Sam George: “Was this the sloppiest display of elite surfing competition in Bells’ fabled history?”

Pro surfing looks like junior tee-ball, where the little kids can just keep on swinging until they finally connect, then get cheered all the way to first base.

I tuned into the last hour or so of the WSL’s broadcast of the 58th annual Rip Curl Pro at Bells Beach, the longest-running professional surf contest and certainly one of the most storied.

In the whack-a-mole world of pro contest sponsorship tradition isn’t a word that’s bandied about much, with venues and vibes changing as regularly as surf company CEOs.

Not so, Bells.

Same place, same time, same sponsor, same chilly parking lot. Same prestige, too, hefting that Bells Trophy.

Joining the ranks of The Immortals: Peterson, M.R., Simon, Curren, Carroll, Occhilupo, Irons, Parko, Fanning. And that’s just the men’s division; Lisa, Layne and Stephanie have their own seats on Olympus.

So much good surfing has gone down in those long, broad-based Victorian walls that a highlight reel would need as many sequels as The Avengers franchise.

So is it just me or was this one of the sloppiest displays of elite surfing competition in Bells’ fabled fifty-eight-year-history?

The Slater/Wilson Round of 32 heat, for example, in which the Greatest of All Time won with a score that barely hit double digits. This, in clean, four-to-six-foot Winkipop. But his tepid tally still bested Julian, Oz’s perennial world champion hope, whose highest scoring ride was a 3.87.

I mean, really.

The Slater/Wilson Round of 32 heat, for example, in which the Greatest of All Time won with a score that barely hit double digits. This, in clean, four-to-six-foot Winkipop. But his tepid tally still bested Julian, Oz’s perennial world champion hope, whose highest scoring ride was a 3.87.

Is this really what all the Vicco surf fans froze their Ugg Boots off to see? Let alone the online community who, if they had the sound turned down (you know you do it, too), might’ve thought they were watching an 1987 NSSA District contest at C-Street in some weird Flashback Friday episode.

Like I said, sloppy.

How about Owen Wright, snapping his board on a duck dive, only to ski-race in to the beach and find his backup board unwaxed! Seriously, these are pro surfers. The waves were double overhead on the sets, the shorebreak cracking, and the backup board is un-waxed.

What, did Owen come to the beach that morning with his coach or an Uber driver?

The latter heats were no less, let’s say (and generously, at that) uneven. Again with the GOAT, proud recipient of four Bells trophies, surfing, sort of, against Ryan Callinan in the quarterfinals: pumping, beautiful Bells Bowl and not a single wave over 5.50.

How about Owen Wright, snapping his board on a duck dive, only to ski-race in to the beach and find his backup board unwaxed! Seriously, these are pro surfers. The waves were double overhead on the sets, the shorebreak cracking, and the backup board is un-waxed. What, did Owen come to the beach that morning with his coach or an Uber driver?

Almost half of Kelly’s scored rides were wipeouts and his highest score maxed-out at 3.50.

The semi-final with Toledo vs Callinan: eight-to-ten-foot, offshore, thirteen waves ridden and not a single one in the excellent range.

I won’t even talk about the top bogs and over-the-falls, ass-over-tea kettle wipeouts. Watching all this wetsuit flushing had me trying to think of any other world-class sport where in the heat of competition there’s absolutely no penalty for spectacularly screwing up.

Pro surfing, at least judged by these performances, looks a little bit like junior tee-ball, where the little kids can just keep on swinging until they finally connect, then get cheered all the way to first base.

Like, “Yay, you did it! Finally.”

Pumping, beautiful Bells, clean, offshore winds, two of the best young surfers in the world and not a single ride in the excellent range? Only plenty of nursed turns and few spectacular wipeouts punctuating what was, judging by the aggregate wave scores, about a half hour of slightly above-average surfing.

And speaking of the final?

Pumping, beautiful Bells, clean, offshore winds, two of the best young surfers in the world and not a single ride in the excellent range? Only plenty of nursed turns and few spectacular wipeouts punctuating what was, judging by the aggregate wave scores, about a half hour of slightly above-average surfing.

C’mon, you guys, this is Bells! Where Simon debuted the Thruster. Where Occy won that awesome Skins event. Where Kelly did the epic Air Reverse. Where Courtney got that 10-point ride (Oh, wait, that was this year. At least the ladies delivered.)

But you get the picture.

Ride bigger boards next time or fire your coaches or go back and watch the Michael Peterson/Bells contest segment in Free Ride while repeating over and over, “I will not hop, I will not hop, I will not hop.”

Do something to honor the Rip Curl Pro’s legacy.

To honor the Bells Beach legacy. Something spectacular, not just slightly above average.

And for fuck’s sake, don’t forget to wax your board.