Watch: Chinese heartthrob Wang Yibo appears
on hit show “Summer Surf Shop” absolutely stunning fans with his
“dripping wet bod” while “slaying in it the water!”
By Chas Smith
We now officially know, unofficially, that our
World Surf League has put Dirk Ziff’s remaining eggs (huevos in
Spanish) in one basket.
The Ultimate Surfer’.
With the tour indefinitely scuttled, insurance premiums likely
through the roof and a slate of CEO Erik Logan YouTube series,
including Lawn Patrol and Unhinged, that have failed to ignite,
the ABC reality
series is organized professional surfing’s last great
hope.
Failure not at option.
Ultimate Surfer has yet to announce an air date but I wonder if
Dirk Ziff is shaking in his tassled loafers, especially now that
the Chinese have released their own reality series called Summer
Surf Shop with a special guest appearance by heartthrob Wang
Yibo.
According to a source in in the know, “Wang Yibo’s entrance to
the show echoes his typical cool-guy persona. Behind-the scenes
footage of the dude on a surfboard, dripping wet and slaying in it
the water began surfacing. Wang Yibo on a surfboard is quite a
sight indeed.”
Now that Yibo has committed to Summer Surf Shop, almost
certainly making him unavailable for Ultimate Surfer, chances for
the World Surf League to expand its robust TikTok fanbase appear to
be in danger unless Zeke Lau, reported to be cast and already in
Lemoore, is good at crafting, pranks and choreographed dance moves
aimed at nine-year-old girls.
You recall that TikTok is the
League’s only success story of the last three years
and the app is in danger of being deleted entirely due fears that
the Chinese government is using to mine data, robustly spy on
users, etc.
I wonder if Dirk Ziff is quaking in his Hermès Izmir sandals… or
wait.
Yo Kyle, I just ordered the raddest RinseKit. Dave at
Surfline said it was the best rinse kit ever. Excellent pressure. A
long, thick hose. Large capacity. Everyone knows that product
reviews never lie. | Photo: @surflineman
Surfline Man cancels Waco trip: “I didn’t
really want to go to Texas anyway. Look at those Corona
numbers. It’s toxic, brah!”
By Jen See
Buys RinseKit, a mid-length and maybe falls in
love…
In the process, he inundated his friends, some of them super
ready to be former friends, with emails, and begged industry
contacts, both real and imagined, for product.
Did Dave work for Vissla or Volcom? Did Dave ever even
exist?
Will anyone ever answer the info@ email at a brand?
Surfline Man will never admit that he doesn’t know.
Perhaps inevitably, the wheels came off.
First, Kyle’s wife told him he had to stay home. The Prius
needed an oil change or some such bullshit. The raddest Chad
didn’t know anyone at Saint Archer after all, and Ryan’s Sprinter
is in the shop again.
Really, if you just take care of your car, it won’t be in the
shop all the time. Does he have to explain everything?
Yes. Yes, it seems that he does.
Surfline Man is totally over it.
He didn’t really want to go to Texas anyway. And look at
those Corona numbers.
It’s toxic, brah.
He stands in the parking lot at San O, and watches his aerial
dreams waft away forever. Air reverses are for groms, he tells
his girlfriend.
For inspo, Surfline Man watched The Present over the
weekend. Somehow, he missed it when it came out, but now it’s like
totally his new favorite surf movie ever.
You guys, you have to watch this thing, it’s so seminal, he
tells his last remaining friends.
Who needs airs, when you’ve got style. Style is what makes a
good surfer, Surfline Man proclaims to anyone he can find in the
parking lot.
Hey, where’s everyone going?
Yes, Surfline Man is back on his bullshit.
He awakens each morning just as the sun rises and checks every
cam from San Diego to Ventura. Sometimes, just for kicks, he checks
Santa Cruz, too.
He could totally get there in time for low tide in the Sprinter.
Maybe tomorrow.
Surfline Man would be lost without his cams and his charts and
his rewind. Checking the buoys is so boring. Like, there’s just
this long list of numbers. So many numbers.
Who can even make sense of all those numbers? It’s way too much
work.
Where are the colors and the cool graphs and stuff? You can’t
have a surf forecast without colors and graphs. Surfline Man firmly
believes that there are rules in life and this is one of them.
No colors, no forecast. That’s it, that’s the whole thing.
To make up for his failed roadtrip, Surfline Man bought himself
an awesome present. A brand-new rinse kit!
Hot water for dayyyysss, brah. Bought a roll of AstroTurf, too,
got it on sale at Home Depot. Just cut off a new strip and bam! A
fresh spot to change. You should totally try it. So fucking sweet,
brah.
Today, he’s gona go down to Swamis with the midlength.
Surfline Man watched yesterday’s session on rewind and it was so
disappointing. His arms were just like, everywhere. He looked
exactly like that dumb statue in Cardiff.
So embarrassing. What was he thinking?
Surfline Man is not about to give up. Not by a long shot. Sure,
his girlfriend left him yesterday, which was a total bummer. But
today is going to be his best session ever. That perfect cutback,
just like Devon Howard, it’s totally going to happen for him
today.
Maybe that cute girl he saw in the parking lot last time will be
there, too. She had the coolest Ryan Lovelace midlength under her
arm. Such a killer resin tint. She looked so cute in her Patagonia
Long Jane.
Surfline Man can’t wait to ask her about her board. He’s dying
to know her dims. And see her fin set-up. He thinks it was a 2+1,
but he can’t wait to find out for sure.
Just like his cutback, they were meant to be.
He can feel it!
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Breaking: John Florence, Kolohe Andino,
Carissa Moore, Caroline Marks unanimously select Brett Simpson as
first ever U.S. Olympic surf head coach!
By Chas Smith
The people's choice!
If we’re honest, and I think we can be here on
the biggest little surf website in the whole world, very few things
are more important than popularity.
Leaving aside moral fortitude, bravery, trustworthiness,
selflessness, critical thinking etc., popularity, and/or the
pursuit thereof, gives rise to great works of art: Mean
Girls, Less than Zero, 10 Things I Hate about
You just to name three.
Popularity feels good and/or bad if a person happens to be
unpopular and, this morning, I wonder if Rainos Hayes, Shane
Beschen, Mike Parsons and Chris “Gally” Stone all feel bad or if
they selflessly feel good for Brett Simpson who beat them each to
become the very first U.S. Olympic surf team head coach.
Historically significant.
Simpson was chosen over all other candidates, according to
U.S.A. Surfing’s CEO Greg Cruse, after the team consisting of John
John Florence, Kolohe Andino, Carissa Moore and Caroline Marks
unanimously selected him.
Cruse added, “We have some of the top surfers in the world on
our team. They all have their teams that they work with, year-in,
year-out, so they really don’t need coaching in the traditional
sense of the word. What they need is someone that they can relate
to, that they respect, that they can bounce ideas off, that can
calm them, or hype them up, and just get them in the best mindset.
That’s what you need and that’s what Brett brings to the
table.”
Very fine and Simpson should feel humbled in that
“I-smashed-all-comers-and-rule” Gabriel Medina sort of way.
His stable will likely be facing Brazil’s Medina and/or Italo
Ferreira in Tokyo.
Daunting.
Mirroring Cruse’s sentiments, Simpson declared, “I’m on the
younger side of the coaching spectrum but I think it’s become
relevant in a lot of sports. There’s similar views you share and
when you’re working with top level athletes like this, it isn’t
telling them how to surf. It’s more guidance on conditions,
focusing on equipment and the day-to-day preparation, putting them
in the best situation to perform at their highest level.”
Very fine indeed.
Will you call him Coach Simpson from now on or should we call
him Head Surf Coach just like Steve Spurrier was called Head Ball
Coach?
Much to ponder.
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A Wooli cop carries the boy's board. | Photo: NSW Shark
Smart
Update: Fifteen-year-old surfer killed by
“ten-foot Great White” at Wooli Beach on Australia’s mid-north
Coast; second surfer killed by a Great White in one month
By Derek Rielly
"A really big Great White shark came up and took a
bite, and he was screaming out…"
A fifteen-year-old boy has died after being hit by a
shark at Wilsons Headland at Wooli Beach, north of Coffs
Harbour, this afternoon.
Mani Hart-Deville was hit in the legs by what is being called a
“ten-foot Great White”.
“Several boardriders came to his assistance before the injured
teen could be helped to shore,” NSW Police said in a statement.
“First aid was rendered for serious injuries to his legs and
despite CPR efforts to revive him, he died at the scene.”
The joint is as secluded as it gets around those parts, dirt
road in then you gotta walk.
An hour from anywhere between Coffs Harbour and Grafton.
A local resident, Helen Dobra, told Nine News, “He said that he
was in the water and a really big Great White shark came up and
took a bite, and he was screaming out. Then the surfer said
the shark came again for another attack … and another surfer
actually bravely went and tried to get the shark off him and then
they pulled him out of the water.”
Mani Hart-Deville. Source: Facebook
I spoke to a Wooli surfer who said he’d “seen more sharks in two
months than I’ve seen in my whole life.”
It’s the second shark attack fatality on the stretch of coast in
just over a month.
Queensland surfer Rob Pedretti died after being attacked by a
“twelve-to-fifteen-foot
Great White” at Salt Beach, in front of popular
holiday resorts Peppers Salt Resort and Spa and Mantra on Salt,
forty miles north of shark-attack hotspot Byron Bay, and roughly
three hours drive from today’s attack.
Listen: Caio Ibelli on the silky joys of
Brazilian women and cavorting all over Gabriel Medina, “I feel he
cries in the shower after he loses to me…”
By Derek Rielly
Come meet your new favourite surfer!
Caio Ibelli is the twenty-six-year-old Brazilian surfer
with the flawless patrician features and rosebud month who,
repeatedly, garrots world champion surfers, mostly John John
Florence and Gabriel Media, but also including Kelly
Slater.
Told he’d never be a pro surfer ‘cause he got into the game
late, Caio won the world junior title in a stacked field that
included Filipe Toledo, Jack Freestone and Wade Carmichael, became
the rookie of the year in 2016 and has continued to be a thorn in
the side of anyone who intimates that he ain’t no good.
A little over a week after his twenty-sixth birthday in 2019,
this journeyman of five feet and six inches who nobody pays
attention to although they should was catapulted into the world of
one hundred and thirty million souls as the bogeyman who stole
Gabriel Medina’s dream for a third world title in Portugal.
Caio got hit with ten thousand hateful messages in two hours
after Medina and his guy-pal Neymar loosed their armies onto the
“high-voltage” natural-footer.
All this, of course, is discussed over the course of
eighty-eight minutes, with a late diversion into his life as a
single man (“Every man has to get a Brazilian girlfriend,”
he says, all but twirling his snout against a vulva frothed with
lubricity while we speak) after his split from pro surfer
girlfriend, Alessa Quizon.
Charlie and I are grotesque, trembling the air in apparent
orgasmic spasms, while Caio concusses us both with his endless
beautiful bludgeon strokes.
He’ll lead your poor heart to slaughter, too.
(Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcast, Stitcher,
TuneIn + Alexa, iHeartRadio, Overcast, Pocket Cast, Castro,
Castbox, Podcast Addict, Podchaser, Deezer and Listen Notes.)
