What Did We Learn From The Olympics?

Olympic surfing wrapped up yesterday. 

I watched the entire event start to finish. Every single heat. I’d be lying if I said three days of dissecting Olympic action hasn’t fried my brain a little, but here are my thoughts.

First things first: The Olympics were awesome. 

Doing something new for the first time is never easy. What we saw the past three days was the execution of a thought, that became an idea, that became a plan, that became a proposal, that became a reality. There was no precedent for Olympic surfing. Obviously they didn’t need to reinvent the wheel in terms of contest format or scoring, but they did need to make it accessible to a much broader audience whilst preserving the integrity of surf culture and identity. They did a damn fine job if you ask me. 

One of the more peculiar lessons learned was that you don’t need to be a surfer to commentate surfing. Johnny Bryan, the mysterious English voice on the Australian broadcast, clearly didn’t have a clue about surfing but he did an incredible job of building hype in key moments and laying up questions for BL to hoop slam. 

The difficulty of surf commentary is criminally underestimated. Unlike most other sports, surfing has long breaks between action and filling in the lulls with insightful conversation is a real art. Ronnie Blakey and BL have mastered it, along with a select few others. Bravo Johnny Bryan, and the network for having the guts to take the gamble. It paid off. 

Second lesson, surfing for something bigger than yourself affects the spirit of competition. Competitive surfing is an individual sport. Weighing on the shoulders of pro a surfer’s performance on any given Tuesday is endorsement deals, fame, personal goals, money and even mating prospects. “Surf teams” are rarely ever teams. They’re usually just collections of people who happen to collect checks from the same brand. Therefore, the motivations to surf well are almost always inspired by self-interest. 

What we saw yesterday was the colouring in of a platitude – No man is an island. Every surfer yesterday was part of something bigger, a fraternity, a community, an island, bigger than his or herself. It was unifying, and in a world riddled by a pandemic, political fragmentation, and socio-economic uncertainty, it was nice to share a common yen. This is why I would argue, Olympic surfing had a significance that was more than personal. It was culturally significant. 

Interestingly, this also did something to the behaviour of athletes. Wearing the flag on your sleeve means you are representing more than yourself. You are representing values and ideas. That might seem like a stretch, but I reckon the sportsmanship the past few days would be uncanny for a CT event. People shook hands, cheered, congratulated each other, and even accepted awkward photo-ops post defeat. 

I’m not one for kumbaya’s and participation awards, but fuck, a bit of graciousness was nice to observe. And how about the support for our missing Costa Rican friend, Carlos Munoz? #LetCarlosSurf was our most commented Instagram post ever by 250%. The commenters weren’t all his Costa Rican friends either. The support transcended national borders and ethnic affiliations, and included big names from both inside and outside the surf world. It mattered to people. 

Next lesson, the most obvious change to the WSL format were the pre-heat pump ups. How good! Before the final, Italo and Kanoa looked like they were about to touch gloves and square up for a fist-fight. WSL, take note. I want to see the steely jaws and white knuckles of the competitors before they hop in the ring together. Walk-out music, smoke screens and lazers next time please — imagine that with a beach full of fans. That’s a lesson, by the way.

Okay, end of the easy bit. Let’s talk wavepools.

After trawling the commentary of various surf-related media and hearing opposing opinions from inside the walls at Stab, I have come to the conclusion that there is a fairly straightforward disagreement over surfing’s Olympic ontology.  

Pro-wavepoolers make the following argument: Wavepools solve the wave-quality problem, they would allow the event to be condensed and by extension more exciting, they would create a meaningful distinction between the WSL and the Olympics, they would help with scheduling, and they would be easier for non-surfing audiences to comprehend. 

Anti-wavepoolers respond with this line of logic: They negate heat-strategy and wave-selection, They disproportionately favour surfers from developed countries that can afford wave pools, they eliminate the need to be well-rounded in different conditions and they reflect a kind of corporate culture of laziness that shuns the natural world in favour of mechanical, environmentally-taxing industrial equipment. 

Both sides have valid arguments and I personally do not know where I stand. I guess that leaves me sitting on a fence pole. But I have one final thought that might offer a bandaid remedy. 

The next Olympic event is meant to be held in Teahupoo, Tahiti. Honestly, it would be a real shame not to see lower-ranked surfers try not to get drilled into the reef at one of the planet’s more heaviest waves. 

Can we just postpone our decision until after that?