Justin Jay's portraits of a north shore winter
The beach was packed with a record number of spectators that day. John had just won the Triple Crown – his second in three years, but judging from the look on his face, he viewed this win as a Pyrrhic victory. His coveted Pipeline Masters win had just been snatched away from him by Kelly Slater in the waning moments of their heat. With just moments to spare, Kelly was able snag a trademark miracle barrel and secure the score that he needed to win. His dramatic last-minute upset is something that we've witnessed Kelly execute against countless competitors, sometimes with seemingly sadistic timing. But somehow this match had felt different. John had held a significant lead for most of the heat. He was composed and relaxed. All of the elements seemed to be falling into place for him. For a brief moment, it appeared that John might actually be able to trounce the master and steal the pebble from Kelly's hand. Not this time.
John John stood on the manicured lawn overlooking Pipeline. His hand-carved Triple Crown trophy was at his feet and a vibrant wreath of victory flowers rested in his hair. He was surrounded by friends, family and sponsors. He deserved to be proud. He deserved to be reveling in his illustrious performance. He wasn't. It was a bittersweet moment.
Just minutes earlier, Mark was actually one of the first people to greet Kelly at the water's edge when he won the Pipe title. The bottle of champagne that Kelly chugged, and that was subsequently captured in countless photos, was actually handed to him by Mark. Despite this, Mark is one of the few people that had the credibility, the history and the sincere warmth of spirit to be able to toggle between the Slater and Florence camps so quickly and effortlessly after such a potentially divisive heat. He strolled up to John and gave him a heartfelt and compassionate hug. His brief embrace conveyed an untold measure of empathy and kindness. An unmistakably elated grin appeared on John's face, but only for a brief moment.
See and read more of Justin Jay's Portraits of a North Shore winter, including a great story about Bruce Irons flying a drone to see if Nathan Fletcher is awake yet, via The Inertia.