It seems only fitting the first official article written for this illustrious website would be a salute to the Greatest Of All Time, Mr Robert Kelly Slater. It seems unlikely there’s a single surfer on earth that wouldn’t include – even grudgingly – the goat on their list of top ten surfers.
As a surfer trying to adapt as quickly as possible to middle age myself, the man serves as an ongoing inspiration not to hang up the shortboards and invest in a few mid-lengths just yet (although this may be self delusion). Nonetheless; let me just put it out there – I am clearly a fan. So much so in fact, I am one of those who believes his mere smile reduces carbon emissions every time he flashes his dazzling grin. His tears, if you are able to bottle them, heal the sick, and every time he farts he restores the ozone layer. Every grom’s board he signs helps cancel third world debt, and each footprint he graciously embeds in beach sand should be bronzed for posterity.
However, he is just like any other human being out there, infallible. I’ve read his autobiography and although he’s led a stellar life, his all-too-human foibles come to the fore every now and then. Like his – ahem – “acting” stint on Baywatch. So let’s rather focus on the man’s surfing instead. Much has been said of the current crop of surfers, particularly the Brazzo’s and their housefly-like aerials – not to mention the JJF’s, the Julians, the Jordys. Nevertheless, King Kelly’s style remains timeless, even if his moves are perhaps slightly less spectacular than some of the above mentioned surfers (all of whom are at least a decade younger than the goat). Just watch that flawless backhand. I mean, c’mon – the man has won 11 World titles. That’s like, more than every other sportsperson and sports team put together in the history of time, ever. The goat simply perspires style. So much so in fact, he could probably ride the corpse of a deposed tinpot dictator in one foot slop and still casually ooze more style than the rest of us while simultaneously inspiring adoration. Speaking of adoration… Kelly Slater must be one of the few surfers worldwide that Nelson Mandela himself actually knew the name of. If that’s not an accolade, what is? Nostradamus having prophesized Kelly’s dominance of the surfing world in a dusty old cryptic document, centuries before his birth? One of the moons of Neptune being named after him? Or possibly even Neptune itself being renamed in his honour? Indeed, the very planet named after the god of the sea being renamed Planet Kelly Slater? Very cool I say. Actually… scrap that. Neptune is currently the eighth planet in our solar system. So if we renamed it after the goat, the order of the planets would thus be: Uranus followed by Kelly Slater. Uranus Kelly Slater. Pretty sure fans won’t like that at all. I digress.
Kelly is a well known face at J Bay, the centre of the universe of South African surfing. In fact, rumour has it that the ruler edged perfect waves were the inspiration for his oft maligned wavepool. The goat and J Bay are as synonymous as curry and the runs. He’s also been seen at several lesser known spots, but seeing as I prefer having functioning kneecaps and rather like leaving a car park with my tyres unslashed, I under pain of death will not say where else he has surfed in the country. Okay – fine – every man has his price, particularly in SA, so I’ll just quietly mouth two words: “bribe” and “big”. Again, I digress. But make no mistake, this probably won’t be the last article about Slates. Perhaps next time we shall discuss his role in Baywatch in more depth.
