So here's a little advice for Joe, Pottz, Ron, Barton, Peter and Rosy…

Being one of the few, apparently, who’ve been staying up late (on the West Coast, at least) to check in on the 2019 Corona Open J-Bay I was again struck by sharply contrasting elements of the WSL broadcast: the quality of the coverage, especially the replays, and the inanity of the commentary.

Yeah, I know, listening to Joe Turpel recite love letters to the Top 40 live on air, heat after heat after heat, makes me want to stuff a wad of Fu in my ears, too.

But in regards to the commentary, and considering the tone of BeachGrit’s more typical criticism of the hapless World Surf League, which generally runs towards clever, I was moved to provide a more informed critique for those of its fan base who, along with the ‘tit clicks’ and sarcastic Chas Smith musings, might enjoy some actual perspective with their daily dose of snark.

And I’m just the guy to provide it, seeing as how, along with my brother Matt, I did the first, blow-by-blow (or more appropriately wave-by-wave) live commentary at a professional surf contest, way back at the 1984 Stubbies Pro held at Oceanside.

Up until that time surf contest commentary was rarely elevated beyond, “Cheyne Horan, please return your jersey to the beach marshal. Cheyne, return your jersey” and “Red’s up and riding”, even when red happened to be four-time world champion Mark Richards.

Oh sure, during the very first Stubbies Pro, held at Burleigh Heads in 1977, contest organizer and erstwhile drama student Peter Drouyn (what, you thought that Westerly Windina act was something new?) called a few of the latter heats with a spot-on impersonation of a Melbourne Cup horse race announcer. Good for a few laughs, but by the next year “Bloody Bill” Bolman, who took the helm at the Stubbies event, was using the amplified voice to urge spunky Gold Coast sheilas to show us their tits, while at the Rip Curl Bells event booth guest Terry Fitzgerald was using the mic to call sets for rookie team riders like Steve Wilson and Derek Hynd, sublimely unconcerned that everyone on the bluffs could hear exactly what he was doing.

Amusing, yes, informative, no.

Surf commentary got no more sophisticated as the pro tour progressed into the 1980s, which is why, in an attempt to justify a tenuous sponsorship arrangement, my brother Matt and I convinced the Stubbies execs to let us do actual live commentary at their ’84 event, leaving the jersey assignments to the beach marshals and the “show us your tits” stuff to the pros in their sponsor’s tents.

This we did, from the first heat to the last, and continued to so do for several years after, wielding the mic at a variety of big time events, from the Op Pro at Huntington Beach (where I first coined the term “paddle battle”, thank you) to the Gotcha Pro in Hawaii (including commentating the ancillary bikini contest and subsequent near riot) and the Spur Steak Ranch Surfabout in Capetown, South Africa (where I was actually paid in Spur Burgers with monkey gland sauce.)

In every case, focusing on providing surf fans with perspective on what they were watching, not simply describing what they were seeing. Which, when you get right down to it, is the entire point of sport’s commentary.

Did I eventually get tired of hearing my own voice, yammering away at the efficacy of the Huntington Hop (I actually stole that one from Tom Curren, but made it my own through relentless repetition) and explaining the priority rule for the umpteenth time? Naturally, and I’m sure many others did, as well. I’ll certainly cop to that. But having pretty much invented the art form I can claim with confidence that when it comes to live surf contest commentary, I know what I’m talking about. So here’s some advice, from a world-weary gray beard, so to speak, to our new breed of mic jockeys.

JOE: You have the job, mate. Had it for years. No need to suck up to the powers that be by continually extoling the virtues of the tour and its participants. Some actual critique would be nice, too, as in stop describing awkward tail-drifts as carving turns and blown finishes as timely exits. And while you’re at it, there’s no need to gush over every single competitor like you’re hoping they’ll hear you and invite you to their latest clip launch party. You’ve got one of the coolest jobs in pro surfing. Invite them to your party.

MARTIN: It’s simple. If you’re going to be a commentator you can’t come at it from the perspective of some dude in the stands, downing his boerewors with a Castle Lager and cheering for every good ride. Cut out the oohing and aahing. Your job isn’t to convince us that these guys and gals are good surfers — that’s their job. And c’mon, Pottz, you know good surfing when you see it. You invented a lot of it. When they kook out, call it out. You were world champ, for fucks sake. Your legacy is safe.

RONNIE: Though you’re too young to have attended the 1977 Stubbies, you’ve obviously picked a page from the Drouyn playbook, delivering the blow-by-blow in a breathless, hyperbolic rush. Which is great at offsetting Turpel’s sleep-inducing monotone and Pott’s frequent fanboy inarticulation. But you might consider taking it down a few notches, just now and then, to let us hear what you’re seeing, not simply telling us what we’re watching. You’ve got the cred. Use it.

BARTON: The most fun to listen to, as well as the most informative in terms of technique and strategy. But as the second world champ on the commentary team you’ve earned the right to be openly critical and well as appropriately supportive of today’s pros with a little less bemusement, a bit less suppressed chuckling, at the current crop’s travails. They’re serious out there. You were, too. Let your commentary reflect that.

PETER: I’ll just say this: Try not to sound so surprised that someone’s asking your opinion, and being so apologetic when it’s unflattering. You’re the biggest badass on the team. On the whole tour, for that matter. Act like it.

ROSY HODGE: Don’t change a thing. You’re absolutely adorable.

Exhibit A: Carissa Moore's 9.5 vs Filipe Toledo's 9.43…

Women’s Sport is hotter than fish grease. Pro leagues have popped up everywhere in Australia, pretty sure it’s happening in Europe and the Americas too.

Megan Rapinoe would be elected Prez of the USA if she ran against Trump in the 2020 election after winning the World Cup. Nothing but blue sky ahead for women surfers with pro careers in their sights.

Australian male pro surfing is circling the drain; the gals are dominating. 

In the last few days in between J-Bay and pumping surf at my home point I’ve visited the Skullcandy Grom Comp. Girls shredding everywhere, huge girl energy, everywhere you look girls are taking over.

You can’t deny the success of the investment Natasha Ziff, co-waterperson of the Year 2018, has made in Women’s Pro surfing. Three months ago, I watched a seventeen-year-old Floridian girl walk away from onshore 2ft D-Bah with a cheque for a hundred grand US in her hand.

WSL has made a gamble to put itself on the right side of history and so far the mainstream media has gobbled it up. It might turn out to be the smartest move pro surfing has ever made in it’s topsy turvy  forty-five-year history.

The most stunning aspect of the Founders Cup last May was how close or non-existent the gap between Gilmore, Wright, Moore and the top men was in the basin. Steph was the most watchable of all the surfers, male or female. Easily eclipsing, on that day, John John Florence. These aren’t value judgements, just facts of the matter.

The disparity between pay cheques between men and women has gone. The performance gap has not, but it’s closing. The most stunning aspect of the Founders Cup last May was how close or non-existent the gap between Gilmore, Wright, Moore and the top men was in the basin. Steph was the most watchable of all the surfers, male or female. Easily eclipsing, on that day, John John Florence. These aren’t value judgements, just facts of the matter. 

WSL now feels confident in an ever closer integration of mens and womens events. They share the same contest windows, and the same eyeballs. Both live and online. The days of a separate Tour schedule are almost over, apart from legacy events like Pipeline and waves still considered too gnarly like Teahupoo. They share the same audience, the same prizemoney, the same lineups, the same criteria but to even the most casual viewer the scale used to put a number on their rides is wildly different.

I said last night that it was a lack of capacity that stopped me watching more women’s pro surfing and that is true. But there is more. After watching six hours of men surfing and then in the same lineup with the same judging panel the numbers thrown at the women seem ridiculously inflated.

I said last night that it was a lack of capacity that stopped me watching more women’s pro surfing and that is true. But there is more. After watching six hours of men surfing and then in the same lineup with the same judging panel the numbers thrown at the women seem ridiculously inflated. 

Steph’s two sixes would be fours or maybe fives. Caz Marks’ eight would be more like a six. The most glaring example was Carissa Moore’s 9.5 from her quarter-final with Johanne Defay. A good wave, a great wave. Three nice turns, a fun little tube-ride.

When we put side by side with Filipe Toledo’s 9.43 opener for his heat against the Panda the difference is stark. Staggering. Every variety of top turn and power carve on display with a strong ending. 

Why the discrepancy? With the women on full pay do they really need the babyfood scores fed to them like mashed banana? Is it not disrespectful to their status as athletes and elite level surfers to be so clearly patronised by exactly the same judging panel using the same criteria?

What message does it send to the kiddies, the future?

That we’ll pay you the same but score you differently?

Down at the Oz Grom Comp I watched the best kids of the future. Gals shredding as hard as boyos. What incentive have they got to elevate the level, to future proof the sport if they know they are going to get fed highballed scores for surfing well below the level they are capable of reaching.

Equal pay has been a boon for women’s surfing. Time for an equal judging scale to be applied if the Tours are to co-exist.

Four high-pressure heats contested with world title hopes on the line…

It’s getting real in the women’s world title race now. The opening heats for the women at J-Bay set up the quarterfinals perfectly.

Each of the high seeds made it through, which meant four high-pressure heats contested with world title hopes on the line. The atmospherics of dreamy J-Bay felt at odds with the stakes. Even the inevitable point break lulls ratcheted up the tension.

This year’s narrative was set to be a rivalry between Stephanie Gilmore and newcomer Caroline Marks.

I’ll confess I rolled my eyes a bit at the notion that we could decide the narrative back at the opening event, but having written press releases a few times in my life, you have to write something.

In any case, the Gilmore-Marks title race hasn’t really materialized, thanks to inconsistent performances from both women. Other contenders such as Carissa Moore and Sally Fitzgibbons, meanwhile, have steadily climbed the rankings.

Though this year has never been a two-woman race, the quarterfinal between Gilmore and Marks was a big heat for both of them.

For Gilmore, it was a crucial heat if she wants to chase down Carissa Moore and Sally Fitzgibbons for the world title. Gilmore has struggled to bring her best surfing to the party this year. The gorgeous style will always be there, but at crucial points she’s failed to get the scores that add up to a world title.

Marks, meanwhile, needed to win this heat to pull herself out of the two-way tie with Lakey Peterson for fifth and climb back into the title race, if she can. As the fourth-placed American in the rankings going into J-Bay, Marks also needed a good heat to keep her Olympic dreams alive.

It is always a shock to me when Steph Gilmore falls on a wave. Wait, what? How is that even possible? When Gilmore is at her best, it feels like nothing could ever go wrong.

In her heat against Marks, Gilmore fell twice on scoring waves, and quite simply, that was the game. Marks surfed as well as ever with an 8.17 and a 6.27 as her keepers but Gilmore largely defeated herself on this one.

A pair of sixes at a right-hand point is a rough day at the office for Gilmore and in a post-heat interview, she said it was a crucial heat and a tough loss. She isn’t out of the title race just yet, but losing that heat just made the whole thing much more difficult.

Of the women in these quarterfinals, Carissa Moore surfed the best. Smooth, controlled, powerful. She seemed to see what the wave was going to do before it happened. She never fell out sync, there were no frantic chases down the line to get back in the pocket.

If you didn’t see the 9.5, it’s worth finding. She slid into that cheeky barrel on the end section like it was nothing, never mind the rocks lurking just beneath the surface. Against anyone else, Johanne Defay might have had a shot at this one. She surfed well, but Moore was simply on another level. There’s not much you can do with a 17-point combo.

Thanks to the post-heat interview I learned that Moore and Defay are good friends and traveling together at J-Bay. This is fine, but it felt like waste of an interview to me. Anyone who’s spent any time around women’s sports knows the friendship stops when the competition begins. No one’s going to really spare a thought for their bestie when the world title is on the line. Moore handled it with her characteristic grace, of course. She’ll meet Marks in the semifinal, which is going to be fire.

My heart always says Malia, but my head said that certainly Sally Fitzgibbons would win this one. Not so fast. J-Bay suits Manuel’s smooth style and clean rail work. She came out firing on and scored a 7.0 on her opening wave. If her turns lacked the dynamism and power of Moore, Manuel looked poised and beautifully controlled.

Fitzgibbons answered back with fast, hammering turns. The judges rightly rewarded her tighter, more vertical turns a bit more than Manuel’s more flowing style, but the heat remained a nailbiter.

Then things got wild. Manuel fell after taking a wave on priority, leaving her with no backup score. A lull created a high-tension waiting game. Then with priority, Manuel went to go, but changed her mind. Along the way, she also prevented Fitzgibbons from taking the wave. That meant Manuel lost priority. Fitzgibbons scooped up the next one, but only managed a 6.17. Good, but not the emphatic finish she might have liked.

Point breaks are a finicky business. Long lulls. Two-wave sets alternated with five- or even ten-wave sets. Manuel quite simply got lucky. Instead of a two-wave set, the waves just kept coming. Manuel has an almost zenlike presence and it served her well here. She scrapped into the last wave of the set, waited for the white water section to clear, threw down a series of clean, arcing turns.

Just nail the close-out and win the heat: That’s it. Manuel went big on the final section, but fell on the closeout. The cameras showed her on the beach, waiting for the score to come though. It felt like forever, watching it. She got it.

A 7.03 on her final wave sends Manuel to the semi-final.

I was looking forward to the heat between Courtney Conlogue and Lakey Peterson. Both are insanely competitive and dynamic. You never really know what Conlogue, in particular, is going to do on a wave. Her opener featured an insane close-out move. The judges weren’t that into close-out moves this time around, it seems, because I expected a higher score for that one than they delivered. Conlogue took an early lead with a 7.33.

Peterson answered back in short order with a signature wave. A series of tight, vertical turns linked seamlessly. And fast. Peterson has so much speed. She’s always right on the edge of it, which is nerve-wracking to watch. I’m not sure about that head throw in the midst of the hooking turn she loves so much. An 8.57 gave her the lead and the heat looked to be a competitive one.

It took a turn when Conlogue needed a board change. If you’re going to break your board in a heat, J-Bay is a hell of a place to do it. Paddle back up to the keyhole, get to the beach, paddle back out. I thought the heat was over for Conlogue. There was no way Peterson wasn’t going to make the most of sitting alone in the lineup. But Peterson could only pick up a 4.50 during Conlogue’s board change.

Game still on.

Except Conlogue paddled back out to a flat ocean. Just then, J-Bay decided to do stupid point break things and the lull from hell began. Peterson and Conlogue sat there, bobbing up and down, staring at the horizon. Pretty much nothing happened. Finally, one wave slouched down the point. With priority, Peterson scooped it up, scored a 5.83, and that was the heat. It was all a bit of a letdown, given the dynamic styles of the two women in the water. Peterson meets Manuel in the semifinal, which will be quite the contrast in styles.

With Fitzgibbons out, Moore needs to make the final in order to take over the lead in the rankings. That means beating Marks. Based on their quarterfinal heat scores, Moore has the edge, but both women have shown that they are big-heat surfers. They bring their best when it matters, and Moore has steadily built a solid foundation for a title run.

While the narrative has focused on Gilmore and Marks, Moore is quietly waiting to pounce.

Corona Open J-Bay Women’s Quarterfinal Results:
QF 1: Caroline Marks (USA) 14.44 DEF. Stephanie Gilmore (AUS) 13.10
QF 2: Carissa Moore (HAW) 17.67 DEF. Johanne Defay (FRA) 12.50
QF 3: Malia Manuel (HAW) 14.03 DEF. Sally Fitzgibbons (AUS) 13.50
QF 4: Lakey Peterson (USA) 14.40 DEF. Courtney Conlogue (USA) 11.00

Corona Open J-Bay Women’s Semifinal Matchups:
SF 1: Caroline Marks (USA) vs. Carissa Moore (HAW)
SF 2: Malia Manuel (HAW) vs. Lakey Peterson (USA)