Comment Live: The cbdMD Jaws Big Wave
Championships!
By Chas Smith
Mayhem! Madness!
First Teahupoo is declared host of the surfing
program for the Paris 2024 Olympic Games. Then Pipeline is putting
on an altogether glorious show. Now we have the cbdMD Jaws Big Wave
Championships.
Is there a better time to be a professional surf fan?
Regarding the cbdMD Jaws Big Wave Championships, as you know,
the format is all different now for that big wave “tour.” There is
a paddle event (Jaws) a tow event (Naz) and a selfie event (Mavs).
Altogether they make up the Big Wave… something. Tour? Seems a
little much to call a “tour.”
This Jaws one, anyhow, is called Big Wave Championships but why
is it Championships instead of Championship?
Can you explain?
There are, in any case, heats with many surfers in the water at
a time.
Official: Teahupoo “The Place of Shattered
Skulls” to host surfing for 2024 Paris Olympic Games!
By Chas Smith
Dreams come true!
And can we all doff our berets toward France this
morning? That sporting cock? For of all the decisions made
around “surf” as “sport” by governing bodies, regulating bodies,
world leagues 9/10 are very bad decisions. Uncomfortably dumb
decisions. Incompetent, difficult to comprehend, silly
decisions.
See re-hosting the Freshwater Pro at Kelly Slater’s Surf Ranch
in the summer of 2020.
The 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games will be kicking off around the same
time, or maybe just finished. The first time in history that
surfing, our surfing, will be part of the show. Many prayers will
be offered at multiple Shinto temples for a typhoon. Without such a
climate event there will be small surf and a Kanoa Igarashi, or
that other little Japanese man, gold.
But while we are giggling and pointing we can also be girding
our loins for the summer of 2024. Filling our refrigerators with
crisp white wines, our freezers with poisson cru. Readying
ourselves for mayhem and let us quickly read the press
release for it is the very least we can do.
The Polynesian island of Tahiti has been chosen to host the
surfing events at the 2024 Paris Olympics after being selected over
beaches in southwest France and Brittany, organisers said on
Thursday.
Tahiti lies 15,700 kilometres (9,750 miles) from Paris but
was chosen because it offers near-guaranteed surfing waves in the
summer months.
The events will take place at Teahupoo, a location that
boasts some of the biggest waves on the men’s World Cup
circuit.
“It’s an extremely pleasant surprise and recognition for our
history that will restore honour to Polynesia, where surfing
began,” the president of Tahiti’s surfing federation, Lionel
Teihotu, told AFP.
According to the 2024 organising committee there was no
difference in the cost or environmental impact of the four possible
venues.
Tahiti was preferred on “sporting grounds” — a survey by
Meteo France, the French meteorological centre, suggests that
Teahupoo offers a greater likelihood of good surfing waves during
the summer months, the Paris local organising committee
said.
The choice of Teahupoo is controversial because it does not
currently feature on the women’s world circuit. The waves there are
currently considered to be too dangerous for women
surfers.
Organisers said they would get round the problem of hosting
the Olympic women’s surfing events with careful
scheduling.
“We can put the women on at a time of the day when the waves
are less powerful,” Teihotu said. “We have ways of planning that
now and it will allow women to also surf at Teahupoo.”
Viva la France. Viva her real good.
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Sold: Surf Industry Maverick’s beachfront
house smashes price records!
By Derek Rielly
It's like all the fairytale castles of the world
made into one!
Do you remember, three years ago, when the gorgeous
blond CEO and co-founder of SurfStitch, Justin Cameron, quit his
2008 start-up leaving his frumpy brunette co-founder, Lex
Pedersen to rock in his cubicle?
It was part three in SurfStitch’s multi-act tragedy that sent
the publicly listed company into a trading halt and an eventual
buy-out by Alceon, a private-equity group who counts Noni
B and Cheap as Chips as their star-studded retail
jewels alongside the darling of middle-aged and plus-sized
women, EziBuy.
Of course, unimportant details when real estate is on your mind
as was the case of Cameron’s in 2015 when he bought his hunk of
beachfront paradise, right there in front of North Avalon, 5-7
Marine Parade, for $9.24 million.
Four years later, the joint, on a double-block and renovated to
the heavens with five bedrooms and three bathrooms and a
fire-pit on the grass overlooking North Av and…oh reader… I’ve seen
plenty of castles in the Loire Valley but I’ve never seen
anything with such a graceful quality as this.
A fairytale in the middle of a splash of green vegetation on the
lower slope of the hot, bare, yellow headland.
It’s fantastic.
Too bad it’s sold already etc.
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Kelly of 2019 could beat the Kelly of ten
years ago. When we talk about best-ever athletes that needs to be
considered. At the twilight of his career, Kelly is still besting
performances of a decade ago.
Billabong Pipe Masters, Day Two: “There
isn’t a name for that psychological condition of hating Kelly and
then turning around and loving him!”
By Longtom
Loving him in the sense of being awestruck, wishing
he would go on forever and secretly believing in your heart of
hearts that despite the looming cold blade of reality perched above
his career that this could be possible and you will be here to
witness it.
Ending a sentence with a preposition after,
what? – the best Pipe waves in five years, easily
the best stanza of pro surfing since last years Pipe – then, how
about this?
The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked
about.
As an epitaph for Kelly Slater, his career, life and heat today
it would be perfecto.
No?
Kelly’s opening ride won’t make any highlight reels, it’ll be
the Backdoor tense negotiation of four collapsing sections that
gets the airtime but it is worth considering as a statement of
intent.
Two stories worth of Pacific Ocean heaving onto the Backdoor
side of the reef and all five-feet-nine inches and forty-seven
years (forty-eight in February) worth of Kelly Slater standing
erect in the tube as the wave closed out on him. Most would go,
yeah but nah after that pounding but Kelly saw that closeout
somehow as invitation for future dalliance and not closed
chapter.
Evolution is a funny thing, as prone to blind alleys and
reversals as steady progress.
Kelly himself in a recent SW interview claimed progress on the
World Tour and the surfing being done at present was not as
impressive as seven or eight years ago. I presume he meant the Dane
era.
At Pipeline the lack of progress is even more stark.
There is no generalised evolution in performance across the Pro
Tour’s CT level surfers at Pipeline. The reverse is true, if
anything. A handful of masters, a few more competent and then a
long tail who are clearly struggling. That is producing an artifact
which Ronnie Blakey diplomatically referred to as “favourable
match-ups”.
There were many today. Italo being a major beneficiary.
His heat this morning with Jaddy was again marked by solid
performances and recklessness. Luckily for him Jaddy had a similar
predilection for errors in judgement. It’s not enough to have the
skill set in the bag of being able to throw the board under the
body on a beyond vertical face, you need the judgement and
positioning to be able to perfectly deploy it.
Italo squeaked through. He faces Peterson Crisanto next round.
That is as close to an easy draw as he will get. A gift from God,
with all due respect to Crisanto.
Blakey correctly called Owen Wright one of the biggest
under-achievers at Pipe after he let Yago Dora slowly slip away
from him. Pipe should be a guaranteed QF for a guy of his skill set
and temperament.
Filipe looked comfortable enough in the front half of his
over-lapping heat with Ricardo Christie and then spilled his
marbles on the way home after Christie dodged a guillotine lip to
take the lead.
The presser afterwards showed the fragility of Toledo’s charge
for a world Title.
He alluded to mistakes with priority but the mental exhaustion
was apparent.
”I’m just tired, whatever,” he sighed. The mental burden of
career, sponsors, family and “the pressure of trying to prove
yourself” to those people was clearly overwhelming for the
Brazilian.
How to escape that bind for Pip? He’s now clearly got the skill
set. The crushing sense of pressure is another thing entirely.
I’d be on the phone to Bede Durbidge if I was team Toledo.
He needs help.
It took until Heat six before we had the first legit contest
between competent Pipe surfers.That heat marked the beginning of an
epic two-hour stanza of Pro Surfing. Kemper was solid as fuck,
there were subtle little pumps in the tube, crazy drops and broken
boards.
You could see Kemper play a slight alpha male game with Seth, he
just hustled to get the pick of the waves, but in so doing he left
Moniz out the back and on the best waves that came through. It was
a case of anything you can do I can do better. Moniz burrowed in
tight caves hiding back in tight spaces between shockwaves and foam
balls and pitching lips.
Kemper, with a favourable matchup would have won many heats
today.
There isn’t really a name for that psychological condition of
hating Kelly, I mean being sick to the back-teeth with what appears
to be an insatiable need for the adulation of the public, and then
turning around and loving him.
Loving him in the sense of being awestruck, wishing he would go
on forever and secretly believing in your heart of hearts that
despite the looming cold blade of reality perched above his career
that this could be possible and you will be here to witness it.
He looked sleepy in his start against Duru after packing the
Backdoor closeout we mentioned in the preamble. Duru started
gaining ascendancy with inside nuggets and Backdoor ropers. Kelly
manufactured a deep double tube but I felt very proud of the judges
and fellow surf fans. We were not fooled, as we have been many
times before. We knew, we could see what Kelly had done. He was
awarded a mid-seven and Duru looked solid for the win.
Minutes later, everything that had come before was preamble,
there were people openly losing their shit on the beach. Dancing,
crying, waving their arms in the air. Kelly had just emerged from
the belly of a four-chambered beast, a ride through the heaving,
convulsing digestive system of a living thing.
Immediate, unanimous ten.
I went back to the stats. The fuckdest thing: Kelly of 2019
could beat the Kelly of ten years ago. When we talk about best-ever
athletes that needs to be considered. At the twilight of his
career, Kelly is still besting performances of a decade ago.
The camera pulled out on Kelly and we got the optical illusion
of Gabe and Kelly sitting side by side.
Gabe, intense and scowling. Kelly, laughing, making prayer
hands.
Medina, imperial again. There won’t be a dynasty though while
Kelly and John John slip on the jerseys. With the intensity of the
action, time slowed to a crawl. Medina, well in front, had the
wildcard Devault comboed. He signed off on a signature deep, deep
tube with a vogued straight air.
Total control.
We comprehend things in the moment but only understand them
later, in retrospect. Such is the strange, backwards looking life
of the world’s most successful primate. It will be hard for Devault
to understand the position he had the champ in as the clock ticked
down, even with the benefit of hindsight.
He had him on the ropes, after a very long, expertly ridden wave
at Pipe that had a look of such sun-drenched perfection that even
rec surfers may have secretly yearned to ride it.
Nine points and change, he only needed a seven to get past
Medina. That five minutes of waiting, staring, wondering, praying
was the most tense five minutes of pro surfing this year.
Refutation of wavepools. Not only is skill and bravery required
but you may not even get the chance to display it.
When you think of pro surfing and what it can be, you think of
John John at perfect Pipe. Taking the drop and pulling in.
How could that simple process become so elevated, beyond the
realm of sport?
I have surfed with John at Teahupoo, I mean I scrambled around
in a state of near panic dodging sets, John surfed. Time and space
contract in those moments for most people, the best of the best
included.
Somehow, for John, they expand. Paddling late into a ten-foot
Pipe bomb, there is not one neurone that screams “He won’t make
it!”.
He’s in slow motion: very simple, deliberate movements that
taken as a whole attain some kind of perfection. The hands behind
the back claims and tongue lolling out like a labrador showed the
emotion. The relief of coming back to competition at Pipe.
He alluded to the competitive fire in the presser when he said a
third Medina title would make him “pissed off.”
He has legitimate reason to believe that Title should have been
his.
The wind turned onshore. Jordy choked. Big time. Gave away
priority with five to go. Could not close. The arc of history does
not bend towards more Pipe mastery. Which is why we, the true
believers, will enjoy the fuck out of those who display it, for our
entertainment, and their glory.
An epic finish awaits.
PS: Winds laid down they finished off the Round. Bourez smashed
Silva and Andino held nerve to run a sword through Seabass career
in glassy backlit caverns at the Pipeline. Did you watch? Analysis
below please, I thought they were off for the day.
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Warning: Disturbing new reports suggest
excess carbon dioxide in the ocean is deadly and what it means for
our children!
By Chas Smith
This one's on us.
The world’s oceans are dying, I don’t know if
you’ve heard, but according to many recent headlines from many
reputable news
sources it’s true. Dying due an excess of carbon
dioxide from, I think, climate change killing corals, killing
fishes, killing… the ocean which means killing waves. Killing
us.
And such a bummer, certainly, but we’re oldish and will
certainly have a few more years of wild surfing climate change.
No?
Yes.
But the children.
Our children suffer.
Suffer a surf-less future. A dead ocean. Disease. Rabies.
But what can we do?
What can mere surfers do?
Oh.
Everything.
We’re surfers, drop that damed “mere” after all, and know deep
truths. Know, for instance, the power of shame and that’s what the
Save the Ocean debate needs right now. A hefty wooden spoonful of
shame. Nixon also knew how to do it. How to make and keep a book of
enemies.
Are you #TeamOcean?
Well unlike Jeep and Erik “ELo” Logan you should be. This one’s
on us.