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. 

"It was a war zone in there!"

The eleven-time world champ is currently staggering around on crutches following serious hip surgery to repair what Slater describes, in an informal couch interview with Kai Lenny post-finals Day, as a “shredded” labrum. 

The hip labrum, if y’didn’t know, is a ring of cartilage that lines the rim of the hip joint socket. It deepens the socket, which gives stability to the joint, acts a sorta shock absorber when you rum and jump and helps lube the joint. A small but real important part of the machine. 

Slater, who’s fifty-one, said his hip has been real bad ever since he did the splits on a wipeout at Sunset thirty-two years ago and thought he’d snapped his femur. A few years later he was towing in Tahiti and  doing flips off the back of waves when he landed weird, hurt his hip, and then in the summer of 2000 he went in for surgery to clean up the mess. 

Twenty three years later he was back on orthopaedic surgeon Warren Kramer’s operating bench for a complete Labral reconstruction, again, not a labiaplasty, although can you imagine how stunning Slater might look with a little Chanel lippy in tender beige given creepy Bruce Jenner’s metamorphosis to gorgeous Caitlyn Jenner?

“They took a cadaver’s labrum, inserted it and tied it to my bone,” Slater told Kai Lenny, the boy with the mild, defenceless eyes of a lamb who, one month ago, mobilised his over one-million followers after supplies of insulin to fire-ravaged Maui were blocked by government bureaucrats.

“Warren said my Labrum was basically shredded from end to end…there were bone spurs on the femur head…I also had a lot of scar tissue. Warren got in there and said it looked like a war zone, said he had to get in there and chop through the woods.” 

Pain, said Slater, is a regular companion. 

“It would explain to me why I don’t want to surf a lot. I’m in pain a lot. It affected why back radically, trying to get to a position I internally rotate and my hip throws my back off. I already have pretty extensive scoliosis.” 

Slater’s take on Filipe’s title win and the behaviour of the other attendees is also exceptional, as you might imagine.

Essential.