Brock Little chimes in after a Summer and Fall of silence.
Hello everyone. I haven't written for months, so I'm probably going to bounce all over the place. No excuses for not writing, just that I suck.
Let's start in July. I'm in Chicago, working on Transformers 3, and bouncing down the street comes Pat O Connell. He's with some other guy about his size who looks kind of familiar. Upon closer inspection I can see its Shane Victorino, center fielder for the Phillies. Shane is from Hawaii and he's kind of a big deal here. Getting Pat to leave Creek to go anywhere is hard, but he leaves to go to Chicago? Turns out Victorino loves Hurley, and Pat. He set Pat up with killer seats, and Pat went for it. I was a day late though, saw them the day after the game.
I came home in mid August and it sucked. Summer was not good in Hawaii. I surfed bowls a few times. It's always fun, but sometimes not worth the drive. As a rule, when I drive two hours, I like to surf two hours. Doesn't always happen.
September. Time for the Hurley Pro. I gotta commentate. I think I like it, but it does take a day or so for me to get rid of my web cast butterflies. I'm a puss. I'm not going to reminisce about how great it was; if you're on this sight, you already know it was epic. The level of surfing was insane. It kind of bummed me out. I don't surf anywhere near as good as the guys on tour. I used to watch heats, and every so often, there would be someone I thought I could beat. When Victor Ribas was on tour, I had him. Marlon Lipke (or something), last year I was taking him down. This year I'd be lucky to get past some chicks. On pretty much every wave, the guys were doing things I only dream about. I'm a kook. Nah, maybe if Luke Munro or Gabe Kling had a really bad heat, I might have a shot.
I guess I'll write about October and November in my next blog. They were good months.
Good night... Brock