Open Thread: Comment live on Boost Mobile
Pro as Australians, including activist Tyler Wright, keep the
professional surfing dream alive!
By Chas Smith
What a time to be alive!
Is the World Surf League still a functioning
body? I, for one, don’t know, but there is another
professional surfing competition in Australia happening right now,
the Boost Mobile Pro, and you are allowed to watch for free.
Are you old enough to remember when Boost Mobile first floated
into our world?
I am.
It was supposed to be a content x mobile play that certainly
seems prescient but was also based on extreme sports, which
certainly don’t.
Or maybe do.
Weigh in on Tyler Wright etc. as they surf professionally and
live here.
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With fog of sorrow lifting, punters come
out to dance on Surfer magazine’s still warm corpse: “Don’t let the
door hit you in the ass on the way out!”
By Animal Chin
In the word’s of Neil Young- “It’s better to burn
out, than it is to rust.”
I am now an entirely apolitical person. I
excused myself from the annals of the internet in mid 2019 after
what you may call internet induced political fatigue. Thats quite a
feat considering I come from a family with political roots in both
federal and local government, went to a polling university that
garners an A+ from FiveThirtyEight where I pursued political
science and later went to law school where Mr. Biden himself was a
constitutional law professor. The cacophony of purity tests and
conspiracy theories from the left and right were so deafening that
I now abstain from all news and voting and vowed to fulfill my
civic duty by creating jobs in my local economy and being an active
participant in my kid’s school district, the ultimate goal being to
help impact my local community and hope that there is a butterfly
effect that ripples further.
In a country so divided, surfing and reading about surfing were
my safe haven. In the water, especially during COVID, my friends
and I would put any politically induced stress in a neat box and
compartmentalize it for an hour session, focusing on the things
that unify us, rather than separate us. Environmentalism was always
a topic of discussion, parenting, jobs, etc. But never politics.
The sport we love has unified so many disparate characters that it
only seemed logical that the sport could get us to drop our arms
and embrace our brethren from 6 feet away and enjoy one of the last
bastions of human contact many of us have since we are all working
from home and trying to also, somehow, teach our kids science via a
fucking Zoom connection while also taking conference calls.
Surfer magazine was, for years, the sports bible. With a long
history of writing some of the most interesting and compelling
articles in surf, Surfer magazine represented, to me, a unifying
publication aimed at every surfer. As I exited the internet and
stopped reading news, I vowed that the only things I would read
would be BeachGrit, PE Newswire, and Surfer. The articles on
surfer, especially the ones by Zander Morton, scratched my itch and
reminded me of when I would thumb the physical pages as a kid.
As I read daily, I was pleased and loved what I was reading. But
as 2020 went on one voice, Todd Prodanovich, stood out as just
fucking tone deaf. Dude straight up doesn’t get it. He is the exact
type of person that pushed me off social media (and out of
Democratic Party affiliation). Purity tests, finger wagging, and
hyper politicization of everything are Todd’s name of the game. As
things got weird in 2020, TP dropped the facade of any sort of
journalistic integrity and wrote articles (more like Vox than
Surfer) finger wagging at those who surfed under COVID regulations,
selling COVID pseudoscience, finding injustice everywhere, and just
being the worst kind of elitist opinionated limousine liberal most
liberals hate. Earlier in the year he had a call to action claiming
surfers should embrace our anti-establishment roots and then went
on this week to endorse a ticket filled with two of the most
establishment centric politicians who have ever filled a ticket,
how radical.
Fast forward to this weekend, Todd announced that Surfer, is
indeed dead. I for one, am happy. He announced that the cover will
feature a paddle out for George Floyd and include a longford piece
on the LGBTQ community. Those thought pieces are great for those
who want that intermingled with ads for the SharkBans, but most of
us don’t. I have no problems with the cover or the article, but
putting those things front and center, Todd proved that as
Editor-in-Chief, he didn’t care about all surfers, just the ones he
agreed with politically. It was disheartening to know that TP’s
vision for Surfer was not for surfers, but to turn the magazine
into yet another virtue signaling outrage machine more focused on
having its finger on the pulse of woke than on being the source of
truth for all things surf.
We as surfers, are a group of individuals tied by a common bond-
mainly a love for the ocean and getting fat tubes. Needless
division in our tight knit group should not be tolerated. In almost
every surf documentary, people of all races and socioeconomic
statuses describe surfing as an escape from their day-to-day.
Shoehorning politics and egalitarian elitism into a sport that so
many of us rely on for an escape should not be something we accept
carte-blanche. Who the hell is Todd Prodanovich to tell us what to
think and who is he to needlessly divide us over what he perceives
as important. We are anti-establishment, and that’s why Surfer
Magazine was replete of political grandstanding, because surfing
isn’t supposed to represent that. Also, judging by the fact that
the majority of the comments and thumbs ration TP’s opinions into
absolute oblivion, its pretty obvious the masses feel the same, at
least the ones on Surfer.com.
In the word’s of Neil Young- “It’s better to burn out, than it
is to rust.” Thank god Surfer did the former rather than the
latter. Todd, Vox and The Atlantic might love your reductive and
pedantic race to politicize everything and find your way to the
lowest common denominator, but for the time being- don’t let the
door hit you in the ass on your way out. You won’t be missed.
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Seventeen-year-old boy describes terrifying
moment when shark began its vicious attack: “I was stressing, I was
screaming at everyone, and everyone just started paddling away from
me!”
By Chas Smith
"In the moment, you just think you’re not going to
come out of it alive unless you do something."
Do you consider yourself a brave and hearty
soul, not easily rattled or put off your game? Like,
Julian Wilson brave, swimming directly toward a shark attack in
order to help a friend?
A hero?
If you answered “yes” I am certain that seventeen-year-old Perth
surfer Sav Marafioti wishes you were in the water a few days ago
when a shark began its attack.
He was out at Toms Surf Break in North Beach with many others
when he felt that dreaded nudge.
“As I put my leg down, I felt it again, so I’ve put my leg up
and it’s grabbed my leg rope and started pulling down, and my leg
rope’s just started to stretch. I thought I was going to die. I
didn’t know what to do. I was stressing, I was screaming at
everyone, and everyone just started paddling away from me. In the
moment, you just think you’re not going to come out of it alive
unless you do something.”
Absolutely terrifying, especially being abandoned like that.
Everyone just paddling away and not a proud day for Perth surfers
except one hale friend who stuck around.
Marafioti undid his leash, swam to that friend who paddled him
in on his board.
A hero though… this whole two boys, one board setup seems very
dangerous, like tempting fate, but no matter. Fortune favors the
bold and it favored Marafioti who added, “You can’t explain how it
feels to have an animal grabbing at you. I don’t wish it on
anyone.”
“Except Carole Baskin.”
Just kidding. He didn’t say that part about Carole Baskin.
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Warshaw on Death of SURFER magazine: “It’s
been hanging by a thread since it was sold to the owner of National
Enquirer in 2019, but the clock has been ticking since Al Gore
invented the internet.”
By Matt Warshaw
"I left SURFER but SURFER never left me."
In 1972, at age 12, I wanted to grow up and be Jeff
Hakman or Jerry West, flip a coin.
Instead, I grew up to be the editor of SURFER, which is one of
those consolation prizes that turns out to be better than the thing
you wanted in the first place.
I was hired in 1985.
Creatively speaking, the magazine was in middling-poor shape
when I arrived and middling-good shape six years later when I
ceremoniously turned over my half-ton avocado-green Steelcase
editor’s desk to Steve Hawk,
who took SURFER from middling-good to very good indeed.
It was a great place to work: part surf club, part Warhol
Factory, part The Office.
I liked the people I worked with. I liked the deadline pressure
and having a worthy nemesis (thank you, Surfing), and as a
subscriber and fan since 1969, I liked the weight of the place —
having Severson, Stoner, Kampion, and Brewer looking over my
shoulder (the first three metaphorically; Art Brewer actually
looked over my shoulder and froze my blood on occasion
with his famous
hooded-eye stare).
In other words, I was both inspired and slightly awed at being
part of the sport’s oldest and best magazine. I never set foot on
the SURFER premises without intending to make the new issue better
than the previous one — because it was my byline on the articles
and my name at the top of the masthead, yes, but also because it
was fucking SURFER, Bible of the Sport, and I still hate that
tagline, but if you got the gig you honored and respected and were
shaped by it nonetheless.
SURFER had been hanging by a thread since it was sold to
American Media (owner of National Enquirer) in early 2019, but the
clock has been ticking since Al Gore invented the internet. Surf
magazines will find a cozy little niche audience, like vinyl LPs,
but with rare exception we’re 20 or so years removed from the day
when a print article could break a story, set a tone, drive a
discussion.
SURFER has long felt like a coda not just to its previous self,
but to print media in general. Prodanovich said the “Covid economy”
did SURFER in, but that’s not really true. The internet marched
SURFER to the cliff — all the virus did was finger-push it over the
edge. Digital is coming for us all, and yes I see the irony of this
story appearing here.
I’ve said that leaving SURFER at the end of 1990 was like
shedding a skin. But thinking it over these past few days, I’m more
aware than ever that SURFER in fact moved into me like a DNA
transduction.
I left SURFER but SURFER never left me.
Art Brewer and
Jeff Divine, for
example, each with 50 years on the masthead, are my Polaris and
Sirius of long-term high-quality work. Ron Stoner’s unschooled
genius is my proof that savants live among us.
Drew Kampion was
the first SURFER writer I stole from, probably for a middle school
essay, and I’ve done it ever since, right up to Sean Doherty’s
recent Pipe Masters wrapup. John Witzig taught
me how to come in with guns firing. Kevin Naughton and Craig
Peterson taught me how to come in with a smile and a
bro handshake and a case of beer.
Photographer Brad Barrett (below right) and art director Hy
Moore (left), the quiet duo from SURFER’s 1968-1971 High
Renaissance Age, and I do mean high, remind me that some of the
finest and most valuable work goes uncredited.
I never met John Severson in person, but thanks to him I know
that is possible to create something that is both specific and
timeless, and that you can and should develop a full
quiver of media skills. We are by and large an international
collection of small-bore hustlers, back-paddlers, and bad-vibers,
but at some deep plasmatic level we share a bond as surfers, and
this was another received bit of Severson wisdom. “I wanted
everybody to feel included,” he told me in 1995 when I asked why he
originally called his magazine The Surfer. “It felt like we were
something we were all going to do together.”
“We’re In This Together,” incredibly, is the lone cover blurb on
SURFER’s final
issue, and while I am warmed by this 1960-to-2020
symmetry and full-circleness, there is no getting around the fact
that, with SURFER gone, we are suddenly and probably forever less
together.
It ain't a stretch to describe Julian Wilson as
Australia's best surfer. | Photo: Steve
Sherman/@tsherms
Julian Wilson has $US1.5 million lawsuit
against former sponsor Hurley dismissed
By Cedar Hobbs
Who blinked first, Hurley or Wilson?
Last month, Julian Wilson initiated a $US1.5 million
lawsuit against Hurley for their alleged wrongful
termination of his contract.
The crux of Hurley’s alleged reasoning centered on Wilson’s
failure to compete in 2020. The contract had apparently entitled
Hurley to reduce Wilson’s compensation if he failed to compete in
at least five World Tour events in a year.
The WSL cancelled the 2020 Tour following the outbreak of the
COVID-19 pandemic.
It’s unclear why Wilson dismissed the suit, as the documents
filed on Wilson’s behalf are lacking any substantive information,
but it’s likely that the parties settled.
Wilson’s attorneys would have likely threatened suit in the
initial negotiations and he (plausibly) would have had little
incentive to dismiss the suit without reaching some settlement
agreement, as even the hint of litigation is substantial leverage
in the U.S. (lawyers are an expensive bunch).
It’s possible that Wilson blinked first in light of a threat by
Hurley (aka Bluestar Alliance) to litigate the matter to the hilt,
but it seems unlikely given Wilson was represented by a
high-powered legal firm specializing in media and
entertainment.
Wilson and Hurley entered into the original seven-year agreement
in 2014.
Then, in 2019, Hurley was purchased by Bluestar Alliance.
According to Wilson, Bluestar announced its intention to shift
away from athlete sponsorships following the acquisition.
Bluestar was allegedly unhappy with many of the contracts they
had acquired, “reportedly looking for loopholes in contracts. … to
use as leverage to renegotiate terms.”
Wilson also alleged that Hurley had attempted to postpone his
payments, telling Wilson that if he did not agree to the
postponement, Hurley would face bankruptcy.
Since Bluestar’s acquisition, Hurley has culled several
high-profile athletes.
Rob Machado, a Hurley sponsored surfer for twenty years, was
dropped in January of this year.
John Florence left Hurley after he was reportedly offered $2
million to void the remaining $12 million left in his contract.
Carissa Moore was rumored to be in a contract dispute with
Hurley earlier this year, though she still remains on the team.
Wilson is still sponsored by a myriad of brands, including Red
Bull, but for now, the nose of his board looks a lot like ours.
The flouting of contracts isn’t exactly novel news for Americans
(see American removal of Native Americans), but it still feels dire
when corporations can essentially opt out of expensive surf
sponsorships with little consequence.
