Steve Shearer March 6, 2009

Well, sports fans and recreational surfers, it's been pointed out that in the reference to the 'Road to Los Angeles', one of the Messiah's favourite books, I mistakenly attributed authorship to the wrong guy. It shoulda been John Fante. I knew that. I was actually thinking at the time of the Vegas nightclub singer in The Godfather, Johnny Fontane. Not such a stretch when considering the Gold Coast, and that famous scene when Duvall tells him he won't get the part in the movie, "I'm gunna make so much trouble for you".

I'd been making trouble myself with my opening gambit and was on my way north to get a thorough head-kicking , a prospect that didn't seem that appealing.

There was a hitch-hiker in my van. One of those run-down men with an overnight bag coming back from a visit to his kid in Lismore. Four stints in the state pen in Grafton. He knew Occy and Mick Fanning. Coulda been straight out of a Bukowski tale. I briefly entertained the idea of bringing him to the conny and introducing him to Dane; he may have had a shot at a bit part in Dane's blog. But no, he was making me nervous, so I dropped him at Chinderah, near a whorehouse, and I kept on truckin'.

My comments about the dismissal of Perry Hatchett had caused friction in the camp and the mood wasn't friendly. After the festive mood of bonhomie and wild celebratory performances of yesterday there was a dull hungover feeling at the site and a feeling of severe anti-climax.

Bobby Martinez launched a solid backside air and then proceeded to try and catch Taj by launching every wave. Judges still remain uncertain how to score aerial manouvres, but Taj beat him solidly with fast whips and repertoire.

Dane had indicated yesterday that his momentum and feeling of creativity peaked in the afternoon, a fact not lost on Marine Layer fans. The morning high tide didn't seem to interest him, he fell on everything. Two small points here which may be of interest in future considerations: One - if it weren't for the Tsunami then the comp would've finished yesterday, probably in the afternoon with a rampaging Reynolds taking out all comers. The Messiah denied by an Act of God? Two - I neglected to mention that in questioning Dane on his boards, which seemed to have a Jekyll and Hyde character, the magic one he rode to other-wordly perfomances in Rd2 and his QF was actually shaped by Al Merrick for.................Andy Irons. Yes, weird but true. It had his name on the stringer. Maybe in the semi some kind of Iron's curse came to fruition.

At the moment of maximum deflation over Dane's implosion I received a thorough dressing down from Steve Robertson over my reporting of comments regarding the sacking of Perry Hatchett. He took issue over the ethical integrity of my methods and the accuracy of my comments. I assume responsibility for the inaccuracy of the impression that Steve was speaking on behalf of the ASP, and also wish to correct the statement that Perry didn't have much to do with drafting the new judging criteria. He was an active participant in the drafting of that document. The question remains to be answered why the ASP would sack their head judge after he had just been instrumental in helping draft a new judging criteria and a month away from the start of the season. No-one seems willing to talk which creates an atmosphere of suspicion and distrust.

I watched the final in the media centre. It was a downbeat affair. Both Taj and Jordy fell on the opening exhange. It was clear whoever could gain composure in the deteriorating surf would take the event. Jordy snapped a board on a three foot wave and lost further momentum. Taj surfed well with faster board speed through the turn and angles on the approach to the lip. Jordy tended to look ponderous in the less powerful conditions. Turn speed seems to be the one thing that captivates the judges in this new criteria, even if it is not explicitly mentioned. In that regard Taj remains an apex predator. He was a deserving winner but by the time the siren was sounding I was heading south.

Like Captain Willard closing in on the madness of Kilgore it seems 'they didn't like what he had to tell 'em'. These are strange times for the human species. An extraordinarily hubristic view prevails that consciousness can be separated from the Natural World and somehow Pro Surfing seems emblematic of that. And yet, sublime moments of human potential exist within it. It is a conundrum, wrapped up in a riddle, surrounding a question.

The Outsider took his licks and retired to the pastures of the Ox to to pull out of the grid and prepare for another round, whatever the fuck that might be.

Thanks for reading.