So much has been said, in superlatives, of the wonderful things that have gone down in J-Bay, of the most amazing wave and all the legendary surfers ripping the heart out of the greatest right-hand point-break in the southern hemisphere. Yet not that much is ever written about the less cool elements of the surfing events that have taken place in J-Bay over the years, and the things we have learned from either watching from the grandstands or the webcast. It’s not all glamorous…

The worst paddle out approaches

Supers has a notoriously gnarly jump-off spot at the keyhole. It’s all a matter of timing and good old bluster to get you over the rocks and into water deep enough to duck dive. When the waves are solid, it’s a challenge. Two surfers who always make spectators cringe when attempting to paddle out is Jordy Smith and Kelly Slater. It is for one reason only and that is because neither of them allow for any time to wait for a break in sets. They are always running down late and need to launch as fast as possible. Jordy is a highly skilled surfer, but a way less skilled rock-hopper, and before long he is usually leopard crawling along the shelf to get to deep water while we all wince in solidarity.

Worst paddling style

Paddling at Supers requires one thing – put your shoulders in and muscle your way back up the point as fast as possible. Ride down to Impossibles and beyond, and even more so – dig in, scoop, move up the point ASAP to get your next bomb. Kolohe Andino paddles like he doesn't want to get his hands wet. Every single paddle movement seems that it comes within an inch of digging in, but then is quickly contracted as if the water is Just. Too. Cold. Or there are piranhas lurking near the surface. Wiggolly Dantas is worse. He paddles his small wave shooter in such a way that it looks like he’s on an 8-foot gun. So much of the board is sticking out the front that he sinks the tail around his waistline, and paddles half under water with his board waving around like he wants a pickup back to the charter boat in the Mentawais. Funny thing is, despite his ludicrously ungainly paddle style, he is still one of the fastest. Imagine if he knew how to paddle correctly. Kind of like saying imagine if Cheyne Horan had ridden normal boards? It was never going to happen and Wiggolly is never going to learn the correct method of paddling.

Worst beachside manner

The worst beachside manner has to be Strider raspberry. He walks around the footpaths, on the beaches, and in the bleachers, talking to the webcast audience all over the whole world, yet rarely engages with the average Joe in the actual live audience. What’s the point of putting someone out with the everyman, but then not engaging with them, and still looking down on them as you wriggle your earpiece around and wait instructions? Why not say hello, shaka a grom, kiss a baby etc.? C’mon dude, you do great work. Why not chill down and engage, brohemian?

Worst post heat interviews

Julian Wilson gives the worst post-heat interviews in J-Bay quite simply because he’s too nice. When he should be riled up and angry after a loss, he keeps it cool and solid and congratulates his opponent. When he should be ecstatic after a huge win against a fearsome competitor, whooping ass on camera, celebrating his win and doing the dance of joy like Italo Ferreira at Uluwatu, he instead keeps it cool and still congratulates his opponent. Julian might be heading for a world title, but he needs someone to give him an angry pill to kick a bit of passion into the mix.

Worst style

Worst style at J-Bay has to be Parko, the man who rides Supertubes as smooth as butter, as smooth as a door knob, as smooth as a bowling green, as smooth as a new laid egg, as smooth as honey, as smooth as the fur of cats, as smooth as a waveless sea. The man is so smooth there is no inflection, not crooked arm, no kinked in back leg, no extra arms waving around on a late recovery and no flapper and no flustery that would give us all appoint of contact to criticize as well as to applaud. His style is simply too perfect to be bad, and too perfect to be good. We all like a little bit of over projection, a little bit too late on a rock n’ roll floater and a desperate recovery, or a huge air to flats to layback recovery, but Parko does none of that. He just glides, as if on a cloud, collecting bonus points like sweets, along the way, from the assembled judges.