Day Four, Quiksilver Pro: John John a “sweet kid” who doesn’t need his focus fucked with by your “provocative” questions!

Movie man Peter King acts as block for two-time world champ; Gabe looks flat; Where's Ross Williams?

Terrible, terrible night’s sleep. Something like the sound of a troop of gibbons being rounded up and ripped apart by a leopard woke me up repeatedly.

Moans , screams, hyeana-like laughing: were they dogs, cats, primates?

I’m bunking at the cheaper end of the southern Gold Coast, opposite the airport. A place where older Australians come to die in the sunshine. No one ages like an Australian in the hesperidean furnace of the Queensland sun. Papier-mache skin struggles to hold together cancerous lesions that multiply year on year. Like a rusted-out car they literally fall to pieces.

Yet no one dies happier: nourished by a meat tray at the bowls club, a doctor at the skin cancer clinic with a dab hand on the liquid nitrogen, an Aldi close by.

Through his disastrous start to 2018 before the injury John did not score a single wave in the excellent range (edit: he scored one in round one at Keramas). So far this event he is yet to score a single excellent wave. I count 11 heats with John scoring a single ride over eight.

I know Nick Carroll is now dabbling in the data analysis game which I pioneered after a bass fishing accident with Nate Silver of politics/sports blog 538 fame but here is a set of numbers that John Florence and his team need to fathom, and quickly.

Through his disastrous start to 2018 before the injury John did not score a single wave in the excellent range (edit: he scored one in round one at Keramas). So far this event he is yet to score a single excellent wave. I count 11 heats with John scoring a single ride over eight.

Numbers prior to 2018 don’t count because Pritamo Ahrednt and the judging panel massively changed the scale.

I thought a de-powered D-Bah lineup this morning would favour Filipe. John paddled off the beach, neglecting to utilise the rip next to the Wall. He had eyes for the “hill” peak. Toledo sat a hundred metres away from to the south. They did a slow pirouette around each other and swapped positions. John started with a peachy little tube and a toy air. The score, a 7.33 seemed high for a wave that any competent Coolangatta surfer could ride in similar fashion.

Filipe’s opener seemed low-balled. That point spread gave John a cushion of comfort to sit on. He racked up scores, mauling a close-out in a way only he can do.

Wayne “Rabbit” Bartholomew, sitting solo in the VIP tent, observed he was still operating notches below the pace set by Gabe and Filipe.

The heat dribbled away and a Filipe who has looked a bit lost and low energy was defeated.

In my torment last night, the image of John John kept returning. Despite the Taxi Driver Mohawk the difference in aura/energy between him and Gabe is stark.

I walked next to the 16/17 dual World champ just outside the media tent.

“John, can I ask you a couple of quick questions?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“A lot of people said that after the incident with Zeke last year that all that aggression and hassling really put you off is that….”

I felt a sharp elbow in my ribs and a solid girth bumped me off.

“Nah, we don’t talk about that,” said the girthy man.

It was Peter King! Manhandling me away from John.

I tried again to approach but his physical being was transposed between myself and Florence.

He was running a block, protecting his man.

But from what? I’m the biggest John John fanboi in Australia.

Is the former Champ that fragile he can’t field anything harder than a standard WSL softball?

Please, don’t get me wrong. I love muscle.

As a Queenslander who has grown up with Sicilian uncles I’ve seen interlopers and gate crashers wish they’d never been born.

But this response seemed disproportionate.

Performances were well down by yesterday’s standards. Conner Coffin squeaked by Kanoa, Seth Moniz looked solid taking down Reef Heazlewood who looked lost without that air wind blowing into the left. Kolohe was too strong for Owen and a much less explosive Medina accounted for Dora. Medina surfed flat and his turns lacked edge.

Jordy Smith, Mikey Wright were in one heat and Italo/Cardoso were in the other when I finally caught back up with Peter King on the Duranbah sand dunes.

A fierce exchange ensued.

The gist of which was, me: “What are you doing manhandling me, keep your fucking hands off me” and him: “You are harassing my friend.”

He said John was a “sweet kid” who didn’t need his focus fucked with by “provocative” questions.

I said I was doing my job and asking him about an incident that seemed to totally derail his Title campaign last year.

One he was likely to face again.

Is that harassment?

Asking the Champ what seems to me a basic question about his preparation for dealing with the aggression of opponents? Too provocative for a 26-year-old man who is a duel World Champion and has tamed the murderous waves of Pipeline and Teahupoo?

The extreme sensitivity would suggest not all is rock solid in the JJF camp.

And where is Ross Williams?

Italo, like Reef, looked tetchy and vulnerable without the air wind to leverage his board against his feet. He fell repeatedly. Snapped out a fin and looked out of sorts and petulant. He did enough to defeat Willian Cardoso who realistically would have to have comboed IF for judges to take notice.

Somehow, though, Wade Carmichael’s brand of power surfing is finding favour with judges. He will need every iota of it to take on Italo in the Quarters.

What do you think of John John’s aura?

Wearing the Mohawk well?

Appropriately, or as a camouflage for deeper vulnerabilities?