Unbent surf journalist (left) with Logan. Happier days. Photo: WSL
Unbent surf journalist (left) with Logan. Happier days. Photo: WSL

Deeply worried about viciously disappeared former World Surf League CEO, surf journalist books passage to Brazil in order to save onetime friend Erik Logan!

Help is on the way.

Erik Logan, former chief executive of the World Surf League, was fired in the rudest way almost three weeks ago. Since then, the Championship Tour has traveled to South Africa, Chief of Sport Jessi Miley-Dyer has reignited her love affair with swimming pools, Kelly Slater has lost another heat but Erik Logan, himself, has vanished completely.

The overactive social media user has silenced his channels, refused to respond to messages, is no longer asking young men to “take your shirt off” because he is wearing their skin. He has appeared on no red carpets alongside the effervescent Jessi Miley-Dyer, given no speeches about vectors and synergies, is just… gone.

The World Surf League, for its part, is pretending the former Oprah Winfrey Network boss never even existed.

My initial mirth at his dismissal soon turned to sorrow but now hovers in deep, deep worry.

While collaborationist surf media is moving on without care, praising the ELo years by spackling the Wall of Positive Noise, I am not able to rest. Sleeplessness haunts my nights. A spectre of Logan wearing latex, duct taped to a wall, ball gag in mouth. A shadow of Logan wearing leather, strapped to a table, ball gag in mouth. The owner of the World Surf League, Dirk Ziff is, as you know, a billionaire and… well, I’ll just leave it at that.

Stab is not going to help. We must.

I must.

We were friends, once.

Logan was last seen in Brazil, getting uncomfortably close to his employees and praising a bright future while the WSL ran the Vivo Rio Pro in waist high slop. Thus, I must start in Brazil and find him or at least find rumors of where he might have gone.

I have booked last minute passage to Sao Paulo. Did you know the most populous city in the Americas has a motto declaring, “I am not led, I lead”? It’s true and I feel Ziff might either be sending a message to the surf fans he so loathes or Logan will have beaten it out of Rio in order to enjoy Adriano de Souza’s home, knowing that it has been essentially erased from surf history thanks to the aforementioned Slater.

I leave first thing tomorrow morning. Forgive the 24 hours of silence. No wonder Kelly Slater refuses to travel to the land of Progress and Order.

It’ll be my first time down under and am certainly looking forward to the much-ballyhooed “passion” but will also not let racist dog whistles derail my mission.

Hold on, Erik Logan. I’m coming for you.

It takes forever.

Online sleuth uncovers complete footage of Italo Ferreira’s gruesome J-Bay knee injury in World Surf League vault!

Hurry before it is gone!

Thanks to our own dear Twillsy, surf fans everywhere, alongside amateur virologists, can study Italo Ferreira’s gruesome knee injury, just suffered hours ago in the elimination round at the J-Bay Open against Ian Gentil, in great detail.

The World Surf League, increasingly Stalinist, attempted to erase the moment, clipping it entirely from the heat recap, but it has yet to be disappeared from the entire day’s footage, a fact pounced upon by the aforementioned Twillsy.

What is your diagnosis?

Will Ferreira be back in the water at Teahupo’o?

More as the story develops.

Italo post and pre fall. Photo: WSL
Italo post and pre fall. Photo: WSL

Brazilian champ Italo Ferreira suffers grotesque knee injury at J-Bay though footage quickly disappeared by increasingly Stalinist World Surf League!

"I had to ditch the drums and go straight..."

The second day of the J-Bay Open, men’s division, is currently underway but surf fans, everywhere, have thoughts fixed on the fate of Italo Ferreira. The Brazilian champion was not having the greatest season of his still young life. Early stumbles had him comfortable above the dreaded cut line, as the tour rolled into Margaret River, but nowhere near challenging for a top five slot. A little fire in Lemoore, though, and it seemed like the effervescent muscleman was back.

Alas, average El Salvador and Brazil showings had him in 11th place coming into J-Bay but surf fans, everywhere, held high hopes for a dominant showing in South Africa and a dominant showing in Tahiti.

Ferreira was forced into the elimination round but looking very good against Maui’s Ian Gentil…until, that is, he took a high line to floater to flats and demolished his right knee.

The World Surf League, increasingly Stalinist, quickly scrubbed the closeup footage and mention of injury from on its quick recap vid leading surf fans, everywhere, to wonder if that right knee has been deposited in the same place as former CEO Erik Logan.

Thankfully, the beloved Brazilian has more clout than Logan and took to social media himself, declaring (in translation from his native Portuguese), “I had to ditch the drums and go straight p/ the hospital after making a mistake and injuring my right knee. Unlike last year I was unable to carry on after being in so much pain. I’ve been working hard to be strong and avoid this kind of injury, but unfortunately there is the risk! Hope it’s nothing major and I can go back as soon as possible, just with other plans! Because i cannot achieve my ultimate goal. Everything has a purpose and if it’s meant to be that way, one way or another in the future I’ll figure it out and God will show me the best way. Thank you for the strength.”

Logan sleeps alone.

Comment live, Corona Open J-Bay, as Kelly Slater fights for life in elimination round!

Can world title contender Jackie Robinson put the GOAT to the sword or will ageless Kelly undulate, again, like belly dancer of old?

Logan and two of his favourite tour surfers, Jackie Robinson, left, and world champ Filipe Toledo. "Take your shirt off," cheeky Logan says to the Brazilian.

Obituary: In Loving Memory of Erik “Elo” Logan, disappeared by World Surf League, June 29, 2023

In truth, surfing never loved Erik Logan.

Some men are content with their own patch of dirt, watching a few meagre seeds of a lifetime’s hard work flourish around them. Content to live in peace, even if that means being forgotten or unremembered.

Erik “ELo” Logan was not one of these men.

For Erik, no dream was too big.

He’d grown up in a fine neighbourhood in Oklahoma City, where sometimes tornadoes would whip up dust clouds so fierce young Erik’s tears would roll onto his chin like little soft balls. When Erik wasn’t crying, which wasn’t often, he enjoyed dressing his Action Men up in tuxedos with no pants, and pulling the legs from daddy long legs.

Relentlessly driven by the tough love of all the strong women in his life, Logan developed a catty confidence that was to see him have early success in showbusiness. First, as Chuck The Duck, then later, Cody The Coyote, where duties included singing country music songs and sucking golfballs though gardenhoses.

Adopting other identities suited Logan, and he worked his way up the sticky corporate ladder. Soon, dalliances with Oprah Winfrey led to an ego which had become swollen like the bulbous purple head of a little bullfrog, and this, eventually, would lead to his demise.

In January 2020, the mysterious billionaire Dirk Ziff, appointed him as CEO of the World Surf League. Logan stroked out on his own into the shark infested waters of professional surfing with a wetsuit made of armour and some clean, shiny Vans, falling head over heels for surfing.

Here was where he could make his name! Because all the surfers would just be like yeah brah and whatever. What could they possibly know of the clever showbiz tricks and fruity wordplay he would use to control them?

And yes! He could be a surfer! Why not? If Johnny Utah could do it, so could he. He’d be dirty dancing with Swayze lookalikes before he knew it, leading them a merry jig.

His dream was set.

In the early days, Logan could often be seen with his personal Instagram photographer, doggy styling on a SUP. He preferred double Vs to shakas, but was not afraid to use both. The early signs were not promising. The sharks began to circle.

In truth, surfing never loved him. The waters were too muddy, too full of wizened old creatures either entirely disinterested in his presence, or quick to tear him from arsehole to nipple with the ease with which one might draw a paring knife across the skin of a peach.

He changed his look for surfing, adopting a cultivated rugged appearance, like a man with fewer worries. A man who could executive produce mediocre TV shows like Ultimate Surfer and Make Or Break one minute, but wear a t-shirt with the chest tattoos of his star athletes the next. He was not afraid to instruct his athletes to remove their shirts. He was the boss after all.


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A post shared by Erik Logan (@elo_eriklogan)

He touched foreheads with Jack Robinson in Hawaii, showing how connected he was to indigenous cultures. He was even thinking of getting himself an outrigger. And he insisted Dave Prodan called him uncle (which he was only too happy to do).

Logan was fond of the passive-aggressive open letter as a medium of communication. He penned two significant letters of pointed prose during his tenure.

The first was a response to a group of surfing professionals who had filed a petition against the Mid Year Cut, a new-old format change for the WCT that saw poorly performing, browbeaten surfers axed halfway through the season. This letter castigated the surfers as if they were silly little children who should be seen and not heard (preferably with tops off).

Letter number two again responded to disgruntled Tour professionals, this time a contingent of World Champions in Filipe Toledo, Gabriel Medina and Italo Ferreira, surfers from a nation whose fanbase might not be Logan’s preferred flavour, being mostly not rich and white, but who have almost single-handedly propped up the World Surf League during his tenure.

Again, this letter had “a tone that lies somewhere between a dictator and a domestic abuser”, according to one chronicler of surfing on minor surf blog, BeachGrit.

Erik Logan did have one bright spot early in his career, the first and only time he would engage with surfing’s gutter press. Logan manhandled BeachGrit’s Charlie Smith in a podcast debate, skipping jauntily around Smith’s ill-prepared questions and aiming sharp little kicks to his ribs in a neat little jig of corporate verbiage. Not since the heady days of Goggans vs Smith had the latter been taken so roughly.

Indeed, Logan’s speciality was to deliver lashings and lashings of mushy corporate word salad. He was particularly adroit at window-dressing bare-faced lies, flubbing numbers, and wielding amorphous statistical evidence, leading many to believe that professional surfing was a runaway success under his watch.

But for a man who valued drama and narrative above all else, he suffered an ungracious, flat ending. No drama, no narrative, Merely disappeared mid-event to the tune of a rudimentary press release. A vaporisation perhaps befitting a man who ran the WSL in a manner not inaccurately compared to Stalinist Russia.

Logan’s Instagram states he is still “living life one wave at a time”.

As an arbiter of surf competition and storytelling, that wave is a closeout in perpetuity.

“No competitive pursuit boasts counter-culture roots cunts as strong as like surfing.” Sydney Morning Herald profile on Logan from March 2023: The Former Oprah Exec Bringing Soap Opera To Surfing