The self-described "best boxer in the UFC" thrills fight fans with a surprise cameo at a Japanese wave tank… 

If you love to see men beat hell of each other, but with a little honour and skill and on a canvas floor slippery with their blood, there ain’t a better soul to watch than the Hawaiian UFC featherweight Max “Blessed” Holloway. 

The self-described “best boxer in the UFC” makes his opponents look slow and clumsy as he rocks and sways and paints their faces and guts with his little fists. 

Holloway, who is thirty-one, is the husband of Hawaiian surf star Alessa Quizon (once the gal of no-longer-balding Caio Ibelli) and grew up on Oahu’s west side, which is also famous for the production of Sunny Garcia and Johnny Boy Gomes.

A few months back, Holloway stunned fight fans when he conquered the famous Waco pool and over the course of the past few days has proved his skills weren’t a fluke when he commanded the Shizunami Surf Stadium a couple of hours out of Tokyo.

Sharing the waves with his former pro wife Alessa, Holloway attempts a high-line into a tube, performs a shallow-water Haka and poses for photos on the shoreline. 

He ain’t the only Hawaiian fighter who likes his pools.

Hall-of-famer BJ Penn nearly became surfing’s first pool fatality three years back when he was sucked outta the tank and into the engine room.

“Last year when I got sucked into a wave pool engine room and thought I was going to die… I kept thinking “don’t die for your kids” I was surfing for a about an hour and the line started getting longer to catch the wave. I was sitting next to the owner of the wave pool by the “wall” where the waves come from. The first wave it shoots out is a dud to get everyone ready for the next wave.

The dud wave came back and because I was so close to the wall the wave swallowed me and pushed me and my surfboard underneath a huge cement wall. I remember feeling like I was getting sucked in a pipe and at that moment I got scared. It ended up pushing me into a big dark cement room that fills up with water to push the next wave for the wave pool. It felt like I was in the movie SAW or Final destination. The room would fill up with water to the top and I would hold my breath and then it would push the water out to make the wave and it was really rough inside there. Everything I bumped up against in the room that hurt me got infected. I got a bad sinus infection and a couple facial fractures from getting knocked around the cement walls and from the fractures the dirty water got in my face and infected my whole sinus. I was on antibiotics for three weeks for my face.

While I was in the wave pool engine room I knew that one of my friends outside from big island is a legendary surfer and I knew he would come in there to rescue me so I stayed calm. A lot of other people might have panicked and maybe gave up but I just stayed strong for my kids. Anyway to make a long story short I survived that mother fucker 😛😛😛 !! The name of the people and water park have been left out. I not the kine guy shows up to your house to play and gets hurt and tries to sue you so all love ❤️ to everyone who helped me get there and helped me survive 🤙 Maybe I was the first guy in history to get sucked into a wave pool engine room while it is in operation but no matter what happens in life and no matter how scary it is if I can offer you any advice I would just say to “stay calm”. If I didn’t fight tough cunts my whole life I might have panicked, but it was just another day in the office.”

“All in plain sight for the blind sheep to see…”

The temporarily crippled eleven-time world surfing champion Kelly Slater has finally addressed claims he is a member of a secret Masonic order and that the logo of his popular surf brand Outerknown is modelled after the Masons’ compass and square.

Slater, who is fifty-one, ain’t one to back down from an online skirmish, instances too numbers to list or link but the most enduring, I think, is when he hit back at an historically inaccurate troll who claimed US military involvement always ended in failure. 

(Slater had jokingly suggested the US Navy sink 260 Chinese fishing boats in the Galapagos Islands.)

“You would be the type of fool to advocate for military violence and US involvement overseas,” wrote the troll. “The US needs to stop fucking policing the world. Getting the military involved has never helped anything it’s always the same people who end up hurting and having to pay for it.”

Slater’s riposte.

“Fuck off. It’s a joke, albeit a serious topic. I’m currently and always have been anti war. I’m also pro environment and wildlife. And I don’t really give a shit to talk to you or hear your opinion so fuck off.”

A new front has opened up, however, after Kimo Clark posted a debunking of conspiracy theories surrounding the devastating wildfires on Maui.

 

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“I don’t mean any disrespect to people believing these ideas,” writes Clark. “There are a ton of confused and hurt people affected by the fire. I am also a victim who lost my home, my neighborhood and the place I grew up in. 

“I think it’s healthy to question authority and processes. But do it for your own knowledge, not to jump on some band wagon that has no factual basis or because it’s what your friends believe or whatever latest social media trend is.”

The conspiracy busting Slater, who has previously taken on flat-earthers responded, “Humbling to hear your words about the situation, the people affected, and the outlandish ideas carelessly being spread. Hopefully this is heard far and wide to counter some of the nonsense. Thanks for bringing sensibilities and respect to the people doing their best to help during and after such a catastrophic event. Sounds like we need more like yourself.” 

As is the norm in online discourse in came the freaks, 

“Kelly is just a puppet to his masters the Masonic Order they have an agenda he’s just following his orders… #nothing his outterknown logo the Masonic Compass and Square all in plan sight for the blind sheep to see!” 

And, “His logo is a Masonic compass and square… you need to research whom controls your reality…be objective.” 

(More, too, including: “Just goes to show you can be awake to the vaccines and still fast asleep to the weather modifications and weaponising of weather throughout the world. You’ll be woken up very soon.”

Slater quickly squared off, “You taking about me and our company logo that is a literal ‘O’ and ‘K’ for Outerknown?”

And, 

“Nobody owns my mind. The Masonic thing is cute…I just wish I knew what benefits its affords me that I’m not getting.” 

Kelly Slater, of course, is no stranger to conspiracy theories himself and believes there’s a “lot of fishy things about” 9/11, that those pretty white plumes of smoke from jet airliners ain’t so pretty, mainstream media lies etc.

See and marvel at Caio's miraculous transformation!

The Brazilian Caio Ibelli, he with the flawless patrician features and rosebud month who, repeatedly, garrotts world champion surfers, mostly John John Florence and Gabriel Media, but also including Kelly Slater, has undergone gruelling hair transplant surgery at a clinic in Brazil.

Details of the surgery are in Portuguese but the images are clear, Ibelli had been fighting baldness for at least five or so years, and has finally zigged where others, Slater, Julian Wilson, zagged.

Knowing little about the process, oh you should run your fingers through my lion’s mane, a rich nut brown with only a few grey tendrils, I asked AI to write five hundred words on the process in BeachGrit’s houses style.

Ah, my dear friends, today we embark on a follicular journey of epic proportions, a subject that many of us, at some point in our lives, have contemplated with both awe and trepidation: the hair transplant. Yes, that’s right, the miraculous transformation from a barren scalp to a luscious mane worthy of a Greek god. So, gather ’round, my follicle-challenged comrades, as we dive headfirst into the world of hair transplants, where vanity meets science in a symphony of hope and self-esteem restoration.

Picture this: a man (or woman) staring at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes locked on that ever-expanding bald spot, that cruel reminder of the inexorable passage of time. The receding hairline, the thinning crown – it’s a sight that can crush one’s confidence faster than a steamroller over a paper cup. But fret not, for in the modern age, we have a secret weapon against follicular despair: the hair transplant.

Now, you might wonder how this magic trick is performed. Well, it’s a dance of art and science, a tango between skilled surgeons and the marvels of medical technology. First, there’s the extraction phase, where healthy hair follicles are harvested from a donor site (often the back of the head), which typically boasts an abundance of lush, resistant hair. It’s like plucking the juiciest grapes from a vineyard.

Once these precious grafts are harvested, it’s time for the main act – the transplantation. The surgeon, armed with a fine-tipped needle or microblade, delicately implants these follicles into the barren wasteland of the recipient area, creating a new forest of hair where there once was a desolate plain. It’s like reforesting a deforested landscape, only with hair. The precision required is nothing short of surgical artistry, and in the hands of a skilled practitioner, the results can be truly breathtaking.

But, my dear readers, don’t be fooled into thinking that a hair transplant is a simple procedure with immediate, flawless results. Oh no, it’s a journey, a slow and steady march toward follicular redemption. After the surgery, there’s a recovery period, during which the newly transplanted hairs shed, leaving you with a temporary but nonetheless disconcerting hairless look. It’s like a caterpillar in its cocoon, undergoing a transformation into a magnificent butterfly.

Patience is the name of the game here, for in the weeks and months that follow, those dormant hair follicles gradually awaken from their slumber, sprouting new strands of hair. It’s like a symphony slowly building to its crescendo – a crescendo of confidence and newfound glory.

Of course, as with any endeavor, there are risks and potential pitfalls. Infection, scarring, and unnatural-looking results are all possible outcomes if the procedure is not performed by a skilled and experienced surgeon. But fear not, for the world of hair transplantation has come a long way. Modern techniques, such as follicular unit transplantation (FUT) and follicular unit extraction (FUE), have greatly improved the safety and naturalness of the results.

Now, my friends, let’s address the elephant in the room – cost. Hair transplants are not for the faint of wallet. The price tag can vary widely depending on the extent of the procedure and the geographic location of the clinic. But consider this an investment in yourself, an investment in confidence and self-assuredness that can pay dividends for years to come.

In conclusion, the world of hair transplants is a world of hope, a world where science and art converge to restore not just hair but also self-esteem and confidence. It’s a journey of patience, with the promise of a lush, vibrant mane at the end of the road. So, if you find yourself gazing at your reflection with follicular despair, remember that there’s a path to follicular redemption, and it’s paved with skilled surgeons, cutting-edge technology, and a dash of vanity. Embrace it, my friends, and let your hair flourish like a field of wildflowers in the springtime.

Hideous but a close approximation!

Watch Caio’s miraculous transformation here!

Little known glitch in the end-of-year points calculation dooms three-time world champ Medina.

The World Surf League, surfing’s governing body which is currently for sale if anyone wants the shrivelled grapes from that withered vine, is again under siege after an online sleuth claimed Gabriel Medina was “robbed” of a place on Finals Day at Lower Trestles.

You’ll remember in mid-August when, in rapidly deteriorating four-foot waves, surf fans fondled themselves into a state of near nervous collapse after Australian Jack Robinson muscled his way through Medina to win the Tahiti Pro and a spot on Finals Day.

Now, and via the shaper-centric podcast The Dust Up (episode, “What shit luck for Gabriel Medina”), John ‘Robbo’ Robertson reveals Medina’s place in the showdown was effectively stolen thanks to a little known glitch in the scoring system.

Correct me if I’m wrong and the old eyes do tend to glaze a little reading rule books, contracts and so on, but the old way of calculating the end of year ranking was to drop your two worst events and add up the result of, say, the other eight if it was a ten-event year. 

Robbo says, correct me if I’m wrong etc, that a surfer can drop one event in the first half, but not in the second, presuming they made the mid-year cut. Which means, it pays to come on relatively late in the season points wise. 

To wit, 

“Gabriel had a cracker first half of the year. Worst result was a 332o, a ninth maybe, and the back half of the year he had a shocker, worst result a 1330, a seventeenth at Rio and he had to keep it. That’s a 1990 points difference. The result (had he been able to throw away the 1330 not the 3320) would have taken him from sixth to fourth position in the ratings. Would’ve been in the top five. The only surfer who had a worst result in the back half of the year was Ethan and  Ethan’s was an injury.” 

Robbo gives a pretty good example of how the new way of calculating end of year points can go real bad. 

“Imagine if in the first events your worst result was a quarter-final. You’re top three in the world going into the back half the season. Going into the back half of the  season, you win two events…get injured and you miss the final three events. So the quarter-final is a throwaway.” 

Theoretically, and possibly, the surfer who dominated the year before tweaking their ankle or whatever misses Finals Day. 

Fascinating yes? 

Listen here, comes on real early in the poddy after the intro.