Want some? Have some.
Want some? Have some.

We professional surf fans deserve better than the utterly failed World Surf League and now we have it thanks to Travis Rice and his Natural Selection!

The story has officially developed.

That’s it, that’s all. I’ve had it. Mad as hell and not going to take it anymore etc. The World Surf League has failed us, extraordinarily, in our moment of greatest need. They have withheld professional competitive surfing, through bungling, lack of imagination, arrogant stupidity when Plump Pip Toledo bouncing around equally oversized Sunset could have, nay would have, been the healing ointment for these uncertain times.

Pandemic, political tension, economic stressors, emotional collapse.

Professional competitive surfing as cure. Hours stretching into days pondering Kanoa Igarshi’s wave selection instead of whether granny will live to see another rotten day.

But no, nein, nyet (which is actually spelled “net” in our English script because the “e” is pronounced “ye”) nothing and I am finished looking to Santa Monica with dewy, hope-filled eyes. Done waiting on World Surf League CEO Erik Logan to un-mealy his mouth.

Instead I shall fly to Jackson, Wyoming where the world’s greatest snowboarder, Travis Rice, has willed a whole new professional competitive tour into existence, staring pandemic, political tension, economic stressors, emotional collapse in the eye and not blinking.

Natural Selection, with its first of three stops at the famed Jackson Hole Mountain Resort (Feb. 3 – 9), will wrench our attention from granny’s well-being and has a format so simple even the most salt-crusted can follow along.

Sixteen men and eight women, each one of finest snowboarders alive, hand-selected by competent snowboard journalists, podcasteers and legends (as opposed to slogging through some nitwit QS-esque nonsense) will bash off natural and lightly enhanced features for our entertainment.

Many big airs. Much rotations.

I just so happened to be with Travis over this past New Year holiday. One evening he came home tired and sweaty, having been shoveling snow on the course all day. I was drinking bourbon and working on a puzzle of planet earth in his kitchen. “I think I did the highest air of my life,” he said. “How high?” I asked. “100 feet,” he mumbled, not impressed with himself, though I was very impressed and you will certainly be too.

We understand 100 feet.

The riders will be judged on their amplitude but also their speed, their power, their flow.

We understand speed, power and flow.

It will take the best two days of a seven day waiting period to run the event.

We understand waiting periods.

The finest snowboarders alive will then go to Bald Face in British Columbia, a fantasy land owned and operated by one of the handsomest men on earth, Jeff Pensiero. The top four men, two women, after that will end in Alaska on the same spines featured in the world’s greatest extreme sport film ever (Tom Curren’s Free Scrubber exempted).

We understand that it takes a tour to make a title.

I shall be covering it all, each stop, starting tomorrow on LodgeGrit, which also happens to be anti-depressive, and encourage you, oh weary People™, to join me there daily with coverage, ill-posited opinion, live commenting.

Long live scores in the excellent range.

Long live elimination rounds.

Long live tenths of percents.

Long live hundreds of feet.

Long live competitive professional surfing.

I mean snowboarding.

Effort. Reward. Vindication. | Photo: @parkerndavis

Astonishing: Thirty-second surfing clip reveals “everything of the nature of man and fate!”

"That is life, that is man."

Did you know there are 2024 lines of dialogue in Hamlet? 

But, would Shakespeare have felt inclined to spill so much ink and time if he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing the sport of kings?

Specifically this clip in particular?



I doubt it.

He would have lain down his quill with the words,“See that there? That is life, that is man.”

What is exhibited in this one thirty-second clip is nothing less than the full spectrum of humanity itself.

What’s encapsulated in this narrative is, in a word, literally, Everything.

Needless to say then it warrants a closer look.

The work opens with a familiar scene (Act one scene one: establish normality), a crowded line-up. The supporting cast. A wave approaches. Several figures scratch for the drop. Four make it.

Thus we have our leading men, our major characters. Three surfers and a bodyboarder. Questions of priority we will leave for ensuing generations of critics and scholars to mull over. For now we’ll concern ourselves principally with plot. The surfer furthest on the inside is lost early, call it timing, positioning, bad faith snaking – we can’t know. Save it for the prequel.

Regardless, his story is lost. Hopelessness.

That leaves three.

One, all in white, struggles in the foam, not gone, but lost. His cause looks futile.

This? Life.

The bodyboarder looks to have it. He pops to a drop-knee position. Does he know of the surfer on his inside, further towards the pocket and to whom many an observer might say the wave belongs? He seems oblivious, concerned only with his own ensuing gratification: Solipsism. Egocentricity.

The inside surfer looks back seemingly concerned with the fate of The Lost One: Compassion. Empathy. Curiosity.

Regardless of motive Inside Surfer’s focus on “the other” will prove fatal.

The Bodyboarder, either through hubris, a desire to get back further towards the pocket or out of territorial malevolence, cuts back into the path of Inside Surfer. Villainy.

The audience holds its breath.

Inside Surfer ploughs into Bodyboarder and stacks it over the lip. Out of shot. Out of existence. “Nice guys finish last,” the universe seems to tell us. Bodyboarder must surely have it now.

But wait.

Inside Surfer’s board pounces like a conscious animal still loyal to its fallen master and tonks Bodyboarder on the head. He could take the hit, hold his line, ride on. Instead he puts up his hands to guard himself against the blow and in doing so loses said line and swerves off up and over the lip! Vanity. Cowardice. Lulz. Justice.

And thus ends the tragedy?

Sweep to stage right to reveal: The Lost One, our angel all in white, once assumed to have gone the way of Hopelessness is resurrected, muscling through the foam, thanklessly and inexplicably chasing the lost cause. A picture of patience. Lazarus and Sisyphus combined. Tenacity.

But there’s still work to be done. No Bodyboard hubris here. He waits. After all, what’s another half-second compared to the previous twenty?

The wave jacks slightly.

He carves out of the foam and at last he’s on the wave!

And then suddenly the universe obliges further. From nowhere a barrel, and he’s in it, bent at the waist, slightly ungainly, a touch of poo-stance, but hey, who’s judging?

He emerges. Only a scoundrel would resent the claim: arms aloft in victory, in gratitude.

Effort. Reward. Vindication.


Lennox Head, a wildlife playground. | Photo: Photo: @9newsGoldCoast

Rumour: National Surfing Reserve Lennox Head to be site of fourth WCT event on Australian leg of 2021 WSL tour!

Local surfers refuse to rule out "weaponised ass-play"… 

As reported earlier today, the three-event Australian leg of the World Championship Tour will, likely, be extended to include a fourth contest.

Surfline suggested a double-header in Sydney but our sources have revealed the contest will actually take place at Lennox Head, eight hundred kilometres north, and home to BeachGrit’s Steve “Longtom” Shearer as well as shaper Dan Thomson and his father, the builder of “the world’s most advanced surf mat” Mark Thomson. 

You’ll also recall Lennox as being the home of “weaponised ass-play”.

Lennox is also popular with Great White sharks.

Read, BeachGrit writer eyeballed by White at Lennox: “I can feel the pressure wave on my legs; the big pectoral fins look like a plane!”and Healthy: 333 Great Whites caught on ten-mile stretch between Ballina, Lennox and Evans Head!” 

Whales, too, enjoy the area’s warm green water. 

And Sharpes Beach made headlines last October when the one-time world title contender Matt Wilkinson was stalked by an eight-foot bull shark while having a solo sesh.

“I got to feel that weird, heart-sinking but lucky feeling when I saw that footage,” Wilko said.

We’re told that the WSL’s “Competition Director at selected events”, Kieren Perrow, and Andrew Stark, the WSL’s general manager, have met with the local board riders club, Le-Ba (Lennox-Ballina), as well as stakeholders who hold the keys to unlocking a national surfing reserve to a corporate surfing event. 

The back-up site will be Sharpes Beach, a pretty average sorta wave just south of Lennox, but suddenly popular due to a surge in housing developments, including the master-planned “neighbourhood” Aureus. 

Aurea at the WSL’s back-up site, Sharpes Beach.

More as it comes. 

Surfer (pictured) being taken to beach for heat.
Surfer (pictured) being taken to beach for heat.

Reported: World Surf League considering adding fourth Championship Tour stop in Australia, creating a “competitive bubble” seven months too late!

The Thrilla in Vanilla.

There is progressive and then there is our World Surf League. Wave forecasting website Surfline has reported, in the early hours of the morning, that Santa Monica is considering sandwiching a fourth Championship Tour event in the upcoming Australian leg of an already-truncated 2020/21 season.

Australian quarantine laws are extremely strict, for those entering the country from abroad, and not bent even for tennis stars who were forced to stay in hotel rooms for a full two weeks ahead of being able to ply their craft.

Polite, mild-mannered, well-behaved, wealthy tennis stars.

Professional surfers are set to get back in the water April 1st, or thereabouts, for the Rip Curl Pro at Bells Beach followed by Margaret River (April 16 – 26) and Snapper (May 3 – 13).

Surfline is suggesting the fourth event will likely be in Sydney and a “double-header.”

The idea of a “bubble” is not new as it relates to the current pandemic.

The NBA restarted its season in an Orlando bubble in July and successfully crowned a champion in October.

The NBA plays its game indoors where men breathe in each other’s faces whilst sweating profusely.

The World Surf League plays its outdoors in the ocean where two women, or men, sit very far apart from each other unless one of them is named Gabriel Medina.

The rumored Sydney event will likely favor Pip Toledo.

Exciting days ahead.

Loophole of the century: South African surfers circumvent beach ban by vaulting shark nets, “Today we made a public stand against the silly law making it illegal to walk across the sand to practice our sport!”

Surfers stomp a righteous flamenco on South Africa's level 3 lockdown laws… 

Ain’t no secret that it’s wild times for South African surfers who want to ride or even examine waves. 

One month ago at Jeffreys Bay, a man was arrested under South Africa’s level 3 lockdown laws for checking the surf with his fourteen-year-old son and, on the beach, two surfers were busted, had their boards confiscated and were threatened with jail time. 

Cop tries to stop man’s son from filming dad’s arrest at Jeffreys Bay.

Six month ago, beachgoers were forced to flee a Durban beach when cops arrived en masse.

Now, wave-starved surfers in Durban have joined together to circumvent the ban by paddling into the lineup after being deposited beyond the shark nets by boat.

From The Surf HQ, “Today we made a public stand against the silly law allowing surfing as a sport , but making it illegal to walk across the sand to practice our sport. so this is a huge shout out to the 7 brothers who took the BIG risk of coming along for the ride with me knowing full well tonights bed could have been in a jail cell, for chartering a Boat and being dropped out deep sea beyond the shark nets to paddle over them to surf “without touching the sand” for an hour and a half,
paddling all the way back over the nets to get back onto the boat then be Police escorted to Dock to face the Law enforcement officers.”



Oddly electric, yes?