Opinion: Whimsical messages regarding
website failure only succeed in further enraging already
overwrought victims!
By Chas Smith
"Wipe out! We're working on it. Paddling back out
soon."
Yesterday, during theBillabong
Pipe Masters in Memory of Andy Irons presented by Hydro
Flask semifinals, the World Surf League’s internet feed crashed in
the United States of America leaving great swaths of professional
surf fans locked out of the action.
Technological glitches happen and I don’t fault the WSL, or its
CEO Erik Logan, for the momentary troubles but I do blame them both
for declaring “Wipe Out! We’re working on it. Paddling back out
soon.”
Gabriel Medina was in the water battling against countryman
Italo Ferreira who was wearing hot pants. It was tense,
high-octane, a likely preview of finals day 2021. Professional surf
fans were on the edge of their stools, early afternoon cocktails
clutched tightly but unconsumed as the action was simply too great
to turn away from.
All of a sudden nothing.
Frozen.
A suspended production.
Wild refreshing of browsers ensued which, eventually, was met by
a bit of whimsy.
The professional surf fan’s blood, already boiling due the
interruption, might have forgiven the WSL if surf jargon had not
been incorporated into the message. “Wipe Out! We’re working
on it. Paddling back out soon.” was a bridge too far.
Unconsumed cocktails were chucked at long-suffering dogs.
Computers near cowering children.
Marriages destroyed.
What was otherwise an exceptional day turned dark and many lives
will not fully recover.
“Wipe out! We’re working on it. Paddling back out soon.”
Sad.
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Tito Ortiz, famous mixed-martial arts
fighter and mayor pro tem of Huntington Beach, turns Surf City into
ground zero for rebellion against Coronavirus restrictions: “I
ain’t taking that vaccine – hell no!”
By Chas Smith
"To hell with that!"
But does a two week stretch get any more
action-packed in our surf world? Any more exciting? The last
fourteen days saw the kickoff of the World Surf League’s
championship tours, women’s and men’s, in Honolua Bay and at the
Banzai Pipeline respectively. The Honolua event was cancelled after
a fatal shark attack. The Banzai event was suspended after WSL CEO
Erik Logan admitted to contracting the novel Coronavirus.
A cone of silence descended.
The women’s event was moved to the Banzai, the men’s event was
allowed to resume, the cone of silence was temporarily lifted,
history was made as the women carved, occasionally got pat, John
John Florence won his very first Pipe Masters.
In the middle of all this, famous mixed-martial arts fighter and
mayor pro tem of Huntington Beach Tito Ortiz spoke at a “Stop the
Steal” rally in town and decried both mask wearing and the
just-released Covid-19 vaccine cementing Surf City as “ground zero
for rebellion against Coronavirus restrictions” according to the
Orange County
Register and whoa.
Who would have ever imagined Surf City becoming the ground zero
of anything save the famed “Huntington Hop?”
Certainly not me but let’s watch Ortiz’s December 13 speech
together, as surfers, in our ancestral home.
The Register reached out to Ortiz for clarification about his
anti-mask stance and he responded, via text, “Wearing masks
actually drops the oxygen levels required by the U.S. government,
making (the) City of HB libel (sic) for dangerously low air intake
levels!”
It does take much oxygen to do the Huntington Hop, that I know
from experience, as I once became very winded hopping from middle
pier all the way to the shore.
Whew.
Surf City, USA.
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John John Florence, Tyler Wright win
“historical” Billabong Pipe Masters: “Florence fulfils destiny;
pandering, condescending treatment of women’s heats
nauseating!”
By Longtom
And, Kelly Slater sharing the stage with people who
hadn't yet figured out how to get barrelled at Pipe and who got
paid the same. Historical.
On the beach at the Banzai Pipeline, during an
adjournment in the Mens Final, Megan Abubo was interviewing the
fresh victor of the Maui Pro at Pipeline, Tyler
Wright*.
It begged the question for the viewer: Is an historical moment,
in and of itself, incredible?
Exciting?
Tyler seemed downbeat, unbarrelled during the Final. It capped a
bizarre admission that her confidence at the start of the day was
zero. She was the epitome of the reluctant victor, a potent symbol
of a sport that will brook any gulf in reality, ruin any broadcast,
to establish its credentials as the avant-garde in gender
equality.
Almost two decades since Blue Crush spearheaded a
massive thrust in womens surfing, with a Final Day at Pipeline
providing the dramatic denouement of the film. Has women’s surfing
gone forwards or backwards in that time?
If prizemoney is the measure than huge leaps forwards.
If performance at Pipe is the measure then we are way behind the
standards of the previous century.
In one of the more blackly comic scenes of the day Pipe pioneer
Rochelle Ballard was reduced to giving real-time lessons in
technique for successfully threading Pipe tubes to hapless
contestants. Carissa Moore was the only woman to demonstrate any
basic proficiency at Pipe and Backdoor. She had the butt/hip drag
stall, the positioning and the courage to huck the ledge, then go
back for more after savage donuts.
Tyler won the Final with three scrappy turns on a Backdoor wave
off the reef.
What did it take for John John to finally win?
The best Pipe surfer of his generation but no strap. How could
that be?
Whoa, wait, is John married?
He said, “my wife” at the Finals presser.
How could that happen with zero coverage?
To answer the question why hadn’t John won I went back and
reviewed every heat of his since 2013. The conclusion was
inescapable: John was a victim of his own level of comfort. He’d
wander around, get lost catching crappy waves, insane waves for us,
not heat-winning waves and leave the door open for opponents to
best him. Most famously Jeremy Flores buzzer beater in 2017.
It wasn’t so much a lack of focus but more such an extreme level
of comfort that lacked the intensity required to win.
That made him most vulnerable to head-fuck merchants like Kelly
Slater and Gabe Medina, both of whom he attacked today.
If you had to pick a yin-yang concept today it would be the WSL
broadcast versus Florences Tube-riding. The broadcast cut away from
a wave of John’s to a head shot of Tyler. They cut the hitherto
seamless You-Tube feed. The site went down, the blather was
inane.
The pandering, condescending, infantilising treatment of the
women’s heats was nauseating.
To balance, John’s ability to thread what looked like closeouts,
even to the world’s best, and find exits, particularly at Backdoor
was surfing on a heavenly plane. Taken as a complete A-to-Z
compendium of Pipe/Backdoor tuberiding it was perhaps the finest
display ever seen.
Two against Leo Fioravanti in their quarters were viciously
under-scored but were enough to bury him in the opening exchanges.
He played cat and mouse with an almost fifty-year-old man who holds
decades of casual mental dominance over him, as well as a winning
record in heavy surf, and beat him at every juncture.
Kelly laid a full-rail wrap on a Pipe wave, John laid a better,
heavier turn on a bottomless backdoor nug after emerging calm as a
master waiter carrying drinks at the Kui Lima. It was gorgeous,
gorgeous action. The total pinnacle of what pro surfing can offer
the working stiff.
With five to go in their epic semi, Kelly basically needs a ten.
Maybe that was a little harsh of judges to highball the JJF
scorecard and juice the spread but we’ll need to review the tape
later. Kelly had two monstrous attempts at Backdoor. Lost a paddle
battle with John, that looked like he won. If he had, the drainer
he threaded on the buzzer would have given judges palpitations.
As it was, John forced the interference, nuked Kelly’s
scorecard, and Florence was into the Finals.
Medina’s run in was more circumspect. A sleepy quarter against
Kanoa, followed by a scrappy, grindy (to use the word of the day)
semi against an injured Italo with more mystifying non-makes than
we’ve ever seen from Gabe at Pipeline. He had enough waves to win
the contest, including the Final where he laid down his best body
of work, but in the end never seemed at any point to carry that
dominant, winning energy that is characteristic of his Pipe
surfing.
“Pipe chooses you,” said Jeremy Flores through an early morning
of grey, wonky Pipe.
It seemed after three effortless makes from Medina at the
beginning of the Final; deep drives at Pipe, ultra-technical
backside tube-riding at Backdoor, hard drives off three-quarter
bottom turns, that he had been chosen.
The old script was a non-competitive JJF would slowly fade-out
and retreat to non-confrontational freesurfing. Not this time. He
was able to back-up his earlier barn-storming heats with patient
grinding, perhaps the beneficiary of a little love from the judges,
before putting the chin-fluff in front with a clean make on a wave
that Medina rejected.
That left Medina alone on the peak with lines stacked.
The bomb came, Medina duly dropped into it on his tippy toes and
packed it. It was a breathless moment. I’m not sure whether the
broadcast team called it.
Surely they must have.
Surely they couldn’t have been jabbering still about the women’s
historical Final. Medina failed to emerge and that was that.
Florence fulfilled his destiny. The little tow-headed skate kid
with the cool Mom and the deadbeat Dad, surfing Pipe since he was
in Kindergarten, finally wears the crown that eludes him for so
long.
No rookies further than the quarters.
As mutha-fucking predicted Ross.
Nothing but the cream rising to the top, same as it ever was,
same as it ever will be at Pipe.
Kelly still there at the pointy end putting on masterclasses, 14
months shy of his fifth decade.
And he had to share the stage with people who hadn’t yet figured
out how to get barrelled at Pipe and who got paid the same.
Historical.
*Straight rip-off of a Russian story. Has to be a tail-pad in it
for who can guess it.
(Editor’s note: Yes! Tail-pad, tee etc.)
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Open Thread: Comment Live on finals day of
men’s Billabong Pipe Masters, historic finals day of women’s Roxy
Pro also at Pipeline!
By Chas Smith
Come one, come all!
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Heartbroken World Surf League CEO Erik
Logan quarantines mid-Pacific while love-of-his-life Manhattan
Beach boasts: “With warm temperatures and plenty of
straight-handers we’re the place to be!”
By Chas Smith
Maybe that magical wetsuit of armor has one more
trick...
Oh to be the CEO of professional surfing,
locked alone in your room in the very middle of the Pacific Ocean,
streaming Real Housewives of Atlanta over a glitchy WiFi
connection, having Spam Musubis slid under your door, by gloved
hands, all mashed and misshapen, nearly single-handedly derailing
the Billabong Pipe Masters in Memory of Andy Irons presented by
Hydro Flask.
A pariah.
A pariah in the truest sense of the word.
Then salt gets rubbed directly into the wound as love-of-life
hometown Manhattan Beach, California posts a boast so hard about
how chill everything is there.
Your Manhattan Beach where you made a name for yourself stand up
paddling into straight-hander after straight-hander bedecked in
your magical suit of
armor.
Sigh.
Per the local news:
Beachside Manhattan Beach is bustling today as folks get out
to enjoy fresh air, sunshine, scenic ocean views, and all that
Manhattan Beach is! Just this morning, a socially distanced line
wound down the sidewalk near Becker’s Bakery and diners were out
enjoying meals at Uncle Bill’s Pancake House, Homie, The Kettle,
Simmzy’s, Manhattan Pizzeria, Ercoles, Sloopy’s Beach Cafe, North
End Caffe, OBs Pub & Grill, Wild Cafe and Pancho’s.
Grotesque-looking Spam Musubis and Real Housewives of Salt Lake
City.
Sad.
Do you remember how funny that wetsuit of armor business
was?