"THIS IS JUST THE ICING ON THE CAKE"

The quarterfinals are a blur. Four-man heats are ferocious things. Surfers are grabbing waves from all over the lineup, and when a good set comes, every wave is ridden to the death. Joel Parkinson falls, leaving his Triple Crown lead wide open, but not before dominating Sunny Garcia -- something you'd never have imagined at Backdoor, if Sunny was injury-free.

Shane Dorian, this reporter's early pick for the win, prepares for each of his go-outs with great intensity, gearing down a board size with every heat as the swell swings further north and washes away the lefts. "I want to do well at Pipeline," he says seriously, "it's very important to me." He doesn't win his heats -- he just keeps running second, never stretching his effort, doing what's necessary.

Kelly goes the other way. His competitive blood's up the way it's rarely been this season. In the quarters he pumps up the biggest score of the day with a fearful series of barrels, including a well-earned 10. It's the second of the day. Luke Hitchings gets the first 15 minutes earlier. This is Hitcho's requalification heat; he makes it to 26th on the rankings, and 28 make it to '03. "It's been stressful," he says, "I've been hovering around 30th all year." Like having the sack dangling over you for months.

Mick Fanning is constantly in sight of Andy, heat after heat, slipstreaming the champ through the top half of the draw. Meantime, A.I.'s just cruisin'. "I'm taking the Triple Crown off ya!" he taunts Parko before the semis. "You ain't gonna do nothing!" retorts a grinning Joel. This will for sure lead to several beers later in the evening.

The north swell rip tears Pipe's heart out as the four ridiculously talented finalists paddle out. Looks more like Rocky Point on a big day.

Shane drops all pretense at chasing second. He picks his waves with the look of a man on a date with Destiny. 12 minutes into it, he has the two waves he needs, both deep Backdoor tubes to cutback combos. Everyone else is sorta futzing around in the chop. Kelly keeps getting stuck behind the section. A.I. is the only one able to get within range, using an even deeper, longer Backdoor to score 9.5.

Slater and Fanning seem to realize this is coming down to the other two, and back away slightly, letting 'em figure out the final selection. Shane holds the inside. Both are powerful paddlers, either could make the other regret a slip.

A two-wave set. Shane has to go. It's the wrong choice. "When I turned around and saw Andy on that sick next wave, I knew," he says afterward. A.I.'s winning ride, a beautiful clean pit and a vicious hacked-around cutback finished with an in-the-tube rebound, scores 8.4. There's still five minutes left, but they might as well paddle in now.

Andy's actually done everything possible. All of a sudden, he's world, Triple Crown and Pipeline champ, all at once. Kelly did it back in 1995 and nobody else before or since, till now. As the hooter blows, his fellow finalists engage him in a wrestling match in the lineup. "All right!" A.I. tells Mick. "We can hang up the boards till next year!"

"Yeah, that's like, two weeks away," is Mick's dry reply. The game's over -- for a little while. When it's on again, it'll be ON.

Reader Comments 

Posted Mon Sep 8, 2008, 10:54 PM — By zombo

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