Surfing, the art form half Zen meditation and half pure adrenaline rush, has morphed into a dichotomy as wide as the Pacific. On one shore, we have the World Surf League gladiators, donning their jerseys like armour, battling it out in the Colosseum of waves for glory and cash. On the other, the free surfers, the rebels without a cause (or a clock), sliding down liquid mountains on their terms, chasing the eternal stoke rather than a score from the judges. This piece is an ode (and a slight ribbing) to both, seen through the eyes of surfers dipping their toes on both sides of the reef. We’ve already discussed Free Surfers, but now let’s stack them against those competitive humans too.
Let’s start with the WSL warriors. Competitive surfing is as much about strategy and mental fortitude as it is about skill and style. These athletes are under the microscope, scrutinized by judges, scoring on criteria that would make a mathematician blink. It’s a pressure cooker, one that has produced diamonds like Kelly Slater, who, despite being old enough to be the father of some of his competitors, still shows up and shows off, proving that age is just a number, especially when you have a quiver of world titles under your belt.
But let’s talk about the real MVPs of this scene: surfers like John John Florence and Carissa Moore, who’ve managed to straddle the line between competitive beast and free-surfing spirit. Florence, with his casual approach that somehow turns into absolute domination on a wave, and Moore, whose grace and power on the water defy logic, both embody the competitive spirit while holding onto the soul that draws so many to surfing in the first place.
Then, there’s the realm of free surfing, a universe unto itself, where the only judge is the ocean (and maybe your GoPro). It’s the domain of the mad scientists of surfing, where innovation and expression are the currencies of choice. This is where Craig Anderson and Dane Reynolds reside, two surfers who could easily compete on the world stage but choose to push the boundaries of what’s possible on a wave without a bib number. Anderson, with his effortless style that makes everything look so damn easy, and Reynolds, the power and progression personified, have both contributed more to the sport from the sidelines than many do in the competitive arena.
Chasing that sponsorship pack
The fuel that keeps the surfing world spinning isn’t just the thrill of catching the perfect wave; it’s the backing of sponsorships, an essential lifeblood for both competitive and free surfers alike. In the cutthroat arena of the World Surf League, sponsorships can mean the difference between a surfer’s ability to travel, train, and compete at the highest levels. Brands are eager to align themselves with these athletes’ discipline, determination, and sheer talent, turning surfers into icons of sport and style. On the flip side, in the realm of free surfing, sponsorships serve as a crucial endorsement of a surfer’s creativity and influence, allowing them to pursue the art of wave riding without the constraints of competition. These sponsorships not only provide the financial support needed to chase swells around the globe but also offer surfers a platform to influence surf culture and fashion, pushing the boundaries of the sport beyond competitions.
Social Media artists
For free surfers, social media channels aren’t just digital spaces; they’re deep oceans where they can navigate their careers with unprecedented freedom. These platforms serve as crucial conduits for showcasing their artistry, innovation, and wild surf expeditions to a global audience. Beyond the break, Instagram waves, YouTube barrels, and Facebook swells offer free surfers the opportunity to secure sponsorships, engage with fans, and influence surf culture and trends directly. In this era, a well-curated feed can be as valuable as a trophy, turning once-unknown riders into surfing celebrities and tastemakers. Social media, thus, transcends its role as a communication tool, becoming a pivotal element in the career progression and personal brand building of the modern free surfer.
The Crossovers
But here’s where it gets interesting: when competitive surfers take a walk on the wild side. Take Jamie O’Brien, for instance, a Pipeline master who’s as comfortable in a WSL jersey as he is lighting his board on fire (literally) for a free-surfing stunt. Or Mick Fanning, who, after stepping away from the competitive circuit, has been chasing slabs and sharks with the same fervour he once reserved for world titles.
The style shift between competitive and free surfing is palpable. In the arena, it’s about precision, the perfect execution of a set routine of manoeuvres designed to rack up points. Outside, it’s about expression, the search for that one ideal wave or manoeuvre that might live on in Instagram infamy. Competitive surfers are like well-oiled machines, their routines polished and predictable. On the other hand, free surfers are the jazz musicians of the sea, never playing the same song twice.
So, what’s better? That’s like asking if pizza is better than burgers – it depends on your taste. The competitive scene offers the drama and glory of athletic conquest, the chance to write your name in the annals of surfing history. Free surfing offers freedom, the pure joy of riding waves without the weight of expectations.
The crossover between these two worlds is where magic happens. When competitive surfers bring a little of that free surfing soul to their heats, or when free surfers take on a big contest and shake up the establishment, it’s a reminder that at its core, surfing is about one thing: love for the ocean.
So, whether you’re grinding through heats or just searching for that perfect wave, remember: at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to find that moment of perfect harmony with the sea. Whether you’re wearing a jersey or not, that’s something worth celebrating. And to those who can do both and carry the competitive torch while still keeping the free-surfing flame alive, we salute you. You’re the real MVPs, bridging the gap between two worlds with nothing but a board and a dream.
