Oh if you can find your way to a computer or phone or iPad or Smart TV then do! The Fiji Pro is on and Cloudbreak is perfect. Not even hyperbole!
Kelly Slater almost scored a perfect heat total. He took off late toward the end and shattered his board and even though he had the field combo’d let a barrage of F-words fly! “Fucking fuck fuck fuck!” he said or something much like that.
And that’s how good it is! I’m glad that the WSL doesn’t have a delay because otherwise they could have scrubbed Kelly’s swears. But his swears were like sweet honey! Like cocaine wine!
Click here and watch the rest of the day! Your boss will understand.
A poisonous yellow-bellied sea snake has made appearanced again on California beaches. The environmental group Surfrider Foundation made the startling discovery 30 miles south of Los Angeles at Bolsa Chica State Beach during a beach cleanup. They belive snakes appearing due California shores due to warm waters that are attributed to El Nino.
The snakes are highly poisonous , but their small mouths and fangs make it difficult for them to bite humans Initial sightings of the toxic snake happened back in October on Silverstrand Beach in Oxnard. Yellow-bellied snakes are the most wide-ranging in the world. Most reported bites are by fishermen, said Pauly. There’s never been a recorded human fatality.
“These snakes spend their entire lives eating small fish, and it’s not like a rattle snake that can open its mouth really wide… So it’s very difficult for them to bite things that are very large,” he said.
The aquatic snakes tend to live in open ocean waters.
“They have an extremely modified body form. So basically it turns their entire body into one long sort of fin,” said Pauly. “They’re really good at swimming in open water but this particular species can barely move when it’s on land.”
Your fins are bench banged out now and you are frustrated that I scared you like that so you begin putting them back in and that is almost as frustrating as taking them out and so you are glaring at me.
I take another sip of my coffee and say, “There’s never been a recorded human fatality. There’s also a first time for everything.”
I tried watching that Kolohe bench banging video again myself and FCS made it private! I’m literally dying and not from a poisonous snake bite but from laughter!
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.
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.
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!
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?