When I sat down to write this post I was planning to jot down a bunch of fluff. An empty calorie meander down memory lane of my time spent working with professional surfers on the World Tour. Thankfully common sense prevailed and I realized that would be utterly self-indulgent. Most of the stories of interest I can't share because of confidentiality reasons and the rest of them are probably only entertaining to me. Instead I've decided to share a side of the men on tour that I never suspected was lurking behind the scenes.
"This all must be a bit of a shock for a farm girl from Minnesota," quipped CJ Hobgood upon learning about my roots. Not having grown up immersed in surf-culture my introduction to the contest scene was indeed shocking. I've watched grown men tear holes in the privacy mesh to photograph Slater rinsing off after a heat (seriously?), witnessed the post-heat loss temper tantrums of Andy Irons and experienced the surreal moments of watching someone ride a wave with a hundred grom eyes staring up at me because I happen to be standing next to 'someone'.
There was one instance at Lower's (Lower Trestles, San Clemente, CA) where I was standing with a group of Aussies as they were yelling in unison, "Get it grom, get it." to a man well into his 40's. He was shoving aside kids with ages in the single-digits to grab a board Kelly snapped in two. Un-freakin-believeable.
Like most things we don't have first-hand knowledge of, the tendency is to accept the stereotype. While I have met a few guys on tour who fit the Spicoli image, the vast majority of my experiences have been anything but stereotypical. I've discussed politics, the world economy and food allergies with Slater; the benefits of yoga, meditation and acupuncture with Taylor Knox; spirituality and how travel expands your world view with CJ. These men are well-traveled and intelligent. They just happen to make a living traveling the world to play in the water!
While it's hard for me to pick a favorite surfer, I can admit I have the strongest connection with Mick Fanning. Although I may go a season or two without talking to some of the guys, Mick and I seem to have this uncanny ability to cross paths several times a season. I first met Mick when he returned to the tour after suffering a complete avulsion to his hamstrings in 2004 and I was immediately in love. Such a fascinating injury for my brain to puzzle out!
Over the years our interactions have morphed from flirtatious to witty banter to philosophical. It has been fun watching him grow from a 20-something who prepared for a heat by listening to angry rock and slamming energy drinks to a 30-something who now prepares by sitting in half-lotus in a corner of the staging area with noise-canceling headphones quietly meditating.
"I just don't understand what it is Slater has that the rest of us are missing," Mick commented as we stood watching Kelly win yet another contest. "He's out there having fun, Mick. He's not focused on winning. He's merely playing. You need to get out of your head and start surfing from here. Always." I said as I playfully poked him in the sternum. "I'm trying, Shantel, I'm trying," he replied.
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