This Aggression Will Not Stand, Man
At Sunset Cliffs today, a bit of swell showed up, though definitely a few notches below what we’d been expecting from TS Fabio. The lineup vibe was fun, about 10 people out, all thankful for an escape from the heatwave on land.
A guy paddles out, face smeared in blue zinc. I can tell by the way he paddles and the way he sizes up each set, he’s out there to shred, and he doesn’t have time for any of our summer fun bullshit. This is surfing. This is serious.
A set comes through, chest-high at best, rolling in lazily as the Cliffs tends to do. It’s his wave. It’s his time. He’s been waiting a long time for this now, 10, maybe 15 minutes? When you’re frothing like he is, any time spent waiting is wasted time. He lines it up and starts paddling, popping up at the same time as the woman next to him. It’s hard to tell who has priority, he was much further inside but closer to the peak, and she was on her feet before him. Regardless, she doesn’t see him, and that’s a big mistake. He catches up to her, inching as close her as possible before letting out his war cry: “GET THE FUCK OFF MY WAVE.”
Instantly, the mood changes. Like stepping in hot gum on the sidewalk, the carefree summer day now carries with it sticky traces of someone else’s garbage. Not bad enough to ruin everyone’s day, but just annoying enough to be reminded of every step of the way.
He continues to rip. He was promised waves, and Fabio did not deliver. Every waves he paddles for and doesn’t catch is cursed with a resounding “FUCK.” He didn’t ask for these conditions. We didn’t ask to have this kind of person in the lineup.
