“You better go on this or you will never catch a
wave here again grom!”
Last week, David Lee Scales and I enjoyed a live version of our weekly podcast at the
Belly-Up in Solana Beach. The stars of the eve were the great Rusty
Preisendorfer, Taylor Knox and Jojo Roper who shared stories of
truth and grit with an impressive and engaged audience.
It was all more personal for one man sitting amongst The
People™.
Mr. Hand, you see, had once, long ago, encountered the
aforementioned big wave hellman at a scary San Diego slab. What
happened in the water haunting him to this very day.
Here is his story.
I want to thank you guys for a wonderful evening at the
Belly Up. My wife and I went and had a lovely time.
Now for something not so lovely. I have a Pros in the Wild
regarding Jojo Roper and to be clear the not so lovely part is in
reference to me, not Jojo.
This was back in 2008 when I was a junior in high school and
was filled with the unmerited confidence that many high schoolers
have. What better place to prove myself than the legendary La Jolla
reefs.
That winter I had some fleeting successes at this break to
add to my unmerited confidence, so I was especially pumped to see a
decent swell in the forecast. The big day came; the crowd was heavy
and the waves were even heavier. Knowing my place, I relegated
myself to the shoulder and picked off any scraps that would come my
way.
After hours of shoulder sitting, the session changed. People
went in, the tide sucked out and what was left were staircasing
slabs on nearly dry reef, myself, and a handful of guys including
one Jojo Roper.
I looked over the edge on a couple but only saw barnacles
below. At this point I knew I should not be out there. The
remaining crew, Jojo included, were making drops I could never
dream of and getting absolutely barreled. But my young hubris would
not let me go in until I caught one of those monsters.
A set was approaching and it was swinging wide – right to
the shoulder. Jojo was paddling back out and he could clearly see
my timidness. Jojo looks me straight in the eyes and says “You
better go on this or you will never catch a wave here again
grom!”
Heart racing, I put my head down and paddled as hard as I
could. I felt the wave start lifting me up and I saw the water
sucking out below, but I was too late. I pulled back. Being called
into a wave by a local legend would be a high schooler’s dream, and
I blew it. I didn’t even look back as I started the ultimate paddle
of shame.
I have come back to that spot a few times over the years but
haven’t gotten any more than scraps and eggy crowds including high
school groms who can actually shred. Jojo’s curse has
stuck.
Fast forward 16 years and I am sitting in the audience with
the buzzed-head sorcerer himself. DLS has opened the mic for
questions I have the prime opportunity to have the curse mercifully
lifted. But, just like how I pulled off that wave, I stay lips
sealed, nervously glued to my seat as DLS announced last call for
any questions echoed in my head.
Jojo’s curse will endure and I will continue a living a life
forever on the shoulder.
Brave to share. but do you have a similar story? Out in a rising
sea, trembling internally? Did you stiffen your spine or shame
paddle?
You are amongst friends.
