Listen: “I sometimes wish Shea and Cory Lopez’s dad was my dad too!”

And much chatter about bad surfing!

I’m not a good surfer but I expect good surfing from my professionals. Is this so wrong? Is this so egregious? Maybe yes but I crave excellence. I need excellence especially when confronted with legitimately perfect waves in a legitimately perfect arena like Honolua Bay. I need for the professional surfer to do what I can’t. I need them to float my dreams and yesterday, outside of Steph Gilmore, Carrisa Moore, Sally Fitz and a smattering of others, professional surfing let me down.

Oh how many glorious waves went unridden? Oh many barrels opened their mouths wide yet found no partner willing to dance?

I’ll answer. Too many. Too too many and Stephanie Gilmore’s performance emphasized the disparity. She had a marvelous season and has seemed to find another gear altogether. She snared her 7th title yesterday but at this rate who could say that 12 World Titles are out of the question? Even 13?

Back to the rest of the field, though, whose fault was the general lack of performance? Did the athletes simply not step up, having a collective off day? Does the World Surf League not provide enough world class waves on tour?

Or maybe this is all my own personal problem, my own private Idaho.

I spoke with David Lee yesterday morning right as Jaws and Honolua were getting underway. He had been in Florida, planning on a month long tour though had to hurry back for Thanksgiving which worked well since we were able to spend a few hours talking about the Pastime of Kings.

I shared with him that I just began surfing again, like really surfing, after a whole year off and the results have been less than pretty. First, my mind is broken and fearful. I paddle for waves with my surgically repaired left shoulder whilst an internal voice screams, “It’s going to blow! It’s going to blow!” Of course it cannot blow seeing as my bicep has been severed then screwed in front of the ball joint making it an almost possibility but I am, apparently, traumatized. Like an old Vietnam vet.

Second, my pop is rusty and lame. I struggle to my feet, partially due weakness that I am trying to remedy with pushups at home, partially due to rust. I teeter and totter all out of sorts, having dropped officially from low intermediate to middle beginner.

Third, my feet are all wrong. I don’t remember where they’re supposed to go not that I ever really knew in the first place. David Lee told me a story about Shea and Cory Lopez’s dad. He said that he put duct tape for where the boys’ feet were supposed to go. I wish he would do that for me now. I wish he would put duct tape on a board appropriate for me which, at this point, may well be an egg (damn that Devon Howard).

I’m trying to keep positive. I was never that great to begin with and maybe this is my chance to rebuild from the ground up. Do you think that’s possible? I hope and until then I hope everyone surfs better at Honolua today.

Listen here!