The Hawaiian world champion John John Florence wins
Drug Aware Pro at Margaret River…
How do you like your truth? You like it
sweet and light, dancing around like a butterfly in the morning
light gently pollinating supplicant flowers, a fairytale, a
religion. Isn’t it illusions that make us happy, that make life
worthwhile? That bind us together. Why even truth? Why not
untruth?
I only ask because I want to believe a certain story, even if it
is illusion, but truth keeps dropping out of the sky on me like a
200 pound gorilla.
Like that feeding frenzy, “surface action” dropped out of the
sky during the Kolohe/Filipe semi-final, disrupting the WSL tourism
promotion.
Australian salmon, Arripis Trutta, no relation to the
Pacific or Atlantic salmon, terrible eating for humans, but
universally recognised by science as the favourite food of the
Great White shark.
It was one of two phenomena which could defeat John John. A
force of nature, the other, himself. Putting an arm-bar on a slab
of West Australian limestone reef at speed could’ve taken him out.
No-one else competing could have. Other surfers seemed irritants in
the way of watching John do his thing. He found a way to up the
normal conservative percentage from Pottz’ favoured 75 to 85-90% ,
by carving turns harder, at sharper angles, with greater variety
and rotation. He embarrassed the field this tournament.
You can’t remember anything else from this comp can you? Maybe
Owen wearing that wave on the head. Maybe some sour grapes from our
favourite Assyrian conspiracy theorist (Kelly). John John blacked
out the sun. The rest was a boring distraction.
Hemingway, in his extended essay for Life magazine about
bullfighting titled The Dangerous Summer was
revulsed by the half-bull, the showy passes that lacked emotion and
dignity. He would’ve turned his back on the surfing this morning at
Margaret River for similar reasons. Except John Florence.
Question for the WSL and Dirk Ziff: what if John has the Title
wrapped up by Tahiti? Pull the pin to save money? A slam dunk title
by California is not a fantasy.
The quarter-finals were dull. Owen couldn’t catch a wave and
lost a fin on the only one he did. Everyone bar John surfed flat,
off the tail. Hemingway, in his extended essay for Life magazine
about bullfighting titled The Dangerous Summer was
revulsed by the half-bull, the showy passes that lacked emotion and
dignity. He would’ve turned his back on the surfing this morning at
Margaret River for similar reasons. Except John Florence. Like
Ronnie Blakey, John’s surfing would’ve moved him to tears.
Jordy was the only one who could’ve bought game to Florence but
he was cruelled by the judges’ massive over-score for Kolohe’s
tube-rides which left him in combination. Tube-rides were like dog
shit on your shoe at Snapper. At Margies they were paid like Saudi
Arms dealers. Which is to say, big-time.
Half-hour intermission digression. Have you read the
Russian masterpiece Crime and Punishment by the
incomparable Doestoevsky? A young man, Raskolnikov, commits the
perfect crime and convinces himself that his motive is to benefit
mankind.
The novel tracks his journey through living with guilt and lies
and the extent of the psychological fortress he has to build to
endure it. Could you imagine a victimless crime in surfing,
witnessed by many, covered up and a completely false story erected
to propel the perpetrator/victim onwards, into recovery and
redemption?
Would such a thing even be a crime?
Even if the lies erected eventually became truth in the minds of
those who relied upon them? If they became some strange, external
foreign land they had never travelled to. What would be the
value of truth in such a situation? Or even of digging for
it? Wouldn’t the illusion have more value as a whole? Wouldn’t it
allow, as Crime and Punishment so beautifully ends by “the
account of a man’s gradual renewal, the account of his gradual
regeneration, his gradual transition from one world to another, his
acquaintance with a new, hitherto completely unknown reality”.
The Final. I killed another ten minutes before
the final trying to establish whether Margies was getting the chop
next year. Surfing WA who are the intermediaries responsible for
the licence refused to comment, saying it “would be conjecture” to
make any comment. If it was on, you’d confirm wouldn’t
you?
The difference in performance between Florence and Andino –
Florence and everyone else – was deeper than an Andean
valley. It’s hard to see how it can be bridged this year, if and
this is the big If, Florence stays healthy.
I emailed 2017 Nobel Prize Winner for Literature and WSL media
genius Dave Prodan to ask him if Margs was on the tour roster next
year. There was no response at time of writing.
A four-point spread favouring Florence on the opening exchange
in rare, glassed-out conditions seemed fair enough. Combination
following the opening was also realpolitik. Andino’s top
turns looked trebly and low bit rate. An Mp3 played out of an
iPhone compared to Florences’ full Marshall stack.The difference in
performance between Florence and Andino – Florence and
everyone else – was deeper than an Andean valley. It’s hard to see
how it can be bridged this year, if and this is the big If,
Florence stays healthy.
Generational surfing speaks to a perfect embodiment as to how a
wave can and should be surfed. Curren had it, Dane had it. The only
unimpeachable justification for Pro Surfing is to discover it and
showcase it.
John John Florence has had it this whole event. His surfing
alone justifies Margaret River as a CT tour stop. It almost
justifies the whole tour.