More smoke from "The Interview!"

The dust has begun to settle around Stab magazine’s stunning admission, yesterday, that it is openly and proudly a shill for the World Surf League. In exchange for receiving schedule releases hours before other surf media and the ability to license footage, the premium subscription surf blog will happily dress propaganda as news and roll it out to its audience all while heavily patrolling the discourse.

Like the China Global Television Network except without delicious noodle dishes or orange chicken!

Well, whether Stab wants to be in the “revealing details” business, or not, some very fine details were revealed in the wake of the Jessi Miley-Dyer interview that got this whole ball rolling. New editor, and onetime beloved BeachGrit contributor Michael Ciaramella, is always one to face the music. A wonderful trait. In explaining to frustrated readers why he let the World Surf League’s Chief of Sport off the hook, Ciaramella shared that he only had fifteen minutes with Miley-Dyer and a PR flak was on the phone too, trying to hurry the conversation along.

What?

The World Surf League requires its Chief of Sport to have a minder and crazy time limit when chatting with already-collaborationist media?

How do you like them apples?

Like North Korea except cheap and pointless!

The lengths to which Santa Monica goes to tamp down honesty is… wild. Are bodies actually buried or something?

Erik Logan’s?

Erik Logan’s “mistake?”

When I first got my start covering professional surfing at its highest level, then called the Association of Surfing Professionals, I acted in much the same way that I do today. Fabulously roguish. Then CEO Brodie Carr decided he’d like to address it, challenged me to an arm wrestle and came into the bar with his hood over his head, shadow boxing.

I fell in love, then and there, and wrote a piece of fawning, so completely un-journalistic that even with Stab embracing its new ringer role, it won’t be able to top.

Those were the days.

But, seriously, what is the World Surf League trying to hide?

A very-near future sale to Bahrain?

We already know, bros.

The great American surf road-trip.

Anti-depressive news broke hours ago, buoying surfers who have become extremely morose in recent days. In a whirlwind of bummer, the World Surf League announced that Filipe Toledo will be crowned champion in 2024, premium subscription surf blog Stab got to work erasing the problematic word “Teahupo’o” from its archives in preparation and the Wall of Positive Noise grew that much higher.

Dark times.

But ho! What light through yon window breaks?

It is a 10-year-old boy and his 11-year-old sister stealing their mother’s car in Florida and making it over 200 miles in an attempt to make it to California and instantly becoming the heroes a beleaguered surfing community so desperately needs.

Police deputies stopped their car near Gainesville at 3:00 am after it had been reported stolen. They were prepared to face off with some hardened criminal though were shocked when a small pair of hands flashed through the window. The young ones were, thankfully, not harmed with their mother driving three hours to fetch them. Police marveled at what a good driver the boy was while surfers remembered that great American roadtrips used to be part of our culture.

When was the last time you tossed your board into the back, buckled up and really drove somewhere far away in order to surf? Ten-ish years ago, I was rented a car in Orlando and drove to every corner of the Sunshine State, sampling waves in New Smyrna, Pensacola, Tampa, even Miami.

Just me and the open road.

It was a wonderful time and, thanks to the brave work of that brother-sister duo, front of mind once again.

Exactly what we all needed.

But where would you go on your ideal great American surf roadtrip?

Or great Australian surf roadtrip, if you happen to be down under?

Did I ever tell you about the time that I was in Margaret River for the contest? So, I was in Margaret River for the contest, fourteen, or so, years ago, standing in the parking lot when the dustiest car rolled up. Bugs splattered across windshield etc. Chris Ward got out and declared that he had rented a car, after the Bells contest, and driven across the entire continent, arriving just before his heat.

Some 3500 miles.

Later, I learned that he had to drive the rental all the way back to Torquay because they wouldn’t accept it in Perth.

That’s the sort of pluck I’m talking about.

"WSL has enough critics for a free-to-air sport that’s doing the best it can on a shoestring."

Hate to beat a dead horse here but… who am I kidding? Dead horses are what I was made to beat! Stab admitting, just thing morning, bald-faced, to being a World Surf League shill has been a story of a day. The fact that it was just doubled upon, Kelly Slater level bald-head, is something special.

The word “dickhead” being used in the title while that word is verboten in their comment section also something special.

The World Surf League, anyhow, seeking to quash an early uneven reception to its 2024 Championship Tour schedule with the cancellation of J-Bay and the continued abortion of Finals Day at Lower Trestles, turned to its media partner in order to interview employees dependent on billionaire Dirk Ziff’s continued funding and have them prop it up.

While praise was seasoned with the perfect admixture of “WSL has enough critics for a free-to-air sport that’s doing the best it can on a shoestring. Don’t want to be too much of a critic as there’s more that goes into their decisions than most people realise,” the whole business stinks of a perfect collaborationist marriage.

Again, billionaire.

The World Surf League has found its mouthpiece all for the low low cost of providing free licensed footage.

Dave Prodan, suddenly, on the ropes.

More as the story develops.