Taj Burrow retires
Last heat of Burrow's career, and it was the kind of heat that's worth waiting for. The kind that salves the sting of the countless hours wasted. A magnificent display of wave riding ability. 18.76 for Florence to 18.6 for the guy with the bad haircut who's probably shit-can hammer wasted right now.

Parker Reports, Round Three Fiji Pro!

Taj Burrow's last ever heat! Wilko hangs on to ugly yellow jersey!

Round three of Fiji. Kind of bumpy in the morning, cleaning up through the day. Mix of bad and spectacular. Medina started out the day with fire. Caught a million waves. Found some pits, shaved ’em good.

Poor Banting. So humiliating. We all have off days. Doing it on camera’d be the worst. As out of the groove as Medina was in it.

Life’s the worst. Explode your knee rookie year. Come back the next and eat a pile of third round exits. Mr. Paisley Pottz pointed out that our fave polite waiter spent the lay-days on the mainland. Doing his own deal.

Indicative of a poor mental state? Need to get away from the anxiety? Maybe just bored as hell sitting on a white sand beach staring at nothing. I know it sounds dreamy to those of you who’ve never, or rarely, done it. But that shit gets tiresome quick.

Next two heats slowed down bad. Bourez handed Igarashi another early round exit. Payne took out Toledo while the ocean refused to cooperate.

Slater on fire, looking like himself. Guess it just takes good surf to keep the best surfer ever interested. Good bye Jordy.

Conner Coffin fucked up bad. Totally rookie mistake. Had the win in the bag, ate an interference. Uncle Wiggly’s post-heat interview was classic. He’ll take the win. Do better next round.

Things started heating up again during the heat with the lowest combined height measurement.

Keanu dodged a barrel bad, made up for it by going balls to the wall at the next gnarly section, air dropping into obliteration. I dig the diminutive Hawaiian, and he surfed well, but he got seriously upstaged by De Souza. The Brazilian took the win easy, started showboating towards the end.

All I can think of is how funny they’d look, one on the other’s shoulders, trench coat, trying to sneak into an R rated movie.

Italian Ferrari struggled against an in-form Jug Handles Andre. Started to find his feet midway through the heat. Big barrel to deep fading cutty. Earned an even 9, not enough for the front spot. You could see the fire catch as he took a full speed exit from the ski.

Wasn’t enough. Jadson used his priority well. Chased Italo around the lineup, snagged a decent one in the closing minutes. Ferrari forced into a hail mary floater that would’ve been great if he hadn’t come unstuck. Instead he got hammered, took the set on his head, said “Sayonara.”

Kerr/Flores. Two very good backhand barrel riders. Watching Flores from the channel at solid Pipe was one of the most entertaining sessions I’ve seen first hand. But Kerr’s on my fantasy team, even though Rusty tried fucking with us over the whole in competition IV use deal.

Kerr grabbed the lead early with two solid barrels. 7.33 and 6.67. Judges being niggardly with the excellent scores today. Good to see. Leave room for improvement, rather than get excited and paint yourself into a corner.

Flores played catch-up the entire heat. Great barrels, gorgeous backside carving cutbacks, still couldn’t do it. Last second ride made for a bit of a nail biter, but not really. Great ride but not enough.

White Lightning v Melling. I know I’ve harped on it, but it’s fucked that the WSL is allowing Fanning a just-for-fun year. Give him a sabbatical, that’s great. But allowing him to cherry pick events, and guaranteeing an injury wildcard for next year, reeks of favoritism. “You’re a draw so we’ll bend over backwards to accommodate you.” Anyone else blows off shitty events ‘cuz they aren’t feeling it they get fined. But not Mick. He even gets seeded as though he’s on tour, rather than a wildcard. Which is what he is.

Mick won.

Been waiting eagerly for Taj versus Double-J Flo. Best barrel rider in the world. Much loved hero on his retirement swing. Sure enough, JJ pulls into a keg on his first wave, gets an 8.17. Full speed jet assist dismount out the back. I hope everyone starts doing them. They look fun, and someone will eventually mistime it for a spectacular disaster. Taj added an, in my opinion slightly over-scored 8, to his previous 2. JJ came right behind with stylish dreamboat arm drag. 6.17.

Taj answered with a gorgeous 9.2. Long barrel, linking turn to turn to the channel.

Back and forth beauty.

The crowd was on Taj’s side, but Florence was amazing.

Last heat of Burrow’s career, and it was the kind of heat that’s worth waiting for. The kind that salves the sting of the countless hours wasted. A magnificent display of wave riding ability. 18.76 for Florence to 18.6 for the guy with the bad haircut who’s probably shit-can hammer wasted right now.

I had to do a radio show so I missed the next two heats. I got to talk about illegal TVRs and how people can screw over the landlords!

Ace Buchan beat Pupo, which is great for my languishing fantasy team. Then Wilko beat Muniz to hang on to his ugly yellow jersey.

But JJ and Taj! Amazing! Magic! Sensual! Velvet! Goodbye sweet man! Fare thee well!

That’s it for the day. If anyone on Namotu is reading this, I got a $50 bounty on a picture of him passed out at the bar.


Gabriel Medina Fiji Pro 2106
Kelly may've flamenco all over Jordy Smith, but Gabriel Medina did the same thing on Matt Banting. I love that sweet sonofabitch! | Photo: WSL

Fiji Pro: Slater’s Flamenco Stomp!

After eight lay-days, the Fiji Pro is back! Kelly stomps Jordy!

A warrior Wednesday morning sun pierces the pall of eight Fiji Pro lay days. Laughter shrills the morning air. It’s on, as they say.

A new swell. A little close together. A little hard to pick. Do you sit up on the ledge and find a roll-in, or on the inside?

Round three begins,

Gabriel Medina versus Quicksilver’s number one team rider Matt Banting. Gabriel’s hazel eyes open like a little kid at the four-to-six-foot waves, and he reflexively swoops onto the sets like a ravenous baby on a nipple. Fourteen points to four.

Michel Bourez and Kanoa Igarashi promenade up and down the lineup, doing very little except exercising their arms, the highest wave of the heat, Michel’s 4.17

Dusty Payne and Filipe Toledo occupy a similar role. Dusty wins, his high a 4.50. The heat is enlivened when the commentator Ron Blakey tries to goad Ross Williams into criticism of Filipe.

“Filipe’s always under the microscope,” says Ron. “Definitely not on the attack here, like Snapper, Trestles, Brazil, Portugal.”

Ross bites. “He has the fluid speed but with all the girth and size you want…power.”

The predictable shock of disappointment gives way to Kelly Slater’s flamenco stomp of Jordy Smith.

“Kelly has Jordy in a headlock,” says Ross, even as Kelly occasionally struggles to control the ultra-senstivity of the Webber banana, ridden as a quad.

After the heat, Kelly is philosophical.

“When you’re the guy struggling you get the moral support,” he says, adding, “I don’t think we ever get to a place where we want to be.”

Examine the first heats here!

And see Conner Coffin interfere with Wiggoly Dantas!

Rage and the theatrical Brazilian!

What about him makes us xenophobic?

I generally think it very funny when rage rains down upon the heads of Brazilian surfers for their exaggerated claims, their artful post wave celebrations. The watery samba has never really bothered me much. If anything, I think they should push it further. They should take note of Victor Cruz’s hips or Cher’s arms and really perform.

But last night, watching the NBA finals game 5, I finally felt the rage for myself. Anderson Varajão plays for the world champion Golden State Warriors. Last year he played for their opponents the Cleveland Cavaliers. He is tall, 6’10” with a sweet jump shot but is most famous for his flops. His wild, artificial body quakes that are aimed at getting foul calls from the referees.

Oh how they annoy! His face draws into a mask of bewildered pain. Mouth grimacing, eyes little slits of pain. He rolls on the ground. He holds his head. He goes into full spasms all for the smallest brush.

And the rage bubbles in my heart!

“That fucking Brazilian! That fucking fake Brazilian! He never even got touched!”

Now, what about his Brazilian-ness makes it so bad? Why does it have anything to do with my rage? When white basketballers and black basketballers flop I find it cheap and tawdry but don’t hold it against their nationality. But when this tall Brazilian flops I want to drop giant bombs on São Paulo. The announcers, usually restrained, even tee off on him!

The same in surf. Matty Wilko’s claims are very much worse, I think, than Gabe Medina’s but it is Gabe who draws the ire.

What about the theatrical Brazilian makes us xenophobic? Could unlocking this mystery bring about world peace?

Kelly Slater Wave Company to San Diego!

Maybe! Will you go?

Oh it’s not for sure but what does that do for you? Me? I live in the neighborhood and it does absolutely nothing. Zero. Zip. No-thang. San Diego county is basically one giant wave pool. Not the barreling type. But, you know, there’s almost always waves somewhere.

The tank is included in one of five proposals for a re-imagined downtown San Diego and let’s read the bit from KS Wave Co.’s general manager!

Kelly Slater Wave Company is very pleased to exclusively be part of the McWhinney + DJM team’s vision for the redevelopment of the Seaport Village site in San Diego. As surfers, we are aware of San Diego and its long rich history with the sport of surfing.

Kelly Slater Wave Company is an innovative wave technology company, the first company to develop a formula that combines cutting edge science, engineering and design. KSWC has created the longest, open-barrel wave that mimics the sought after surfing experiences found in nature. These high-performance training centers can host top athletes, where they can perfect their talent on the best man-made wave. KSWC also partners with developers to create a unique experience for amateur surfers, adventure enthusiasts and families to discover the joy of board sports in a recreational destination that embodies an active outdoor lifestyle that emphasizes exercise and play.

We look forward to participating in a project that engages the community and creates an environment where people can interact and better understand waves and the ocean.


Noah Grimmet

General Manager

Yawn etc. but you know what this news does? Proves my point is what. If you’ve been around me at any point over the last few months you’ll know my line is that the WSL World Tour is a loss leader to sell these pools to municipalities using taxpayer dollars. I bet Mr. Noah Grimmet has crafted hundreds of these letters for every town with a redevelopment project in the works from Saint Louis to Port Lucie. He points to the tour and says, “See? Surfing. Want surfing to come to Des Moines? Tourism. (ShhhhhhhhhhhhhhCocaine).”

Genius? Yes. Both Kelly Slater and me. Are.

Will you surf it, though, or will you stick with Windansea?

Mason Ho LIcense to Chill
Don't look down, baby!

Movie: Mason Ho’s Dry Reef Hula!

Episode 5, License to Chill… Rock Lobsters!

More Mason! Yes! More shallow hell to the right of Rockpiles.

(Watch episode five, License to Chill, Rock Lobsters here…)

Wonder if it’ll get crowded next Winter? Shouldn’t. Too gnarly. Probably will. Kids are gonna show up, living the NS dream on Daddy’s dime.

I’m sure the lifeguards are gonna enjoy scraping wannabe Rick Kanes off the reef. Patch up some boo-boos.

I have a buddy who played drums for Guttermouth. Lived the punk rock dream. Toured the world, made a little money.

Great guy, love him to death. Sold out out hard though. Does SEO stuff these days. Makes a killer living helping to ruin the internet.

I’m spending my day learning about the 24 hours of Le Mans. Some crazy car race where dudes drive 200 mph for an entire day. Batshit stuff.

A website is paying me to write about it. They like my rambling nonsense contest coverage. Want me to do something similar about cars. I told ’em, “I don’t know shit about cars, much less racing.”

They said, “That’s fine. Here’s some money.”

I said, “Right on. Are you sure you want stories about my wife sucking me off? Because that’s what you’re gonna get.”

They said, “That’s probably a bit much.”

Fine by me. I’ll just write about butt stuff instead.