Furious response to former pro's criticism of Slater's surfboards…
Has it really been a week since Kelly Slater put an old Cocoa Beach pal to the sword for saying unkind things about his surfboards?
A brief recap.
Kelly wrote a nice post on Instagram asking his two million followers if they’d ever felt the greatness of other surfers within them as they surfed an iconic wave, in this case Jeffreys Bay. Curren flow, Terry Fitz speed lines and so on.
Followers wrote delightful things in response, such as, you should write a book, Kelly, perfect description, this is how every surfer feels about you etc.
One surfer who wasn’t as elevated was the Florida surfer and Lost team rider Sean Volland, an old acquaintance of Kelly’s. Sean said he “truly hoped” Kelly would win the contest but doubted it was possible because of what he regarded as Kelly’s poor equipment.
An argument ensued.
Well the story went off like a whistling gale. Party hats were blown off. Plump little men went to war in the commentary section.
And, there, amid it all was Sean Volland, a very good surfer and coach from Cocoa Beach.
Yesterday, I was at home petting my two cavoodles and eating ham I’d pulled from a blisterpack using little toothpicks, when Matt Biolos sent me an SMS from Florida asking if I wanted to talk to “Slater’s nemesis.”
I called and the phone was handed over to Sean, who is forty eight years old, three years older than Kelly. I wore headphones and was precise in my transcription of the phone call which was just as well because Mr Volland would threaten me, shortly after, with the rape of one of my cavoodles, and my own cuckolding.
In the muddled call, where Sean’s thoughts shot all over the place, I learned:
“I’ve been threatened by people from every seven points of the globe. I just think that he sucks on his boards.”
His boards look like shit. He couldn’t win in eight-foot conditions. He couldn’t beat John John, Filipe, Frederick, that’s just the way I feel. Maybe he’ll regroup. I didn’t curse him. I’ve been dealing with internet cursing, people are hating me, threatening my life.
“Slater wet my bed. A bunch of the best surfers, him and his brother Sean, used to hang out at my house. I grew up on acres. Kelly was eight years old.”
“I don’t want be vilified anymore. I’m cursed in my home town.”
“I went to kindergarten with his older brother Sean. We were on the same super team (Shags, Dick Catri). Then we all split ways in our late teens. Kelly went with Kechle and Quiksilver; I went with Spectrum and Billabong.”
“I haven’t spoken to him in probably twelve years. I think I saw him at the gas station. I see his brothers Stephen and Sean on a regular basis. Cocoa Beach is a small town. We all piss on each other.”
“I never though it would blow up like this. I didn’t want my fifteen seconds of internet fame. I didn’t think it would viral. I was just telling someone I knew from a long time ago that he might want to change his game.”
“I mean, in this town, no one can give a rat’s arse about Kelly Slater. He doesn’t get followed around by security and it is what it is. I said what I said. I don’t want to start an internet fight.”
“It caused a shit ton of problems. I still believe what I said was right. His boards look like shit. He couldn’t win in eight-foot conditions. He couldn’t beat John John, Filipe, Frederick, that’s just the way I feel. Maybe he’ll regroup. I didn’t curse him. I’ve been dealing with internet cursing, people are hating me, threatening my life. I don’t have voodoo dolls. I don’t stick pin in voodoo dolls. I’m not a black magic guru.”