Could Ian Gouvia (insert) unite the clans?
Could Ian Gouvia (insert) unite the clans?

Europe on brink after surfing federation moves HQ from England to France in response to Brexit

The 100 Years' War redux.

British and French surfers awoke, this morning, with much uncertainty haunting hearts. The centuries-old blood feud betwixt the two proud nations threatening to explode. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Like, yikes.

The cause of the tension was not Marco Mignot being described as a “French Mexican” during the Lexus Pipe Pro broadcast but something much closer to home. Namely, the European Surfing Federation’s announced plan to move its headquarters from Penzance, in the district of Cornwall, across the Channel to France’s Lacanau in order to be “closer to European Union institutions post-Brexit.”

Jean-Luc Arassus, president, told The Times, “The federation is looking for funding to develop its activities and it makes sense to be headquartered within the European Union. But that’s not the only argument; Lacanau is very committed to promoting surfing and it is giving us an office in the town hall. We will inaugurate the new headquarters on Saturday by holding our annual general meeting there.”

While there is little doubt that French surfers will throw rose petals at Lacanau’s town hall during the annual general meeting, there is no clear read on what broken-hearted British surfers might do. A worst case scenario sees a re-ignition of the 100 Years’ War in which was triggered by a claim to the French throne from England’s Edward III.

Much blood shed.

Back to Marco Mignot, though. Were you inspired by Baby Pipe or did you curse yourself for ever getting involved with professional competitive surfing in the first place?

I found myself in the latter camp until Ian Gouveia’s interview wherein he openly wept about being back in the singlet. What a moment.

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Surf fans sad at John John Florence retirement
Surf fans sad at public announcement of John John Florence's year-long sabbatical from tour.

Are you a massive simp for pro surfers?

"Everything revolves around da guy. Sol to the other bodies orbiting around, drawn by subconscious social gravity."

The Australian summer swell doldrums broken, and the masses have swarmed. I’m frustrated from a session trying to wading through the energy of 40 other like beings all trying to get their share of the first pulse topping over 2ft in months. It was competitive and cut throat. It was unpleasant. I retreat to the shore, then the car as I wait on a mate.

I’m resting the eyes in the drivers seat when the cacophony approaches. I twist my head and squint. Two cars up a group having just excited the surf has gathered and I’m thrust into the role of amateur anthropologist.

Boards in bags, wetties striped, the car park hang post surf banter begins.

These are fine young things. Cord caps, on trend T’s, Spider Web elbow tats and booshey fringe brand style shorts. Shoeless. Seemingly both time warp travelers from the 1998 Vans Warped tour and the very essence of here and now surf cool.

These cunts are loud, crackling the carpark airwaves with loud quips, claims and curses with the nievity, lack of social awareness and confidence that only youth gives you.

Their time is now.

At the centre of the chicstorm is da guy.

Da guy is tanned, whippet skinny, shaped quisi mullet mane . His low rocketed, flashily decedent twin fin rests on the tray of a decidedly not tradesmanly used Ute. He’s surf famous-ish, you’d know his face, you’ve seen him surf but he’s peripheral. A noteworthy surfer, but not a surfer of note.

Everything revolves around da guy. Sol to the other bodies orbiting around, drawn by subconscious social gravity.

Phone footage is offered to da guy. He squints in closer. Laughs. Dissects the wave and physical mimics foot placement stance. Someone offers him food tidbits. A Mandarin slice? Kettle chips? Others feed him teed up questions on the waves he caught in his session. The ingratiation dance.

A bloke in a Baja hoodie in 30 degree heat appears hefting a tripod. Photographer. Photographer dude gets a hand grab pull in hug from the da guy because photographer is your money shot man. Keep him buttered up and feeling loved. Back of camera screen puruesed, much laughing and gesticulation at shots of what I assume to be da guy doing wave guy stuff.

Loud past and future surf plans vocalised continue to echo through the carpark, keeping da guy in conversation.

But da guy is not the story. The story is outside of da guy. Da guy is just our guy. There are da guys all across carparks and beach zones around the globe all day every day. Da guy exists in our history and the futures. Da guy is just da guy because he can surf better than the other guys. NPC everydudes if their surfing ability couldn’t be parleyed into selling the surfing dream by pick your poison business interests, but they rip, so ergo status. They ride on the blessed position afforded them in the surfing social hierarchy by notoriety and stickers.

I feel smug and self-righteous as I watch.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” I mutter to myself, but deep down I know I’m no better than these sycophantic others. I’ve been there. I’ve done the same.

Simped to my surfing betters.

We’re all just chimps and chumps.

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Brazilian surf fans
Brazilian surf fans, gladiators!

Former world #8 surfer “still has nightmares” after run-in with Brazilian surf fans

“That incident in Brazil ended my career.”

Readers of BeachGrit have long become familiar with the passionate, as it has become euphemistically known, behaviour of Brazilian surf fans. 

A brief primer: 

Read,

Brazilian surf fans apoplectic following Californian Griffin Colapinto’s “shock” win over world title favourite Filipe Toledo, “World Shame League! This event was a joke!”

and

Latin surf fans vow to create chaos at next World Tour event in Brazil following Filipe Toledos controversial loss to Californian in El Salvador, “The biggest protest in history in Saquarema! Bring banners, balloons, planes, boo all the time! Make them leave due to emotional stress!”)

Also, “Aussie Olympian Ethan Ewing under siege as Brazilian surf fans mount hostile takeover of his Instagram account”,

“Amid death threats to Ethan Ewing, Gabriel Medina pens open letter to WSL complaining of ‘shocking’ judging following loss to Ethan at Surf ranch Pro.”

“Aussie surf judge Ben Lowe sent home from Olympics after ‘inappropriate’ photo emerges of WhatsApp.”

And on and on.

Earlier today, and thanks to the Quiver Podcast, the surf fan was reminded of Florida pro surfer Todd Holland’s experience with Brazilian surf fans in 1993 that left the Floridian with PTSD.

Holland, who was trying to prequalify for the tour in a regional WQS event in Sao Paulo, needed one result to get him back in the game. He got a paddle interference on local Victor Ribas and then the crowd went nuts after the commentator whipped ’em into a frenzy of righteous anger.

Holland was chased in the water, punched in the head, and only escaped with his life when armed police, guns out, got him to the safety of a jail cell. He was advised to shave his beard and get out of the country, which he did, hidden on the floor of a car that raced him to the airport.

Unable to ever go back to Brazil, his pro career was done. 

In a classic surf journalism move, Holland’s interlocutor on the podcast is made uncomfortable by an actual story unfolding before him and so quickly shifts the conversation, but the moment is interesting for a couple of reasons: the way Holland’s voice drops and goes quiet, the pain, and the interesting fact Brazilian surf fans were nuts long before the keyboard jockeys could get into a foreign surfer’s DMs or light up on the WSL’s otherwise lightly used IG.

 

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Live Chat Day One of the Lexus Pipe Pro!

Can you dig it?

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Griffin Colapinto (left) and Lexus.

Lexus unveils “ultimate coastal lifestyle” SUV ahead of Pipe Pro!

Feat. storage drawers, a surfboard rack, a "waxing table," a changing mat and a cooler.

Close your eyes, for a moment, and try to conjure up a picture of the perfect surf vehicle. A car, truck or SUV as functional as it is stylish. An automobile that whispers “I surf” but also “I’m sexy.” A buggy so ready to shreddy that even being in its presence bumps your skill level up by degrees. Like, you can land an air reverse after riding shotgun or successfully barrel.

Now open them.

Boom.

Lexus and the World Surf League have teamed up ahead of the Pipe Pro in order to make your dreams come true. The LX Surf concept SUV is being billed as a one-of-a-kind masterpiece “seamlessly combining innovation and performance for the ultimate coastal lifestyle.”

The matte blue body and white roof scream “wave and whitewater.” The black accents growl “Da Hui.” The illuminated ladder providing easy access to a roof rack says, “I’m a Bailey man.”

Or, “I’m a Bailey woman.”

Inside, tan leather seats give way to a cargo area in the back, designed with the surfer in mind. There are storage drawers, a surfboard rack, a “waxing table,” a changing mat and a cooler.

Lexus marketing guru Lisa McQueen shared, “Lexus and the WSL are united by a shared drive for innovation, excellence, and performance. This expanded partnership will allow us to elevate the fan experience to new heights, creating amazing moments for the surf community.”

The elevated fan experience starts at $106,850 and comes standard with a twin-turbo 3.4-liter V6 that produces 409 hp (301 kW / 415 PS) and 479 lb-ft (649 Nm) of torque. It’s connected to a ten-speed automatic transmission and a full-time four-wheel drive system.

Now close your eyes, again.

Open.

Close.

Open.

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