"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.”
“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.”
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corerection: Bore-‘n
Please tell me “man your crazy” didn’t make it to paper.
lol. dont think it did,,, but,,, “theres cliffs on both sides,, im not gonna paddle to New Zealand!!!” did,,,,,,,,,,
Humble, authentic, bold…a legit champion…with no IG god-like pretentious display.
In other words, the opposite of Filipe Toledo.
Instead of another wave—I think the whole right now, could use a little bit of what Joey has.
Joey owned the dawn patrol and could find the barrel like no other. Definitely an inspiration. I wish the waves were still that good all the time like they were.
nice piece, the pipe BTS is cool
‘tanks bru,,,, being from the east coast, (may be a lil corny) but felt like i was talkin to Eli or Brady… well, more Eli against Brady as he described the field he was up against. Like i said up top, speakin to him felt like almost one of us could do it ,,, or maybe that was just him evangelicalizing me ,,, hehe
fellow (recovering) east coaster, although not NE so Brady like a cuss word in my world, Eli a semi-hero for keeping TB from 9 rings.
ha!! we always recovering….. (though it is blowin pretty hard south right now- should be “epic” 3-5 ft tommowow.lol). and dont get me started on Eli— denying that 17-0 team…. and TWICE—- man, loved lookin at Belichick and Bruchi’s face as he lofted that pass to Plaxico —- and of course that TYree pass—- as some might say around here, he’s gnarly ….
lived for a bit in Plaxico’s backyard, the 757, he was a stud. And yes, hate the Pats with every ounce of my being
https://uploads.disquscdn.c…
“Joey…do you like movies about gladiators?”
Only if they premier in Turkish prisons ….
Okay kiddies put away your phones and gather round your old Unko Huli for another tale of yore from the north shore.
I still remember the time I busted my front tooth on the reef at Backdoor. That day started like most January mornings during a northwest swell. I woke before dawn and slammed 2 mugs of java before grabbing a Rawson off the rack and pedaling my cruiser to Pipe.
I knew that my old sunrise nemesis, Joey Buran, would try to beat me there riding an old rusty bike he’d cockaroached from some Aussie. Buran was a pesky long-haired towheaded kid from California who was always getting under my skin during dawn patrols.
Anyway, I saw that sneaky buggah riding past real fast on Kamehameha Hwy so I dug out onto my shortcut thru Ke Waena and caught up to him at Rockpile where we were neck in neck all the way to the OTW beach access. I dumped my bike in Craig Yester’s front yard and sprinted down to the paddle-out zone where Buran was already waxing up.
Standing right next to him we both grunted some muted greeting and the next thing I know I was stress puking my morning coffee all over his new board. It was still steaming hot and I couldn’t help but to crack up. Buran swore at me but that only made me laugh harder and I started to piss myself. So I whipped out my boto and showered his foot with some golden greetings of a Hawaiian morning.
Later on we split the peak on a couple sizable nugs but on my last wave I got head slapped by a thick lip as I tried to doggy door that pinchy end section at Backdoor. I got hammered right into that reef pinnacle that Kaipo is always prattling on about – and KEE-RACK! I could hear my tooth break and my tongue found a vacant gap inside my theretofore unmolested kisser.
Karma? Bachi? Bad luck? All of the above? I don’t care. I had my fun. That crowned tooth lasted over 25 years until I finally had it replaced by a smoking hot Costa Rican dentist in her beachfront office at Jacó. She later trilled in her sexy accented english that my gums were the best she’d ever cum across.
Anyhow, I had pretty much forgotten about Buran in the ensuing years but I do remember that he was the surprising but deserving Pipe Masters winner that same year in 1984 riding a very choice Minami shape. He beat local boys Derek Ho who placed 2nd with Max Medeiros 3rd.
Circa 2014 I read an article Warshaw penned about Buran whom he had dubbed “Sand Crab”. It seems that after his Pipe ascension he fell into some of the all-too-attractive traps that so many alpha athletes have succumbed throughout history. The last I heard of Buran was that he had finally found God and was a retired surf coach and pastor ensconced somewhere deep in Orange County.
So if you happen to be out there reading this Joey Boy, remember the eighth commandment and don’t forget you fricken’ haole faka, you still owe me that ten bucks you borrowed at Kammies market.
That was awesome.
Was
Okay kiddies put away your phones and gather round your old Unko Huli for another tale of yore from the north shore. LOL.
epic, way better than some half baked memoir wannabe, I’m sure.
Sounds like Joey was a half decent person, glad he bounced back – although as the son of an evangelical preacher, if I had a dime for every ‘i got to the mountain top and fulfilled my dreams but it was all still empty until i found god’ story I could maybe afford a new album in a pretty color
Also, jaco, early 90s https://uploads.disquscdn.c…
Wow, looks so diff today
I gotta Beatle Bar story
yeah, this street was north of the main hotel a bit, had a little inn spot with no hot water or toilet seats that we rented for $5 a night. Owners were a family with a kid named Carlos who fucking ripped, think he was national champ a couple years in the 80s (not the same Carlos who is champ today). Need to hear that story!
Stayed there many times.
nice, was there a couple times, did you run into a guy named Martyn? He taxi-ed us around on his little motorbike all over town, great dude.
Same here.
This was great …..Wonder if it’s too late to add a footnote to his memoir….. ya might have to pay residuals to the Costa Rican dentist though ….
Early November 1983 was the first day I ever surfed big pipeline. Parked on ke nui and slowly walked toward access path by Lopez house. I did NOT want it.
Right before I turned the corner Joey came running out the path toward his car with his eyes wide open and veins on his neck bulging. “Don’t bother looking just get out there! It’s 10’ and empty!”
The girl I was with looked at me like “why aren’t you excited like him?”.
That’s definitely him …. When I got the book I was like , eggghhh,,, but, after reading ,,,, he kinda converted me ……. Very cool to talk to ….
what’s the menu at Leo’s house? here’s how we serve the the locals…
Yet he Not allowed to say “Friendly Fire or Convergence NO mo…
Yet I was depending on Chaz to Be As Christ & Provide A U.S open Live Chat. Have we been forsaken again.
….. Before the gizzard chin crows 3 times ……
Great article.
Interesting point; surfing crap days at Pipe.
it’s kind of fun to surf Pipe when its stormy, onshore, waves coming from all angles and much, much less than perfect.
Joey and I are actually cave cousins.
I remember him bible thumping at the entrance to 7-11 on 101 in Carlsbad after he got sober and found Jesus. As a teenager the whole thing was pretty embarrassing to watch.
MB with Brew Briggs…inovator…went south…some storey…
I grew up surfing the buccaneer…. he was out every day.
He wasn’t Jesus.
Buccaneer is a great wave, if you don’t mind surfing in front of a sewage pipe.
Good for him.
Buran also the name of the USSR failed space shuttle program, coincidence? I think not.
“You shall not move your neighbor’s landmark, which the men of old have set, in the inheritance that you will hold in the land that the Lord your God is giving you to possess.”
-Deuteronomy 19:14
As you can see, localism is fine.
the first and guessing last Deuteronomy reference on Bg, well done
Thanks, it was actually disconcerting how fast I could find a bible verse to back up my ridiculous world view.
Deuteronomy 23-1:
“He who has been castrated by having his testicles crushed or his male organ cut off shall not enter the congregation of the LORD.”
Catholics are always writing off the OT because “yeah but, it was before Jesus came” but I reckon it’s the only thing worth reading. I mean it’s still all stuff & nonsense but at least it’s hilarious and entertaining. Leviticus is pretty hardcore too.
the pentateuch is all time!!