"Be cool. Take care of your brother. Drop the
localism scene, expand! After all, when it all boils down, surfing
is supposed to be fun. That's it.”
Anyone out there remember Joey Buran? The
California Kid bounced along a wave face like a Mexican jumping
bean on betel nut. He owned a tube threading form that was not to
be trifled with.
Joey is an ’84 Pipe Master – one of only two Californians to
wear that badge, Machado being the other. He is also a Former world
number seven, ranked ahead of Curren in 1983.
Joey’s book Beyond the Dream will
come to the public in early September.
It is equal parts raw confession, ambition and distress, all
told from a Peter Pan and Mad Magazine perspective. There is a
benign simplicity resonating in Joey’s memoir. He makes little
distinction between reader and author, no underlined declaration
that he held the Pipe trophy and you didn’t, like we could lift the
cup ourselves if we put as much industry into our surf as he
did.
There are gems embedded within the pulp of his pages, like the
day he won Pipeline.
He spent a short lifetime determined and obsessing over the win.
The day off had a stacked field of surfing gods in the water,
Carroll (Tom, not Nick), Occy, Derek Ho and Rabbit Bartholomew all
in the final. Few gave Joey a chance in hell to win.
The sky was an ominous grey with north angled close-out sets and
liquid guillotines decapitating masters. Joey’s patience and
experience found the fickle west angled smaller insiders. He was as
surprised as the others when the final scores were cast over the
beach speakers. He describes his jubilation and sense of
accomplishment.
But he also depicts feelings of emptiness and listlessness as he
held his trophy for just minutes to then be faced with a “now what”
moment.
In a Beowulf Grendel’s mom revenge scene, he recounts the day he
went to cash his check for winning the ’78 Cali pro only to have
that $3k bounce. The sponsor of the event absconded with the cash.
Joey’s mama hunted the guy down and made him pay her baby boy in
shameful instalments.
He tells how he started and ran the Professional Surfing
Association of America. This was the country’s first domestic pro
tour, something he considered his first failure because he could
not get the cooperate sponsorship he wanted. Running the tour led
to “an emotional breakdown”, leaving Joey alone in his dreary,
low-lit studio apartment on the outskirts of LA.
One night, sitting there in solitude, he washed down an entire
bottle of Tylenol with a handle of alcohol, his first and last
suicide attempt. His sister visited him the hospital, mentioning
that he might want to meet her at church when he got better.
He did.
And the rest, as they say on BeachGrit, is history. Joey now
inspires others through his teachings of Jay-Z Christ.
Wanting to know more and seeking the finer details, I spoke to
Joey over the telephone from a fifth0floor apartment on the Upper
West Side while he was in Carlsbad preparing for a late Saturday
sermon.
His voice is engaging and palpable.
Hoping to connect with our mutual Catholic faith, I’m quickly
denied when the cock crows three times. Joey surmises his reason
for defection from the old Romans: “It felt like Jesus was
unattainable in a stained glass window.”
We talk about the day at Pipeline.
“OK, so, you know in NYC how you have those basketball courts
where the real ballers play, the semi-pros? The guys who got
injured or messed up their scholarships? (the ones with spectators
crowded tightly around the fence, fingers poking and gripping
though holes). You don’t just GO to that court and start playing.
You gotta EARN that court. You gotta ball in those obscure courts.
The ones with pieces of broken beer bottles and rims with no nets.
With guys who throw elbows for no reason. THEN you get to graduate,
after you put your time in……. Well, that’s what Pipeline is
like.
“I was out on the days when few people even bothered cause they
thought it wasn’t worth it. Those big, closeout north swell days. I
didn’t care. I was out there. I remember one day like that. Tommy
Carroll came up to me on the beach and said, ‘Man, your crazy.’ But
I didn’t care. I wanted to be out there. I wanted to win that event
no matter what. After all that time in the water on those bad days,
I felt like I had a cheat code, like I knew things they didn’t. And
I ended up knowing that wave. And it helped me win the contest that
day.”
After reading the book it feels like it was more than ability
that got him through.
“Yeah I had ability, as much as the next guy. But it was more
grit, unadulterated determination and laser focus. And if I was out
there with you, you better bring it.”
We talk about his decision to leave surf and his transition
toward serving JC.
“Ya know, in surfing, I was always looking for validation, a
trophy, a contest win, a ranking. And when you achieved it, it was
onto the next one. Always chasing. I recently started taking
Spanish lessons. I got my certificate. But you never stop learning
Spanish. That is what its like serving Christ. You never stop. And
you fail and succeed every day. But you continue to try and strive
and better with the failures and succeeding. I try to inspire
people everyday to be better through Christ. That is what I am
trying to do with the book.”
He tells me.
“I went to my wife the other day. I asked her, ‘Can I wash your
feet the way Jesus washed his disciples feet? Her answer: ‘Why
don’t you try washing the dishes first.”
And, this, from an old interview
with Fred Van Dyke, instructive, I think, of the sorta cat Joey
Buran is.
“Be cool. Take care of your brother. Drop the localism scene,
expand! After all, when it all boils down, surfing is supposed to
be fun. That’s it.”
