Anthony Walsh does nothing but get tubed. That’s it, that’s all. You woke up this morning, maybe had a quick surf, then pulled yourself together and went to work or school. Walsh woke up in a tropical jungle somewhere, ate a pineapple, then went for a marathon session, during which he got more barreled on his first wave than you have in your whole damn life. Later, that same day, you ate a granola bar and daydreamed about getting a little head dip after work; Walsh was dancing around on the foam ball of some big blue cavern. After work, you headed for the beach, saw a couple little wedges that looked fun, pulled on a grimy wetsuit, and, at the same time—whoosh, Walsh was flying out of a 50-yard screamer, dry-haired, having not so much as looked at a computer all day.
For example, while all of us were at the DMV, the dentist, The Container Store, wherever, Walsh made this incredible clip at what looks to be Desert Point, in about the dreamiest conditions imaginable. If you’re counting at home, that’s five (5!) barrels on just this one wave. Setting up for the fourth section—the really big perfect tube—Walsh looks bored. Imagine the ridiculous face you’d be making right there.
After this wave, Walsh caught another, then another, then another. At no point during his day did he daydream about anything else.