You ask: Now who the f**k is Lewis Samuels?
He answers: Simple; I'm a rabid, hyper-knowledgeable surf fan who isn't shy about telling it like it is. Or at least how I see it. I have access to pretty much the same data you do, except I actually waste my time looking at every bit of it.
I answer: He's that dude that got hired by surfline; or even better convinced Surfline to offer him a salary in exchange for his ASP world tour surfer power rankings. He later on got fired because his writing was too critical of Surfline's policies of content moderation (a.k.a. they would not allow him to talk shit about surfers that were sponsored by Surfline's advertisers).
After getting fired he went on and started posting his "unfiltered thoughts on surf culture" on his blog,
postsurf.com.
Simply put he is the Perez Hilton of the surfing world. Well no, he's even more than that. Imagine a Jewish, surfer, Da-Hui hated and pursuied writer and you've got the picture.
His voice offers a new perspective to the corporate, Hawaii ruled world of modern surfing- and its absolutely hilarious.
Please, do yourselves a favour and check
postsurf.com.
Or if you are not yet convinced, here is what he has to say about Joel Parkinson following his two wins and early exit at BillabongPro Tahiti.
"Joel Parkinson can find solace in recent history. Like Joel, Slater started last year with two wins, only to fall early at Chopes. Fortunately for Slater, all the other contenders fell early, too. Same story this year, as Parko’s real rivals (Mick, CJ, and Kelly) dropped the ball. Instead, two more toothless quasi-contenders emerged from the shadows – Taj Burrow and Bobby Martinez. Only trouble is, Parko is not Kelly Slater. So there’s no guarantee he’ll win the next one. Preserving a big lead is mostly a mental game. The rest of Parko’s year might play out like a teenager on mushrooms taking a phone call from their grandparents. The internal monologue running like this: “Don’t freak out man, don’t freak out. Just act normal, do what you’d usually do… wait, what do I usually do? What does being normal even mean?? Why am I talking to myself? Am I saying this out loud? Am I licking the phone? Why am I licking the phone? Are my pants wet? Did I pee on myself? I can’t tell if they’re wet or not. OH SHIT! I forgot how to breathe, I forgot how to BREATHE!"
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