They say that love never means having to say you're sorry. But I'm writing to say just that, Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm eternally sorry for all the horrible things I've said about you, and I apologize in addition for the horrible things I've done to you. You were right and I was wrong.
These past few months, I've just been struggling to feel anything at all. I've grown numb to life; going through the motions. It's not that I don't love you - it's just that I haven't felt in love with you. That is, until I finally saw the real you again last night.
I'll admit that I've strayed. There was that night I spent writing about the SUP world tour, or the night I spent lovingly analyzing the stern, sexy intolerance of Karina Pepperoni. That was just a physical thing - Karina doesn't complete me like you do. I'm just a sucker for high cheekbones and the haughty confidence of a woman committed to Jesus and the restriction of human rights. But ASP, you're the only one for me.
Watching you at J-Bay today was a lesson in forgiveness. You made me ashamed to be the cynical, critical scoundrel that I sadly am. ASP, you taught me that love is knowing that someone isn't perfect, but seeing them as perfect anyway. Love is giving perfect 10s to surfers, even when they dig rail or kick-out halfway through a ride.
I guess, in the end, that's the difference between you and me, ASP. You're an eternal optimist. Every day of competition is epic; every surfer on tour is a world title contender. When someone gets a surprisingly good tube, you consider their wave perfect. Meanwhile, my pessimistic, critical mind wonders, "How can you give Joel Parkinson a perfect 10 when he flicks out halfway down the line? What would you have given him if he got three more barrels instead of kicking out, and capped it all off with the biggest air in history? Would that wave have been any more perfect?"
In the end, I suppose you love with your whole heart, ASP, while I only love with half of mine. You love so much that you can look past fault, and see only perfection.
Editor's note: This guest post comes from Gra Murdoch, whose site , is a, um, well, a goldmine. Mr. Murdoch graciously crafted the following news article especially for PostSurf. Take a look at his article after this - it's a rare example of a surf piece that manages to be funny and insightful without being cruel.
'Pacific Solution' Proposed To Reclaim Ocean to Pristine Glory. Thursday 9th July, Oceanic Survey Institute, Berkeley California – Scientists and Ecologists are proposing a radical solution to the 100 million tons of plastic waste circulating in what's known as the North Pacific Gyre.
“It's estimated that there are 46,000 pieces of plastic, most no bigger than a penny, floating on every square mile of the North Pacific, which is devastating marine life,” says the Institute's head of research Sylvia Watson.
“We intend to deploy squadrons of Sweepers – otherwise known as Stand Up Paddlers – to clean this up, square meter by square meter...”
The controversial proposal comes on the back of the institute's annual blue-sky-ideas summit at the OCI, where left-field thinking is encouraged.
“It's refreshing to run unconventional concepts up the flagpole and not have them immediately torn down by economists, analysts and bureaucrats” says Dr. Ken Yager, who has been modeling the Pacific Solution concept in his backyard pool in Ventura County.
Dr Yager, himself an enthusiast of the conventional 'short' surfboard, says the idea came to him one morning as he arrived at his local break to find 'an army' of Stand Up Paddlers edging towards the surf zone.
“My first reaction was that these people belonged elsewhere – perhaps far out to sea where they could do no harm – so as not to blight the inshore seascape.
“It didn't take long to reconcile their inane – some say janitorial – paddling motion with the environmental crisis that's looming over the literal and metaphorical horizon.”
According to Dr Yager's scenario, up to 50,000 stand up paddlers would be dispatched from numerous motherships in two classic 'vee' formations, one sweeping west to east, the other east-west, and meeting mid-ocean in a classic pincer movement to create a 'small island' of plastic for removal.
Though critics of the plan are skeptical that 50,000 Stand Up Paddle-Sweeper volunteers could be found and mobilized, Dr Yager is confident of attaining volunteer numbers for the program, suggesting that Stand Up Paddlers would respond well if the request was framed in an appealing context.
“Basically, if you call for help with a vital environmental program they'd run a mile, but tell 'em it's a chance to join the 'Vanguard of A Waterman Eco-Warrior Collective' and they'll fall over themselves in the rush to sign up.
“As empty a catch-cry as it is laughable, the sheer word 'Waterman' is catnip for these people.”
The scientific community remains divided over phase two of Yager's Pacific Solution, which involves vaporizing both the collected rubbish and 50,000 sweepers with a single nuclear blast.
“Ah yes, the nuclear option, I was waiting for that line of inquiry,” chuckled Dr Yager. “But let's keep things in context – this was a blue-sky ideas summit where radical ideas were there to be heard.
“It's unlikely a mid-ocean thermonuclear blast would be accepted by the international community. And though an irradiated ocean might be a fair price to pay for the final eradication of such annoying and useless detritus, it would be a shame to lose all that potentially recyclable plastic.”
When asked about the fate of the 50,000 Stand Up Paddlers in such a scenario, Dr Yager smiled and repeated slowly “what part of 'annoying ... and ... useless ... detritus' don't you understand?"
No clear winners in this war - just noise, flashes of internet bravery, and multiple casualties.
The Mailman delivered us the already-stale rumor that Slater's starting a new World Tour (no, not the Stand-Up World Tour.)
Phil Jarratt, the Aussie "surfing writer" who co-wrote Slater's last book, kick-started this rumor last week in . Now Freddy P over at is reporting that the ASP "is shitting in it's pants."
But here at PostSurf, we don't belittle ourselves by dealing in rumors.
Comments of the Week go to Sad Realization and Robert's Your Mother's Brother, for two contrasting views of Joel Tudor. If you're feeling earnest, check out comment two. If you're more comfortable with the usual dose of irony, stick with comment one.
Dare you mock the Messiah!
He brought us back life. For years we grew fat and despondent. We sat on our couches watching ESPN, seeing 1/2 glimpses of a sport we thought we knew occasionally sandwiched between college ball. But than he came, re-incarnated as a scrawny boy with a loud mouth and a chip on his shoulder. He parted the seas, pushed back against the ingrates and opened up an untapped landscape (the area 20-40 feet outside of where waves break). from there we slipped in, from dusting off our tattered 60’s logs, to moving onwards to futuristic chinese popout and glorious Costco specials. Today even the honorable Watermen who use the mighty paddle, pay homage to his leadership as they extend further our dominance in the water. We have overcome the heathens, you youth, you in shape, you talented, you … You may dominate the industry and the press with your snide remarks and unwelcomed commentary, but we own you in the water.
Hear us loud, Get out of the way.(Really, I mean it, I have very limited control over this thing, I am very afraid, and it could really hurt if I hit you.)
I bow to you Joel,
Kookbox and onward…
Lewis Samuels started a ‘blog’. I remember reading somewhere on it that he said to expect something “different”. It is. He has also given you and I - all of us - a place to state our opinions, fuck with each other, whine and whinge and write some insightful, intelligent and sometimes fricken’ hilarious comments. It’s also a forum for the less than clever, or worldly, or even literate. He’s got some passion so you, and I, may not always agree with what he writes. But I’m glad it’s available and there is no advertising so it would appear there’s no profit in it. I guess in that respect it’s a public service of sorts.
Somehow this post on Joel Tudor is a revelation or epiphany. It’s not necessarily about Joel himself, but what is being done by him (and others) and what he, and ‘it’, represents.
It’s about the incessant theft of the soul of surfing. Not the sport, but the what-ever-the fuck-it-is-other-than-a sport. The profiteering, the smarmy ass kissing, the ‘I won’t say what I really think or believe or feel because it might cost me some money or offend someone’.
One might think, and even expect, that someone like Joel (and Rasta, etc.) and all the myriad of others who have that gift to surf at that level and ability in something so difficult to truly master and something that is so special to all of us, would not siphon from it. It’s rape and pillage. As I said to someone recently, I understand why Jesus went into the temple and turned over the tables of the money changers (as the story goes). It’s sacrilege. It’s my religion. And I’m tired of it being fucked with.
All any of us want to do is be able to go surfing. That is, go to whatever beach we please, catch and ride some waves without being hassled, dropped in on, dialogued to death, have our space infringed on, etc. That’s it. Simple.
But the ‘surf’ companies need the ‘sport’ to grow. So do the pros.
The ‘Sport’. Not the action, not the feeling, not the spirit and soul of what we do, just product increase. Sales, that’s it.
It’s not about furthering the grace. That’s not what they are in it for. Maybe in the beginning, but not now.
Then, usually via ‘Pro Surfing’, they market it to the world. They are not selling the real feeling, the truth of it, the solitary, individual and personal aspect of who we are and why we are doing what we do. It’s merchandise. That is why people like Joel Tudor and the rest of the sales and businessmen ultimately turn us off. It’s about the benefit of a few at the expense of many. And the ‘many’ is us.
We are the majority. And the people like Joel that we would hope would not participate, not defect, disappoint and disillusion us. Again and again. It’s not ok, nor acceptable.
For them to continue ‘the glide’ as the author of this blog has pointed out, they have to ‘sell out’, so to speak. But it’s at the expense of you and I and anyone else who simply wants to go and ride some waves in peace. With some friends. Even with some strangers who somehow know that you can actually show respect, take turns, and coexist in the lineup. Regardless of ability level.
If there’s anyone in surfing who truly and purely deserves to make money from it, then it’s the board makers. The shapers, glassers, sanders, polishers, etc. The guys who blow the blanks, the finmakers.
No surfboard, no surfing as Wayne Lynch once said.
But all the hype, ‘sidebar’ as Ballz would say, has just gotten to a level of saturation where it’s intolerable. To counter balance it, there’s this website.
It’s good that we call ‘bullshit’ on the surfing media, on the pro’s, on Billabong, Quiksilver, Rip Curl, Volcom, Insight, O’Neill. The list goes on. When we stop, they win. And the legions of people that can’t think for themselves take over.
BREAKING NEWS: As TurtleGate enters its 20th day, our top story is the shocking confirmation that Michael Jackson is still dead.
In other TurtleGate news, PostSurf is proud to feature the photographs of Stuart Gibson, a Tasmanian photog who has recently been connected to the scandal.
In an exclusive interview, Mr. Gibson confessed to PostSurf, " I was actually on that Mexico trip with Mooney, but not on the turtle boat."
Perhaps in a foolish attempt to distract us from the truth, Mr. Gibson was kind enough to share some of his images with PostSurf.
Gibson's latest project is - a new-fangled interweb site that features fresh, daily images from a crew of top-shelf global shooters.
"Too often the work of many photographers is left on the cutting room floor, with the magazines handpicking only a small selection of images from what is often an amazing collection," notes Mr. Gibson. " goal is to bring these unpublished images back for your enjoyment."
Suck on that, you corporate surfmag monkeys! We web log sites may be less glossy than you, and we may not manifest ourselves in actual physical form, and we may not have the support of the surf industry, or any industry for that matter... but we're gonna take your ass down! Backwoods style!
This is guerilla warfare, you simple Billabong-ball-gargling bastards. And like any good gorilla at war, I'm not afraid to shit in my own hand - cause now I gots somethin' to throw at ya! Ka-POW!
Today we consider a recent Surfermag article, which brings to light three of the biggest problems in surfing today: Shithouse writers, Jiu-Jitsu, and Joel Tudor.
Let's consider Joel Tudor first.
Apparently, Mr. Tudor recently woke up and realized that he was in the middle of a recession with no clothing sponsor. (He previously rode for good ol' Op.) To his credit, Mr. Tudor also realized that he was in the middle of a bull market when it came to retro-ball-licking. Putting two and two together, Joel decided to leverage his icon-status when it comes to the vigorous application of tongue to surf legend scrotum.
Simply put: Mr. Tudor decided to cash in via his very own clothing and surfboard company - .
Here's where the shithouse writing comes in. In recent years, Surfer Magazine has made it company policy to hire writers who don't know their "write" from their left. Writers who couldn't "right" themselves out of a fuckin' paper sack, if they happened to be wronged inside of it.
.
Case in point: Surfermag's "" article, written by some vanilla-wafer-genius named Sarah De Mer. A cursory prodding o' the Google suggests that is a full-time student at Saddleback, who also enjoys baby-sitting, surfing, and being involved with the ministry.
Yes, yes, there's nothing wrong with that, and everyone has to start somewhere... but why should we suffer through her "article," as she tries to figure out how to form a full sentence? I don't blame Sarah for trying - I blame Surfer for publishing her.
Don't believe me? Try to parse the first two paragraphs of the Tudor "article."
"Joel Tudor has fused his passion for martial arts and surfing to create his recently launched Kook Box surfboards and clothing line. The Kook Box name was pulled from Tom Blake's original fin'd, hollow boards of the 30s that were used for U.S. special forces training. These same forces that were trained in Brazilian Jiu-Jitzu and by Canadian Doctor would later be known as Navy Seals.
"Throughout the product line, images and logos from Canadian Doctor's manuscripts are used, a reminder of the martial art influence of discipline that Kook Box aspires to join with the surfing attitude."
Bitch said WHAT now? Has she been using Google Translate too?
You gotta love the new contraction "fin'd." Navy Seals? Seriously? And who in custard fuck is this Canadian Doctor? (Read the that Ms. De Mer basically cut-and-pasted, and things sorta make more sense.)
Anyhoo... On to the third travesty: Jiu-Jitsu. When it comes to nauseating surf culture trends, I'll take Alaias over Jiu-Jitsu any day. A few years ago, I was pretty clueless about Jiu-Jitsu. I kept hearing about it in surf magazines. I pictured it as super-gnarly kick-boxing.
Not so much. Take a look at one of Joel Jitsu's videos below.
Jiu-Jitsu definitely brings to mind Fred Van Dyke's infamous "All big-wave riders are latent homosexuals" quote. It's 2009, people! If these Jiu-Jitsu guys want to have sex with other men, just go and do it. No one fuckin' cares. There's no need to channel that pent-up desire into a martial art called Jiu-Jitsu.
So I find it ironic that many of surfing's ultra-masculine he-man devote themselves to a "sport" in which most victories climax in wrapping one's sweaty thighs around a man's head and clasping his protesting face to one's balls.
Fear not: sporting salvation is on the way - the has announced a Stand Up World Tour!
What exactly is a waterman, you ask?
In my experience, watermen are shortboarders whose egos can't deal with the dwindling wavecount that aging inevitability brings. So they ride gigantic boards and/or employ jetskis, sails, and paddles to hog more waves, and justify it by calling themselves Watermen.
Now, like any other undereducated, under-skilled labor force, the Janitors of the Sea are unionizing: they have formed the WATERMAN LEAGUE.
Honestly, after spending a few minutes on the website of the League of Extraordinary Watergentlemen, I was tempted to think the whole thing was a parody orchestrated by a comedic genius. (Such was the opinion of reader Seaman Staines, who left the URL in yesterday's comments).
But, alas, I think this macho wankery is FOR REAL, and chock full o' caramel-covered irony...with a nougat center!
Take the Waterman League Promo video:
Did Michael Bay direct this? I love how the first shot of a Stand Up Paddleboarder shows him waving his paddle around like a cracked-out gibbon, as he burns an actual surfer.
I also love how they leveraged footage of Kelly and Parko - as if they had something to do with this custard fuckery.
Moving on to the real topic: the . Let's hear the pitch!
"The Stand Up World Tour has been introduced in 2009 to embrace the emergence and exponential growth in the sport of Stand Up Paddling. At every level, we have witnessed unprecedented interest in the sport: from the all access flat water paddling that has become popular as a cross training exercise for professional athletes (Lance Armstrong) and core fitness work out for all (incl. celebrities such as Tom Hanks, Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Aniston and Pierce Brosnan) to the high performance riding in some of the most challenging waves in the world, Stand Up Paddling has touched every level of the outdoor demographic, without the traditional geographic limitations of ocean sports.
At one end of the sport, the Waterman League is supporting mass participation races and demos to encourage access for all to this incredible sport. At the other end, the organization is gathering the world’s greatest Watermen for a world championship tour like no other, held in some of the most challenging waves in the world."
Wow. Great. Sounds like someone is cashing in, at the expense of our line-ups.
Sign me up! How do I qualify for this tour?
"The Stand Up World Tour will consist of a prestigious 32 man fleet made up of the following: An elite Top 16 athletes (decided on by the Committee listed below) An additional 8 athletes selected from an alternate list (again the decision finalized by the Committee) A final 8 athletes made up of 4 local trial entrants in each location and 4 wild cards...
The 5 key members of the Stand Up World Tour Committee are as follows:
Ekolu Kalama (Chairman of the Committee); Bonga Perkins; Duane Desoto; Leleo Kinimaka; Chuck Patterson."
As you may have already guessed, given the absolute power to choose who's on this World Tour, "The Committee" naturally chose themselves, along with a list of primarily Hawaiian athletes.
Laird Hamilton and Scott Bass did not make the cut.
There will be three events on this Stand Up World Tour - held at Teahupoo, Ocean Beach, and Makaha.
Check out the tour trailer, again directed by Michael Bay:
My favorite part: when the guy at the end optimistically says "The sport is going to be... out of control!" And then they cut to a couple clips of SUPers who are, well, out of control - ditching their boards or getting pitched over the falls.
It's a nice summation of the real issue with growing the sport of Stand Up Paddling.
The Watermen who aim to profiteer are skilled enough to control their equipment. But the legions of kooks that they're encouraging to flood our line-ups on SUPs are not.
It's simply a safety issue. Any beginner surfer, regardless of their equipment, should be strongly encouraged to hold on to their board. But SUPs are too big for the vast majority of SUPers to control when caught inside or caught on a critical section of a wave.
The inevitable result will be an increase in injuries to other surfers, along with money in someone's pocket. At least local emergency rooms and chinese surfboard factories will profit!
The Curren vs. Occy bout highlights the importance of choosing a stable sponsor.
Despite being a lovably unstable personality, Occy has been steadily employed by Billabong for his entire career. Hell, they even stuck with him when he looked like Rosie O'Donnell-with-a-bad-dye-job, and smelled like Gary Busey. (Ironically, that gamble worked so well for Billabong that they're now giving it a try with AI.)
Curren, on the other hand, was cast aside by primary clothing sponsor Ocean Pacific in '91, soon after failing to place logo stickers on his magic 7'3" Haleiwa-winning Maurice Cole.
It's been a rocky road for Op since then. They've followed the Michael Jackson path: 80s icon turned into plastic caricature of itself, only to die suddenly and then be mass-marketed after it's death.
Granted, a few years ago, Op was on the verge of a retro-cool comeback, sponsoring Joel Tudor, Taylor Knox, and Greg Long. Op tried to reclaim it's roots and link current California heroes to the past generations of Team Op.
But a visit to OP.com nowadays tells a different story: Click on "Team Op" and you'll find pictures of D-list Hollywood celebutantes, and no pictures of surfers. Op now sponsors Joel Madden, the poison petifore from Good Charlotte who was stupid enough to impregnate Nicole Richie TWICE.
Last year, Op "sponsored" an impressive team that included Rumer Willis (Daughter of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore or Mr. Potato Head and Jay Leno) and Pete Wentz. For those fortunate enough not to know, Pete Wentz is the uber-emo-douche from Fall Out Boy who was stupid enough to both marry AND impregnate Ashlee Simpson. Sensing a pattern here?
To cap things off, Op clothing is now exclusively sold at WalMart, which makes you wonder why they're bothering to advertise in Surfer or Surfing anymore.
Just to clarify - this is not OK. Sponsoring Todd Holland was bad enough. But Pete Wentz? The man flat-irons his hair and named his cash-cow celebuspawn Bronx Mowgli.
It's an impressive thing to leverage a brand that once aligned itself with Tom Curren, and re-align it with Pete Wentz. Third sign of the apocalypse, in fact.
Se uma coisa é certa depois do Hang Loose Pro 2009, é que o Brasil chegou como um surf nação. Adriano de Souza, reconhecida por muitos anos como o próximo Kelly Slater, perante o seu herói no final de uma competição que ficará na história como talvez a mais bela em ASP história. Apesar de ser assaltado por um júri tendenciosa na final, Minierho pode manter sua cabeça erguida, entre um mar de ariano suínos sem talento: ele é o melhor surfista jovens sobre a terra, sem dúvida.
Adriano provou o seu valor por espancamento Joel Parkinson, Bedê Durbidge, Jeremy Flores e no seu percurso para um match-up com Kelly Slater. As semelhanças entre estes dois surfistas, em extremos opostos de suas carreiras, são impressionantes. Muitos especialistas têm observado que o surf Flórida e no Brasil são como dois vermelhos-intituladas passo-filhos da mesma mãe desconexo. Em ambos os lugares, o ar está quente como um toque da mulher, as mulheres são as sereias, e as ondas estão perfeitamente adaptadas à forma surfistas em guerreiros. Flórida moldada Kelly Slater em um herói, como o Brasil tem moldado Adriano no próximo herói. Ambos os surfistas vêm de origens modestas, ambos têm tentou lutar por respeito e provar ao mundo que eles são campeões, mesmo que eles não crescem sugar os mamilos da indústria como o pouco estragada príncipes da Califórnia e Havaí.
Falando de estragado príncipes, uma das grandes tragédias do Hang Loose Pro estava sentado através significado irrelevante aquece com surfistas de talento não gosta Nathaniel Curran, Roy Powers, Ben Dunn, e Fred pistácios. Porque são surfistas como esta, mesmo em turnê? Ninguém quer vê-los surfar - fãs seria muito mais banhar na sopa do picantes talentos de Neco Padaratz, Jadson Andre, Victor Ribas e Peterson Rosa. Estes são surfistas vale do aço, que transportam a erguer-se com carácter de orgulho leões rasgando em sua carne fraca e débil antílopes presa. Mas de alguma maneira não estão em turnê, embora inútil branco demônios como Damien Hobgood aborrecer-nos a chorar.
O Hemisfério Sul Power Rankings, tendo em conta o Brasil e J-Bay, estará de volta em PostSurf.com após a conclusão do Billabong Pro.
Comment of the Week goes to Ballz, for re-igniting the Jordy Smith controversy known as NippleGate. I'm not sure who first broke this story, or who first noticed that Jordy's nipples are freakishly close together.
Unlike many surf fans, I'm not particularly interested in Jordy's nipples. But, in favor of due dilligence, I examined a few photos to check out Ballz' accusations.
And that's when NippleGate got interesting. Take a look at Jordy's nipples in this O'Neill ad below:
Nothing unusual going on, if you judge by O'Neill's ad.
Now, take a look at Jordy's nipples in these two non-doctored photos. Notice anything?
You don't have to be a genius to recognize that O'Neill took the unusual step of widening the stance of Jordy's nipples via the magic of photoshop.
Travesty or savvy marketing? Should O'Neill be chastized for photoshopping Jordy's nipples, or are they justified? When you pay an estimated $1.4 million a year for some simple custard pudding bastard to wear your shorts, are you entitled to doctor their nipples?
This is all sidebar. What should concern us is the state of Jordy’s nipples. They are nowhere close to symmetrical. The right nip is practically in the middle of his sternum. And the left is far too close to the right. Sort of the inverse of the skank trapped between the Hamiltons,
All of this leads me to one of two conclusions. One, Jordy is in fact a robot sent back through time on a mission to rodeo his way through as many anal cougars as robotly possible. If you are to believe this theory, you must be willing to accept that the disymmetry was an oversight by Jordy’s futuristic creators. The second, and less probable scenario is that Jordy has had work done, which is to say, implants.
Let the debate ensue… I will add that if my first theory is correct, I have hope for our future. I like the way those guys think.
Images of leisure. The color's drained out. The consequences are slim. Hours of daylight - all of it hazy.
Watch the water beads dry on the bottom of your board. Watch the water beads form on the skin of your glass. Clink the ice. Smile at her. Keep the shades on. Keep it simple. The more you say, the more likely you'll say the wrong thing.
So nothing starts today. No slabs. No tows. No sponsors. No digital.
Just the images of , groping into our American past. Shooting film, re-imagining an era he never experienced.
Why look back? Because America isn't what it once was. Surfing ain't either. It's just what it is. It's what we make it.
Billabong just announced that Tom Curren will face Mark Occhilupo in a "Clash of the Icons" heat at J-Bay.
I have nothing bad to say about this.
It's interesting to note the for this specialty match-up. Curren and Occy last faced each other in 1988, ending their rivalry with an 8-8 record. But all of Curren's 8 heat wins came in semis or finals, while most of Occy's were in early rounds.
It's also interesting to note the overall wins for these two icons: 33 event wins and a 70% heat win ration for Curren, compared to 12 event wins and a 55% win ratio for Occy.
No one in ASP history has a better event-win ratio than Tom Curren. Slater surpassed Curren a few years back in terms of overall wins (40 now for Slater, 33 for Curren) but it actually took Slater more events to win 33. Curren reached his 33rd win in 127 events, while Slater reached his 34th win in 163 events … leaving Curren with a 1:4 hit ratio to Slater’s 1:5.
I coincidentally re-discovered the trailer for "Beyond Blazing Boards" today - the first surf movie I ever saw. Check out Occ's air and Curren's vert hit. (The song is "Wild Child" by the Untouchables -I bought the vinyl back in '87 so I could psyche up for my grom sessions.)
In other ASP news, the Brazil event is on this morning, and speeding to a merciful death.
Everything is going according to script, except for Dustin Barca's advancement to the quarters at the expense of Bobby Martinez and Jordy Smith. The muscle milk is working!
I hate to write two posts in a row about women's professional surfing, but this estrogen-drenched cuntery is impossible to ignore.
Here's the short story: The Women’s Mr Price Pro in South Africa (a key WQS event) did not crown a 2009 champion, due to "adverse surf and weather conditions."
Sucks right? It's happened a few times before in ASP history - remaining competitors are left to split points and prizemoney when the waiting period passes and the waves never get big enough to surf.
Thing is, that's not why the Mr Price Pro was cancelled. Turns out, on the women's tour "adverse surf" means that it's too big, not too small.
Here's what the waves looked like on the day they called off competition:
I shit you not, Kemosabe. Take a look at the .
Here are some stellar quotes from said press release, including some justification from female pros:
Female surfers breathed a collective sigh of relief from the safety of the shoreline... as organisers of the Mr Price Pro Ballito were forced to call the event off, due to hazardous surf conditions.
Enormous walls of water in the three-meter region (8-10ft), pummeled the KwaDukuza coastline leaving even the bravest of surfers hoping they wouldn’t have to compete.
"When we got down here today I think it was bigger than 10 foot and there were two local guys that went out and only got one wave each,” said reigning South African Champion Heather Clark. “The first guy fell on his face and the other just had one big take-off - he made it, but it looked a bit sketchy and just too out of control for the girls.”
“The competitors felt conditions were too extreme and too dangerous,” commented event director Pierre Tostee. “All attempts were made throughout the day to surf at Tinley Manor but in the interest of safety, we have decided to call the Mr Price Pro Ballito off for the day.”
Just to clarify, for any medically-diagnosed morons who happen to be reading: this is a fucking disgrace. Pure and monkey-simple. These women are professional surfers - supposedly the best on earth. There is absolutely no physiological reason that women should not surf as well as men.
And bitch please, do not even THINK about writing some comment about muscle-mass accounting for the sorry state of women's surfing over the last 50 years. Layne Beastly easily has more muscle on her self-promoting frame than Rob Machado. Top pro Roseanne Hodge is 5'10 and 150 pounds - there's no reason why Adriano de Souza (generously listed at 5'6" and 137) should out-power her.
The sad thing is, a new generation of female surfers are FINALLY stepping up and proving that they are capable of surfing at a high level. I am not disparaging the abilities of Stephanie Gilmore, Carissa Moore, and their cohorts. They are on the brink of proving that women can surf just as well as men.
Which is why it's so important that female pros stop pulling bullshit like this, while offering quotes like "it looked a bit sketchy and just too out of control for the girls." The subtext of that quote is clear: girls need special treatment when it comes to professional surfing, because they're, like, more fragile than men, or something.
Why should the surf industry take these women seriously when they seemingly do not take themselves seriously?
It's time to announce the latest PostSurf Sell-Out of the Week!
Like almost everyone else who works in the surf industry, this whorish schemer has hopped into bed with corporations in order to extend the glide. Don’t be hatin’ - we all do it! Difference is, Karina Petroni does it like a porn star. And for that, she deserves to be celebrated.
Now I'm going to drop the truth on you: When Ladyfingers here steps up to the podium, she ought to thank Surfermag before she thanks Jesus Christ. This poison petifore can WORK it, but Surfermag deserves to share her award.
Case in point: Karina's on Surfermag.com.
In all fairness, it's probably Surfer Magazine who should be ashamed of themselves. Someone once famously anointed Surfer "The Bible of Our Sport."
Well, it's safe to say no one has ever even remotely considered calling Surfermag.com "The Online Bible of Our Sport." (Scott Bass deserves an award for that fact.)
Surfermag is only updated about twice a week, so when a story gets put up, it better be good. Usually, it is not.
Now Surfermag has taken the bold step of presenting a photo gallery of this cracker Eva Braun clone with a phone. It's an Ad disguised as a story. Yes, I know, that's pretty much what all surf mag stories are. But like Transworld's Gear Guide, actual advertorial features are an escalation in the degradation of surf media. And correctly referring to it as "advertorial" does not make it OK.
As for Karina Petroni, I don't even know where to start in offering you a neat summation of this deranged, self-involved pony and the fuckery that is her career. I think I'll have to save a complete breakdown for another post.
If nothing else, Ms. Petroni deserves a place in our hearts for her compassionate-fascism, as detailed in "If I Were President" article.
"As president of the greatest country in the whole world, I would lower the income tax to 10 percent. If God is satisfied with 10 percent, the IRS should be as well. Why do I have to pay 50 percent of my earnings while traveling around the, living out of a suitcase, dragging boardbags around - just so I can give my money to people who are too lazy to get off their rear ends? Nor will I give my money to illegal aliens. My Norwegian mother came in legally, so did my father's grandparents. Nobody gave them a penny. America was founded on people like that, not freeloaders living off other people's earnings. All killing of the unborn babies would end immediately. I love saving dolphins, sharks, whales and all sea creatures, but I believe the murder of innocent babies is the darkest stain on our nation..."
OK then... Sounds like Rasta has found his new mermaid - she loves helping to save all sea creatures, but she HATES helping freeloading brown people who sneak into our country!
This is a tale of two surfers, and two forms of surfing.
The ASP Brazil event kicked off a few days ago. In the first heat of the event, Tim Boal beat Jordy Smith, 12.66 to 6.10. Who knows what Boal did to beat Jordy - replays are not available. You'll never know, unless you were in Brazil, or watching the bare-bones webcast before the dawn in California.
Perhaps this is only fitting, as Tim Boal is a bit of a mystery man. What I can tell you: So far, in his rookie year, Boal has beat top-ranked surfers such as Fred "Pistachio" and Jordy Smith. Now Boal's rated =25th in the world, same as Kelly Slater.
That ought to be enough to gain a young surfer a bit of recognition, yes?
No. At least not in America.
Case in point: Surfline just ran an article, about Redbull's Mentawais Trip. Tim Boal and Jordy Smith were both on the trip, along with 11 other pro surfers.
In the opening slide, a group photo (see below) Surfline lists the names of all the surfers on the trip, from Kolohe Andino down to Peruvian grom Cristobal de Col. Everyone is accounted for... except poor Tim Boal. They identify that poor custard pudding bastard as "unidentified."
That shows you just how much Boal's heat win over Jordy Smith was worth.
Meanwhile, Jordy Smith has recently received the most press any surfer has gotten since Slater won number 9. The media frenzy had nothing to do with heat wins. It had everything to do with performance surfing: Jordy's rodeo flip clip earned the youngster (and Redbull) coverage from nearly every site out there -- from blogs to , to . Perhaps most interestingly, Jordy's flip made it to the Yahoo.com homepage via .
As a result, the clip has gotten 1,781,218 views on GrindTV alone. For reference, Josh Sleigh's kickflip on got 5,571 views - and those are big numbers for Transworld.
It's safe to say that Jordy Smith won that round against Tim Boal. While Jordy's air reached millions, barely anyone else even seems to have noticed that Boal was on the trip. Surfline apparently doesn't even know who Tim Boal is.
Cynics might scoff that this post is simply a chance to mock Surfline for their oversight, and then mock them some more for running a story about the Redbull Mentawais trip, when everyone else already ran that sponsor-fed story two weeks ago.
But my point is simply this: With this latest coma-inducing ASP event, the ASP is making the most convincing arguement yet for the ASP's irrelevancy.
PostSurf features the writings of Lewis Samuels, and details the occasionally inspiring world of professional surfing.
There is almost no justifiable reason for this site to exist, other than the fact I promised my dog that I'd procrastinate more creatively this year. Please send the abuse and requests for withdrawal to lewissamuels at hotmail dot com.
Comments of the Week: The Kitchen Sink
No clear winners in this war - just noise, flashes of internet bravery, and multiple casualties.
The Mailman delivered us the already-stale rumor that Slater's starting a new World Tour (no, not the Stand-Up World Tour.)
Phil Jarratt, the Aussie "surfing writer" who co-wrote Slater's last book, kick-started this rumor last week in . Now Freddy P over at is reporting that the ASP "is shitting in it's pants."
But here at PostSurf, we don't belittle ourselves by dealing in rumors.
Comments of the Week go to Sad Realization and Robert's Your Mother's Brother, for two contrasting views of Joel Tudor. If you're feeling earnest, check out comment two. If you're more comfortable with the usual dose of irony, stick with comment one.
sad realization says: July 10, 2009 at 10:04 am
Dare you mock the Messiah!
He brought us back life. For years we grew fat and despondent. We sat on our couches watching ESPN, seeing 1/2 glimpses of a sport we thought we knew occasionally sandwiched between college ball. But than he came, re-incarnated as a scrawny boy with a loud mouth and a chip on his shoulder. He parted the seas, pushed back against the ingrates and opened up an untapped landscape (the area 20-40 feet outside of where waves break). from there we slipped in, from dusting off our tattered 60’s logs, to moving onwards to futuristic chinese popout and glorious Costco specials. Today even the honorable Watermen who use the mighty paddle, pay homage to his leadership as they extend further our dominance in the water. We have overcome the heathens, you youth, you in shape, you talented, you … You may dominate the industry and the press with your snide remarks and unwelcomed commentary, but we own you in the water.
Hear us loud, Get out of the way.(Really, I mean it, I have very limited control over this thing, I am very afraid, and it could really hurt if I hit you.)
I bow to you Joel,
Kookbox and onward…
Robert's Your Mother's Brother says: July 10, 2009 at 10:05 pm
Lewis Samuels started a ‘blog’. I remember reading somewhere on it that he said to expect something “different”. It is. He has also given you and I - all of us - a place to state our opinions, fuck with each other, whine and whinge and write some insightful, intelligent and sometimes fricken’ hilarious comments. It’s also a forum for the less than clever, or worldly, or even literate. He’s got some passion so you, and I, may not always agree with what he writes. But I’m glad it’s available and there is no advertising so it would appear there’s no profit in it. I guess in that respect it’s a public service of sorts.
Somehow this post on Joel Tudor is a revelation or epiphany. It’s not necessarily about Joel himself, but what is being done by him (and others) and what he, and ‘it’, represents.
It’s about the incessant theft of the soul of surfing. Not the sport, but the what-ever-the fuck-it-is-other-than-a sport. The profiteering, the smarmy ass kissing, the ‘I won’t say what I really think or believe or feel because it might cost me some money or offend someone’.
One might think, and even expect, that someone like Joel (and Rasta, etc.) and all the myriad of others who have that gift to surf at that level and ability in something so difficult to truly master and something that is so special to all of us, would not siphon from it. It’s rape and pillage. As I said to someone recently, I understand why Jesus went into the temple and turned over the tables of the money changers (as the story goes). It’s sacrilege. It’s my religion. And I’m tired of it being fucked with.
All any of us want to do is be able to go surfing. That is, go to whatever beach we please, catch and ride some waves without being hassled, dropped in on, dialogued to death, have our space infringed on, etc. That’s it. Simple.
But the ‘surf’ companies need the ‘sport’ to grow. So do the pros.
The ‘Sport’. Not the action, not the feeling, not the spirit and soul of what we do, just product increase. Sales, that’s it.
It’s not about furthering the grace. That’s not what they are in it for. Maybe in the beginning, but not now.
Then, usually via ‘Pro Surfing’, they market it to the world. They are not selling the real feeling, the truth of it, the solitary, individual and personal aspect of who we are and why we are doing what we do. It’s merchandise. That is why people like Joel Tudor and the rest of the sales and businessmen ultimately turn us off. It’s about the benefit of a few at the expense of many. And the ‘many’ is us.
We are the majority. And the people like Joel that we would hope would not participate, not defect, disappoint and disillusion us. Again and again. It’s not ok, nor acceptable.
For them to continue ‘the glide’ as the author of this blog has pointed out, they have to ‘sell out’, so to speak. But it’s at the expense of you and I and anyone else who simply wants to go and ride some waves in peace. With some friends. Even with some strangers who somehow know that you can actually show respect, take turns, and coexist in the lineup. Regardless of ability level.
If there’s anyone in surfing who truly and purely deserves to make money from it, then it’s the board makers. The shapers, glassers, sanders, polishers, etc. The guys who blow the blanks, the finmakers.
No surfboard, no surfing as Wayne Lynch once said.
But all the hype, ‘sidebar’ as Ballz would say, has just gotten to a level of saturation where it’s intolerable. To counter balance it, there’s this website.
It’s good that we call ‘bullshit’ on the surfing media, on the pro’s, on Billabong, Quiksilver, Rip Curl, Volcom, Insight, O’Neill. The list goes on. When we stop, they win. And the legions of people that can’t think for themselves take over.