The hero of Australian surfing on his greatest journey yet!
You are well-aware, by now, that the 2018 Bells Beach Classic is Mick Fanning’s last stand. The Coolangatta local and 3 x World Champion, 37, will no longer don a colorful singlet nor will his rich baritone fill a World Surf League branded microphone again. It is almost over but not quite as Mick will paddle out against stablemate Owen Wright in the quarterfinals when competition next begins.
Breathless superlatives will flow, each and every one obviously deserved, as Michael Eugene Fanning is hurtled toward full sainthood.
And I must say that I have never seen anything like this in all my days upon this earth. In order to achieve full sainthood it is a well-known fact that a holy man or woman must first die and then three miracles must occur in his or her name. The process can take anywhere from six years to hundreds of them and is by no means assured even for the holiest. But Mick is special and the hero of Australian surfing has already been marked with his first miracle.
Yes and as reported by the Daily Mail, Mick’s ex-wife, wedding industry titan Karissa Dalton, not only watched him surf on the WSL webcast and not only cheered him on but posted an image of the affair to Instagram. Let us read for it is meet and right so to do.
They ended their relationship in January 2016 after eight years of marriage.
And despite ending things romantically, Karissa Dalton and Mick Fanning are still on friendly terms.
On Tuesday, Karissa took to Instagram stories to cheer on her ex-husband during a surfing competition, alongside best friend Pia Miller.
Karissa shared a photo of her and Pia drinking martinis as they watched Mick compete on a laptop.
‘Go Mick!’ Karissa captioned the photo, while Pia shared the same image and wrote: ‘Go Mick you good thing!’
Karissa and Mick have remained on good terms, despite that the surfer is believed to have moved on with American model Breeana Randall.
Lending her support! Karissa shared a photo of her and Pia drinking martinis as they watched Mick compete on a laptop.
A true miracle without any shade of doubt. Turning on the World Surf League’s webcast, listening intently to Martin “Pottz” Potter and Joe Turpel, watching an ex muscle turns through chubby runners… one down, two to go.
And I have written a poem to celebrate. Would you permit me to publish?
Remember those walls I built
Well, baby, they’re tumbling down
And they didn’t even put up a fight
They didn’t even make a sound
I found a way to let you win
But I never really had a doubt
Standing in the light of your halo
I got my angel now
It’s like I’ve been awakened
Every rule I had you break it
It’s the risk that I’m taking
I ain’t never gonna shut you out
Everywhere I’m looking now
I’m surrounded by your embrace
Baby, I can see your halo
You know you’re my saving grace
You’re everything I need and more
It’s written all over your face
Baby, I can feel your halo
Pray it won’t fade away
I can feel your halo (halo) halo
I can see your halo (halo) halo
I can feel your halo (halo) halo
I can see your halo (halo) halo
Hit me like a ray of sun
Burning through…
The Pulitzer Award selection committee should be contacting you soon Chas. The combo of reporting on WSL set-ups and the poetry together?… The Pulitzer loses all credibility if they’re not at the Beach Grit doorstep this morning waiting for you.
…said your mom
what will aussies do if Mick gets a huge pay cheque from ireland to surf for them in the olympics? dont think anyone will batter an eye if micro hall suddenly returns… but, if aussie mick pulls out a UK passport and dons an irish hat & blazer, will the sun rise in the west?
Why does this comment, of all the actual good ones, show up in my disqus profile? Fucking algorithms suck
Mate, Mick ain’t no Kanoa.
Pull ya fukkn head in.
I’ll be there representing Nepal
Can we pause to reflect upon the fact that, but for a couple of random and/or borderline criminal incidents (Joel’s broken ankle at Kerama’s, Mick’s miracle Pipe roll-in), Joel’s got two world titles and Mick’s got one.
Get over it
“Chubby runners” – that’s great, Chas !
Can I use that ?
Las Quatros Milagros Santo MC Fanning
She could not get the constant playing of movie in her head. After his powerful punch dazed the seven gilled apex predator of the high (semi low) and pelagic seas. He told her he had done a underwater round house kick taught to him by the Factual Chuck Norris in an epic meeting that included another Hero, a Mister T. Mick, like the Mighty Thor, was graced with a miracle. For normal’s sake, any bar that had Mister T and Chuck Norris would explode like the volcanic ecstasy of Pia’s yearning if she got her wish, got her man, a true Mount Saint Helens. But because of Mick, the bar had held its ground even as Kelly Slaters graced the three with his baldness. And Laird could only stare, mouthbreathing, reduced to a menstrual cycle and surfing tampons in the awesomeness of martial skill, surfing prowess, true board selection, stylish dancing, and pure badassness with hip hop’s finest gold.
She loved this next movie, playing in her head. He had given up his trusty surfboard, giving the apex predator something to play with, to confuse. In his God given and intended wisdom, Mick threw the blade of foam and fiberglass, undoing the leg rope in one move. The experienced shark, who had over 100 large rope buoy kills, could sear through this to reach the net full of fish or the human inside. Today would be no different. However, the miracle was the board. It held on, drew his attention, beating back evolution’s razor blades. Despite all the delay, the inner city police response time it took for the water patrol to pluck her man from certain watery doom. The shark would be getting a chordatic meal tonight.
And lo! The Surfboard. The very same one that lead to the victory in times past would be the story for this miracle. In the year of Our Lord 2015 though the passing of his older brother lingered over him, looming as Pipeline held on to its morning sickness, Mick was strong. On that fateful day, the GOAT steeled himself for an easy victory against the Australian. Though Mick had taken down another hero of Hawaii and Pipe Veteran, JOB, the GOAT could simply do whatever it took to float the judge’s boat with his GOAT skill. The miracle grew. He held on despite, the King being the King of the Castle. The timing of God was intense. With only 2 minutes remaining a better wave, but not quite set but goonies R good enough. The hero dropped in, backdoor, and crushed the whitewash, bypassing it. He found the tube and fed from it twice. A 6 point Oh.
Normally the GOAT could only be slain by getting triple 7’s or more tens than he could count. But the riding in my six oh gave the saint the lead. Miracle Max clapped his hands from the stands. Princess Buttercup and Ho raved. And Mick realized what he had known, a truth that God had only revealed to Andy Irons, he knew what it was like to be Kissed By God.
“I just felt the sun come out,” Mick said. “Usually when the sun comes out, a wave comes. I’m almost in tears every time I paddle out. [I’m] just going through waves of emotion.” Another miracle would take place, Mick displaying his emotions while still displaying superhuman strength to hold it down, melted
the stone cold, iron hearted, ever professional Rosy Hodge, let out her inner girl and cried before going “Back to you Ronnie . . .” This lead the meltdown of pride of the diamond toughness that is Kelly Slaughter. And humbled by Saint Mick, he honored Mick by giving Mick’s mother a hug.
The blue Hawaiian seas, seen from their high balcony did not help as she felt her mind drifting to child bearing with him. She felt the wettening, but screamed out “Tyson! Hurry Mister! Mullane!” And she poured out her love onto him, Tyson would never know the difference. Still though the stabbing (magazine) pains of regret for loving her homegirl’s man. And Mick would reject her, the saint would stay true to his waifu. But the stronger blow was she did not rush quick to Mick when Offspring’s Come Out and Play / Keep Em Separate came on the world set list. Even then Mick would not, out of respect.
Her heart was torn, when he found love with the American. She was perfect. A model with a heart of gold, as she was a model and a humanitarian. She was blonde, the most hated color of non natural blonde beautiful girls and ladies worldwide. Only gingers seemed impervious, possibly due to their thickened skin from a million barbs, enhanced by being a publically known and blessed with paparazzi. If only the United States could copy the ginger’s defense, there would be your impeccible Star Wars defense system. And then came the next miracle. Mick possessed such a defense. Worldwide, all women had tried to penetrate and attain the MMistress achievement. But none. He stayed true to the Olivia Wilde look alike wife.
‘I’m a TV STARRR! I’m HOTTER!!” but Mick saw none of that. It irrated her she was from CALIFORNIA. Most me wished they all could be California . . . He saw something in her that drew him in, more than her beauty, more than her valley accent. More. Only a saint could see through to her heart. Pia realized there was a chance with the aloof Kelly Slater. But reports dug at her heart. As a true Ozlandian, she, like nearly all of them, was inexorably linked with surfing. And surfing bore a symboiotic relationship with those who made the boards and Kelly had disowned the shapers by choosing the birthing method of choice by iron womb and test tube.
Saint Mick would not. And she could never betray her countryman like that. No way. Not Pia Miller. She was much to classy for that. In honor of Saint Mick, she would never.
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Are you kidding me? My fucking battery died just scrolling thru that total bullocks
He’s off his meds again.
I beg to differ.
Double hand fulls.
fwiw – I sometimes enjoy reading this sort of free form crap.
Gives me break from trolling.
I just want him to speak properly. Just once.
He’ll certainly have a lot more time to spend in here as WPS!!!
I look forward to it.
I love the pome, but from whose point of view?
Who is the I?
Longtom you could ask Beyoncé and Sony Music, owners of the intellectual property of her song Halo .Chas you cheeky bugger .
How dare Beyonce steal your pome! Lawyer up Chas!
Google can be a cruel tool . I am still pissed at David Bowie and Brian Eno for writing
“ I , I wish you could swim
Like the Dolphins
Like Dolphins can swim „
before I thought of it in 77 .
Don’t worry Jimmy, you’re a Hero to us
Just for one day.
Just the tip
…or so he promised…
True Chas, the fluffing is out of control. I cringed a little as Pete Mel (to whom I generally like listening) waxed on about what an amazing role model Mick is.
But Mick’s a just regular surfer, pretty much, right? Okay guy if you don’t get between him and what he wants (usually a wave you’re already riding that he feels entitled to), and if you don’t prod his sensitive ego (lest he flip out into an anti-Semitic tirade)?
He’s been through a lot of grief in life though, so hard to shit on the guy. And the world as he knows it has been kissing his ass since before he developed a stable personality. So he certainly could be worse. Maybe coming out of the pro-surfing system as an average human being is actually pretty fucking impressive? I’m sure I’d have been a full-bore horrid monster of a person if I had the same experience …..
Compared to another 3 x world champion I think Mick has turned out pretty bloody good.
Yeah, Tom Curren is a hot mess …
So there are two photos on this article.
One has no credits, and it is the main one. Where does it come from? Who shot it? Did you pay for it?
The other one was grabbed from IG by the Daily Mail, and they put a copyright sign explaining where it comes from.
When are you guys going to start valuing photographers instead of just grabbing things?
Maybe someone needs to start an online magazine and just copy content from the combined lameness of all this surf “writers”….
Shoosh mate
I hope you’ve brought this up with the Daily Mail as well. look at IGs terms of service and see who owns the rights to monetize the content users upload. Haven’t heard this much whinging since Brad Domke’s filmer saw that Stab ran that Puerto tow in.
IG terms of service allow for the Daily Mail to do what they did. Who shot Mick’s portrait? Is it allowed here? And can you formulate an intelligent reply, rather than going into childish insults (as Chas does on podcasts)?
You can’t draw blood with a nerf syringe.
Yet another brilliant T-shirt slogan.
Up to $150.000 per image.
http://resourcemagonline.co…
I’ll just leave this here.
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I always did have a thing for Krissy watching that show as a kid. But not now, with that ugly mug you put on her. But Andy really does look like Joni, and Slater does make a good Jack Tripper. Nice work, Nug.
And now that I look at it some more, I think Chas would make a good Mr. Furley. They have similar facial structure and hairlines.
The Billabong In Memory of Joan Jett. Get behind it.
Is she dead yet ?
I’ve met her cousin Juan Jett.
I flew on Easy Jett to France ?
Chris Marker (I think) made a film called ‘Le Jette’.
Looks fascinating . Love these 60s genre stuff and at 28 minutes it definitely ain’t no Long Jetty .
It’s about time travel. Beautiful film.
I have no idea how old we all are here but still remember the real fear of Nuclear Destruction, before the Wall fell down under its own weight,at the end of the Cold War.
Ever met her brazilian cousin, João Jett?
Come Fly the latest Boeing Bossa Nova .
Sometimes known as Bosta Nova
Obrigado Manuka . Geez my first sentence in portugese that is mas que nada . Sorry for butchering your beautiful Latin language .
It’s all good. I do that all the time to English.
Sometimes Busta Nutta
Just organised it.
They‘ll be playing “Crimson and Clover” over and over and over ………….till our blackhearts scream for I love rock n roll . Thank god for murder ballads.
Joan Jett and the Burkharts?
“Watching an ex muscle turns through chubby runners… one down, two to go.”
When I first read this, I read it as “ex-muscle.” I envisioned a down-on-his-luck former bouncer/bodyguard type named Klaus Wolf (played by Kellan Lutz) who, in an attempt to re-gain the joy in his life and luck into finding meaning through unexpected events, slept with plus-sized women afraid of commitment…
P.S. Klaus’s father, Heinrich Stefan, a retired badass, would make an appearance at some point in the full-length movie version and attempt to lead Klaus down a different, more “rewarding” path (regardless of how unconvincing and less logical this new direction actually is comparatively, from an objective point of view, to his current one). Heinrich Stefan will be played by Dolph Lundgren…
mirramax will contact you soon.
To ask Karl for a back rub?
Foraging for food in the unexpected folds of fat ladies
Will Joel get the same when he retires? Will Dingo come back for one last crack & get the same when he retires? What about Kelly? Will he ever retire? What about Joe Turpel? Will Joe’s head ever stop getting bigger?
GoldenEye 007 big heads with slappers mod, playing odd job
Well with his Irish Heritage they could canonise him St Hat trick ?Paddy got rid of snakes ( you gotta love the man for that ) while Mick has a spider named after him and stopped the Antichrist ( in the form of a goat ) from winning 12 titles ( or Apostles? ).The faithful will flock in droves to the Pèlerinage de St Mick de Hatrick,following the path of the Saint from Coolangatta to Bells stopping at every right hand point ,breakwall , slab and beachbreak with dyed blond hair , 4 Bells on a string around their necks to frighten the sharks , piss off locals and warm the cockles of small business . Stopping in Sydney for a reconciliatory visit to Bondi with the Maccabi Hakoah Football Club before Pokies and Piss at the Penrith Panthers ,Birth place of his Holiness at the bottom of the Blue Mountains .
You, sir, are a infinitesimal sliver of James Joyce. No no, more than that, like if James Joyce was profoundly retarded. Yes, that good. You’re welcome. Keep up the way, way better than average yet only very remotely Joycean work 🙂
One night drunk in London I managed to read an hour of Ulysses and it made sense.Never had any luck since .Thanks for calling me retarded, which is much better than being late to your own funeral or wake said Finnegan begin again .
I love that first sentence (of your novel?)