To go to the beach! And watch professional surfing! And on Easter of all weeks. I threw a cup at a poster of Mick Fanning and stormed out of the area. I didn’t care if people thought I was a chicken or not. I refused, on principle, to pay money to go the beach and watch professional surfing. I am not a cheap man. I glorify in spending money as quickly as I can on pointless extravagances. Going to the beach and watching professional surfing is not one of those pointless extravagances.
I sometimes think back on that day. Was I in the knee-jerk wrong? Should all surf events charge an entrance fee? Would professional surfing be in a better place if it cost money to see? And then I think “No.”
Also, the aboriginal face painting tradition seems off.
As Chas will not be returning to Bells on principle. I’d like to nominate Beau & I to represent Beachgrit in the media scrum next year. Actually I’d rather cover Chopes… Do they have a Hilton close by?
Would you really like to go? There’s a Meridian close enough to Teahupoo. And Melbourne will clasp you to its fashionable bosom.
I lived in Melbourne for 5 years… But never been to Tahiti! I could sleep in Ricardos board bags on the beach. if it rained Beau could hold large tropical leaves over my head to keep me dry.
With your beard and mal, I think you’d have all the shelter you need.
That Mal died a well overdue death at your ex local 2 minutes into a Semi final… I also shaved for the first time in 4 years last week. That combined with you exposing my secret Malibu riding past, Is having a serious effect on my sense of manliness.
I’ve never quite understood how that place breaks so many boards. For the most part it’s like rolling down a gently sloping, but bumpy driveway on a skateboard.
‘The Washing Machine’ should’ve imbued you with all the manliness you need. That and barking at over enthusiastic tourists.
The aboriginal face painting thing is off In the same way that stupid hipster girls at Coachella wearing war bonnets from one tribe mixed with various body paints from other tribes while not bothering to learn a single word, or a bit of history, from any tribe.
I am sure Australian surfers and fans are no more sophisticated than American festival goers..
If only you’d had some sort of disguise to acquire a media pass without revealing your true identity. Something multicultural, to intrigue the locals with an exotic flair. The attire of a Peruvian hooker, just as an example…
You are so so right. I wish I could turn back the hands of time…
Personally, I would have just donned some camo face paint, a hunting jacket, done an MP and hid in the bushes and watched from there.
opening day sign said $25 – but cost $10. i’d nearly turned around.
To expand on my fellow commentators’ thoughts: a fee is understandable. I have no idea what the local area is like, but here in the US organizers charge to keep out the unwashed masses. If you can pony up $25 chances are you will have less to send on getting trashed and rioting. It would also off set the costs of putting the event on. But I am a man of principal and respect your decision to keep it real. Beaches should be free to all.
I’m guess you skipped the Quiksilver Pro in Long Beach!
Was going to say the exact same thing although that ended on day two or three of the waiting period. Our normal “beach season” ends on Memorial Day.