Day 2, QuikPro: “Slater looked so sad!”

And Julian Wilson looked drugged and uninterested…

What if he’s right?

Nostalgia is a bitch, even in the great game of surf journalism, but things used to be looser.

Truly.

We’d cover events on the ground, not the webcast. Stab mag used to send two journalists to an event. This was before the WSL tightened everything up and made you sign your life away to write anything about anyone. To enter the contest area now you have to accept that “damaging the WSL brand” could see you evicted by hired goons.

Who the fuck needs that noise? Not this peacenik.

But I needed to answer a question and the webby wouldn’t do. To preface, like you, I like to mix my pro surfing with politics, especially the American presidential variety.

Now, doesn’t it seem sometimes like the schizoid polarised American debate deals with completely separate realities, different Americas? And hasn’t the commentary on pro surfing become captive to the same forces?

Even here, on our beloved Grit, there’s an orthodoxy that pro surfing is doomed to fail, the WSL is a heartbeat away from total business oblivion. And yet Paul Speaker is all over every mainstream business publication spruiking pro surfing as the great sporting success story of our era, at the vanguard of the online age. A live streaming miracle.

I woke in my car down by the railroad tracks in South Tweed, off Broadway, cheap bookstores, porn shop, few grimy ice addicts looking for a morning coffee. Grim. Less than a mile from the blue water and the Superbank.

Yes, in the words of economist JK Galbraith: “Out of the pecuniary pressures and fashions of the time businesses cultivate their own version of the truth…..with no necessary relation to reality”.

But fuck, I thought, as I heard an update of the QuikPro on national radio, what if Speaker is right.

What if he’s right. 

I woke in my car down by the railroad tracks in South Tweed, off Broadway, cheap bookstores, porn shop, few grimy ice addicts looking for a morning coffee. Grim. Less than a mile from the blue water and the Superbank.

Walked through the contest site unmolested, no pros fronted me. Watched Filipe Toledo walk out to the rocks. Online and in the latest Hurley ad he looks like the kid last picked for indoor soccer but he’s put on twenty pounds of muscle, on the legs and buttocks. He looks like a Romanian gymnast intravenously fed a diet of calf blood and pure Testosterone.

Out on the rocks near the jump off next to a weird gaggle of photogs. Non surfers. A guy in English premier league soccer kit, a sixties acid rock throwback who looked like Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now and a stunning red head in a cat-woman bodysuit.

The acid throwback was an old pro by the name of Tommy Campion. We exchanged business cards, as gentlemen do.

“What do you think of the health of this pro surfing thing Tommy? Ascending or descending?” I asked.

“It’s one of the most exciting sports ever, it’s so interesting. The talent is thick. It’s only gunna get bigger and bigger”. That’s what he said. Not on anyone’s payroll.

What if he’s right?

Cat-woman said she found the passion and the talent intoxicating. She loved to be close to the action. We got moved on by the drone operators, much to Tommy’s disgust.

The crowd thickened for Kelly. Sweat flowed freely down every cleavage, into every orifice. The surf looked better than it did on the webby. Kelly’s board looked as bad as it did on the webby. Worse. It looked as drab and depressing as an English winter.

I watched the heat beachside with Stuey Kennedy’s manager. Black clouds piled up against the Queensland sun. Rain mixed with sweat, no-one moved. Stu lives in a modest brick and tile house, where he can often be found mowing the lawn. He was riding a Slater design, well, Dan Thomson-designed Firewire.

The crowd thickened for Kelly. Sweat flowed freely down every cleavage, into every orifice. The surf looked better than it did on the webby. Kelly’s board looked as bad as it did on the webby. Worse. It looked as drab and depressing as an English winter.

“He needs to drop the hammer”, said Stu’s manager.

Stuey dropped the hammer. The live impact dwarfed the webcast, the intent was visceral. Bosoms and buttocks jiggled in pleasure, grown men threw their fists in the air.

“If they don’t give that a fucking nine, I’m going to climb that tower and rip their fucking hearts out”, said the manager.  They gave him a nine-five.

And that was it. Slater dead last in the first contest of the Year.

Later, like Nick Carroll suggested, I listened to Kelly’s post-loss presser, prepared to take it at face value. He said he felt loosey-goosey and that you can’t base anything on a contest result. But his eyes looked so sad. He looked done. Like he’d based everything on a contest result. Long way back at 44 from last place at Snapper with Bells, Margies and Brazil ahead.

At least he got a return on investment by having Stuey on the Slater designs – didn’t they look great under his feet Chas! – as his victor.

In pissing rain, I drove back to Byron Bay to get a conversation with one of the most knowledgeable people on both pro surfing and Stuey Kennedy, Lennox kingpin James “Taipan” Woods.

It went like this:

Taipan: “It’s very surprising Kelly didn’t ride that same style of board, that Stuey rode. You could see how lively that board looked for Stuey. That board he rode looked bad. I guess he feels something in it, something we can’t see.

Longtom: Is it time for Kelly to shuffle off stage?

Taipan: I don’t think so. I’m sure if we get some swell he’ll fire….last year was so bad.

Longtom: If your performance is reliant on good waves….then you’re cooked, right?

Taipan: It’ll be interesting to see if he even goes to Bells.

Longtom: Early Easter, almost guaranteed to be shit surf at Bells. Let’s be honest, unless the surf is pumping Kelly is looking ordinary.

Taipan: I think that’s due to what he’s riding, I really do. He’s trying to prove some kind of point, but he hasn’t ridden any Tomo’s in any events. I think he needs to try that, what he’s riding now isn’t working.

Longtom: Why wouldn’t he be on the Tomo’s though, that’s his board label?

Taipan: I know it’s weird.

Longtom: In terms of pressure, how did you think Stuey responded, he got kinda lowballed on his first two waves?

Taipan: He responded well to that, but that’s the type of character he is though. He can rise in those moments, he did at Sunset.

Longtom: How would you describe his character?

Taipan: Stubborn. He’s got belief. He’s unique, for sure.

Longtom: How do you think he’ll go against the Brazilians, cause they’ll be ferocious in the water?

Taipan: He’s pretty confrontational. He’s had blow-ups heaps of times on the QS. He won’t back down at all. He’ll tell you what he’s thinking. He’s very upfront.

And the rest?

Julian: Looked drugged and uninterested.

Jordy: Oops, there goes another year.

JJF: JJF and Bede Durbidge? Is that the best duo since Torvill and Dean?

Ryan Callinan: Did I tell you this kid was the best rookie on tour?

Conner Coffin: I was wrong, he looks so much better in the flesh.

As to the question, is Speaker right? Is Pro surfing on the ascendancy?

Heart says no, head says yes. At least in Australia, the heartland of pro surfing. Shit is more mainstream than tennis. Now, about these “athletes” who come out of the off-season looking like condoms stuffed with walnuts.