5 Dumb Questions to Ask Pro Surfers!

Can I have your board? Can I tell you about my experiences with concave?

I won’t even begin to pretend that, at various points in my career, I haven’t felt overwhelmed, subjugated, under spell, by high-end pro surfers.

It’s a fame thing. I get it. I see it.

The way a pro surfer will swing in to my little town and his acolytes will follow, always arranged in a subconscious hierarchy in a line as they march to a bar, to a restaurant, the number one pal half-a-step behind the pro star, number five at the back of the pack. The way their heads are turned away when the dinner bill comes and the high-end pro surfer, depending upon his generosity rating, either discreetly slips his card into the leather billfold or uselessly searches for…someone… to make a token gesture at payment.

Can you imagine being surrounded by yes-men and dumb, beautiful girls who’ll fall into a deep squat just because of your fame, even if you’re paunchy and charmless. No one but the famous can appreciate the power of true harlotry.

But, as life ain’t all cake, fame isn’t always singing with seduction and worship.

Can you imagine the dumb, intrusive questions y’have to live with?

Small price, sure, and yes if only, but tell me you would be worn thin if, every day, every contest you were asked:

Can I have your board? 

I travel as what is loosely termed a “journalist” on surf trips. Sometimes I have to write something, sometimes shoot a film, sometimes I just surf and observe. And, every single day, a pro will have someone engage ‘em in conversation, be all pally, and, before you know it… can I have your board? Who asks such a thing? Would you walk up to Leo Decap and say, nice 100-foot boat, can I have? Yeah, I get that pros get free boards, and most ‘em do leave most of ‘em around the world, for kids, for the families they stay with, but why would they wanna give away a sled to someone who was non-existent in their lives five minutes previous? Say what you want about pros, but I’m always amazed by their patience, by their kindness in refusal.

Is that a single-double concave into a slight vee through the tail? 

It ain’t a secret that light concaves and vee through the tail are invisible to everyone except shapers in fluorescent-lit shaping bays. But, when you’re a pro surfer, everyone wants to talk design. They’ll grab your board, spin it on its side, run a cupped hand along the rail, say things like: Blockier than I thought. Or, I’m guessing this is 32 litres. How much do you weigh? And, most painfully, the fan will engage in deep philosophical discussion about the merits of single and double concave and vee in the tail, and how it has impacted upon their own surfing.

Can I have a tail-pad? 

I know one pro surfer, helluva of a guy, helluva surfer, and he says how difficult it is to stop his pals from raiding every tail-pad delivery. Think about it. A high-end pro mows through a hundred or so boards a year. That’s a real big box of pads. Now imagine all the times he gets asked for one of his tail-pads. My pal says he always ends up buying at least half-a-dozen at 60 bucks a shot. I know, don’t feel sorry for the millionaire sonofabitch. But, fuck.

Who are you sponsored by? 

There he stands, our dazzling hero, in head to thong Billabong, with VonZipper glasses, wearing a Nixon watch and holding a surfboard that confirms his employers.

Do you have a wife-girlfriend? 

The dumbest question! No!