Jordy Smith living up to the hype. Photo: ASP|Rowland
Well, he had to perform sometime. The most overrated, over-hyped surfer in the world right now finally earned his keep at Trestles yesterday. And yeah, admittedly, it was kind of amazing. If there is one place on tour that Jordy Smith should do well, it’s Trestles. But then, you could say that about Snapper (25th), Bells (9th), and J-Bay (13th), too. Not to mention Tahiti (25th) and Fiji (13th). It’s been a bludger of a year for Jordy so far but, again, if there is one place his repertoire is built for it’s Trestles. Born and bred in Durban, the home of high-performance beach breaks in Africa, he recently relocated to nearby San Clemente, meaning he’s had more time in the lineup at Trestles than almost anyone else on tour.
He began his final day charge with a win over Mick Fanning in the quarters, a surfer who you know is going to push you all the way. Few surfers have a win over Mick in them. Jordy is one of the few, but on his current form you’d have said no chance. Yet, that’s the funny thing about Jordy. So reliant is he on confidence and self-belief, it’s as though his whole season can turn on a single wave. And that’s what seemed to happen against Mick. His 8.17, awarded mostly for two huge turns, including a signature man-carve tail slide, put him in a commanding position with ten on the clock. He had been trying to fire himself up all event with exuberant claims — writing himself checks, clicking his fingers, etc. — but they just seemed overdone and shallow when contrasted against his hot and cold form. With a buffer between he and Mick, however, Jordy began to find that elusive swagger of his and when Fanning clawed his way back into it, in what amounted to an old fashioned dogfight, Jordy had the mettle to fend him off. The turning point came in a crucial paddle battle in the dying stages. Jordy got the better of Mick, giving himself priority and choice of the final set of the day, which he used expertly for the win.
He drew the man Ross Williams calls “The Surgeon” in the semis. Ace Buchan’s backhand was as sharp as ever at Trestles, as he precisely scalped the crumbling sections time after time. It was exquisite backside surfing; exceptional in its accuracy and timing. He sent Medina packing in the quarters and might have done the same to Jordy, had he not fluffed a last-second end-section belt. He fell a point short of victory.
It set up a mouth-watering final: the original big money hype-machine (Jordy) versus the current one (John John Florence). Leading into the final, it had been Jordy’s ability to use every millimeter of the Trestles canvas — sneaking in little fades you didn’t think were possible, and showing remarkable athleticism with his giant frame — that had done the damage. He saved his best ’til last, opening the final with a three turn combo (for a 9.33) that was as good a run of explosive, linked, technical maneuvers as you’ll ever see. John John threw everything at him, but never quite found that wrapping horseshoe right that had so earned the wrath of his patented frontside jam in the earlier rounds. Still, with 20 seconds on the clock, it looked as though he’d done enough. By rights, you shouldn’t be able to win a contest at Trestles with your opponent requiring only a seven. There were sevens everywhere if you wanted them, and so it was only right that Jordy found one on the buzzer, stomping an end-section Hail Mary of an air reverse for the win. That’s one you claim, big dog.
