THE worst of swells. Just imagine it, sat in Eddie HQ the Pacific goes purple during a year destined not to be an Eddie year. Excitement goes through the roof.
"Miraculous" they shout "huzza we're saved", this is attack of the giant blob territory. Ten days out and the models bring it up on the beach looking doable and west (which is normally best) but this one is just a tad too far north and too west, sending its force towards the States.
Seven days out it tucks into an iffy but still contestable size. Every day dawns and it is still the same size. Too small to call it as a certainty, too big to ignore. The wheels roll into motion and the calls go out, the flights are full and the scaffolding rises.
Dawn of the day, worst fears are realised as it is exactly as predicted, a half-way house, some want to go whilst others resist. This is where the decision is made, everyone's here cameras in tow, just call it on and cover the cracks, the surf media never tell the truth anyway. We all know that, don't we?
Or take the high road, this comp is special, don't dilute it through complacency and crumble under pressure. So the Eddie didn't run because it wasn't quite there and Quik get credit for integrity and a brave call.
© Mark Brown/Digital Quiver