The Inaugural Venice Pier HobOlympics! / Surf Report June 12

Still looking good; again

Same as the last three mornings - waist high, fun, peaky windswell with shoulders sometimes staying open, few more closeouts today, but still the occasional long ride and lots of turns. Looks fun.



7 out north of the pier, 0 out south, 2 more getting in, street parking about 25% gone. Overcast, calm, glassy surface.

The HobOlympics – yes indeed. Let me try to convey the majesty, the grace, the sublime beauty that made up the Inaugural 2007 Hobolympics.

The morning got off to a bit of a rough start as the boyos were all in attendance, with the notable exception of Dave who had foregone the chance at Olympic glory for the certainty of scraping a boat, but there was a problem.

The cops were there rousting everyone, but in particular Victor, who had a half full can of Camo Silver Ice 21 in his hand as they pulled up.

Here are the cops rousting Victor.



But as we all know, Victor is a likeable guy, and he was soon explaining to the female corporal that he was in fact a famous Internet celebrity, that his biographer (me) was here for a photo shoot and that if the cop would just look up and smile that I would make her famous, too.

So she did.



The problem with the tickets is not the ticket itself, it’s the fact that if the cop runs your (real) name you get busted as you haven’t paid the last 23 tickets the cops have given you. None of the boyos have ID so it’s like a game they all play; the boyos pretend they’re going to pay the ticket and the cop pretends you're telling him the truth when you give him your name and personal information.

Attitude is a big part of making this work, though, so no mouth or attitude to the cops. It’s all “yes, sir – no, sir”.

Here’s Victor being lectured by the rookie and looking very contrite and serious as he signs and accepts his ticket.









He takes the thing, sits down and gives me this look like “Oh shit, I better hurry down to City Hall and pay my fine!”

What do you think the chances are this one gets paid?



While the police were finishing up with the boyos I went to get something to eat and let the scene die down. On my way there Jeff from Ridershack comes up to me and asks-

”That didn’t last long, did it?”

”What, that? Oh, that’s just Victor and the boys having a bit of fun, we’re still on.”

At which point he hands me a bag inside of which are 6 T-Shirts he had made up especially for the event. Here he is with his wife / girlfriend (sorry, I don't know which one), Lacey, holding one up for the camera.



What I want you to pay special attention to, though, are the Olympic rings – they are made out of Malt Liquor labels! How cool is that?

CLICK TO ENLARGE



Needless to say it was an extraordinarily gracious gesture; thanks again, dude.

So, I finish eating, come back to the tables and get all the details on what had transpired. The core group of 5-6 guys like Tommy, Leprechaun, Victor and Christian were there but there were also about 5-6 other…..participants….who I had seen rarely, if ever, down at the pier.

But this was an athletic competition, and we are nothing if not egalitarian at The HobOlympics, so I welcomed them aboard.

First up was the “chug-of-war” so I took orders for beer. Requests ranged for everything from Camo Silver Ice 21 (Victor), Budweiser (Leprechaun), Whatever the Fuck Has Alcohol In It (Christian) and even something called “Hurricane” by Randy and a couple of the other irregulars.

Off I went to the “little fucking Korean” and filled up a soft sided cooler with 2 beers for each contestant. Even at “little fucking Korean” prices I was able to get about 14-15 24 oz. beers for only 20 bucks.

I head back to the picnic tables and tell everyone to pack up.

The reason for moving was that the day before Tommy had raised concerns about chugging beer at the tables. He felt that it was just too dangerous, from their standpoint; sneaking a beer under your newspaper is one thing, turning the pier into Mission Beach at Spring Break is another.

He had a solution, though; why not take the whole party onto the pier and do it out there?

That way they could see the cops coming from a million miles away and there would be no way for the police to get out to them before everyone had a chance to either finish their beer or pour it out. Since they can’t arrest you for what’s already inside your body everyone would be home free.

So we went out onto the pier.

Randy, unlike a lot of the other contestants, had not gotten an early start on the festivities and was obviously a little parched. He offered to “carry the beer on his cart” so I wouldn’t have to lug it all the way out onto the pier. Ten seconds after that beer hit his cart he took off ahead of us.

Here he is leaving us in the dust.



So, we get out there, everyone gets comfortable and I hand out the Malt Liquor.

You could cut the tension with a knife – the first, real, live HobOlympic event is about to start! I expected some sort of surprise fly over by F-22’s or something of the sort, but nothing materialized.

I raised my hand and said -

”On your marks, get set – GO!”

A chorus of pop-tops was the response; Christian even let out a little USMC “Hoo-rah”.



The spectators in the crowd were all on their feet as I explained the rules -

”OK, the first person to finish their beer gets: Ten Dollars!”

Ten Dollars? You fucking serious? Shit, noone told me we could win money! I better start chugging…...

You can see by the angle of Randy’s beer can that he now knows it is game time so he starts pounding away in a very serious manner.



It soon becomes clear that Randy is either going to win this thing or die trying. I can honestly say that I have never, anywhere, seen someone chug beer that fast. I focus on him as I can sense that Olympic History is about to be made.



Notice how his beer, "The Hurricane" from Anheuser Busch, has “High Gravity” in it.





Look at him straining – no gymnast or alpine skier has given more effort or wanted it more.





Until at last – Victory!

”Look, Mom, I finally won something!” he shouted.



Victory was short lived as Randy at this point did not look so hot. Was that smart to drink that whole thing so fast?



Apparently not as he gets up and makes a beeline for the garbage can.



He stands next to it and looks in. Everyone is egging him on, calling him a pussy and saying that he’s going to puke. They were ragging him pretty good and he was trying real hard to keep it down.



I guess there wasn’t quite enough “High Gravity” in this particular can of Hurricane, though, as Randy couldn't keep it down. First came a little spit….



And then, well, you can probably guess the rest.







Everyone at this point is laughing so hard that people are starting to stop and stare. It lasted for a good ten minutes until finally Randy quit spewing.

Victor, not wanting him to feel bad, came up and gave him a hug, one contestant to another.



Randy was despondent. Not only was he not going to win the beer chugging contest and the $10 first prize, he had just wasted an entire Hurricane!

”Matt, do I still win?”

”Well, I don’t know Randy. This was the chug of war, not the vomit competition. You think that was worth ten dollars?”

”Yes. Yes, I do.”

”Well, I don’t, and since I run the games my word is final”

”Damn”

”It was not worth ten dollars – it was worth twenty. That was the coolest thing I have EVER seen. Here, take a $20.”

His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas as he saw me pull the twenty out of my wallet. I would have taken a picture of him holding up but I was still pretty much laughing at the memory of him puking his guts out, egged on by the motley crew that is the boyos, while Mom and Dad stroll the pier, trying to have a relaxing Saturday stroll only to see a crew of the roughest looking characters this side of prison chuckling at someone blowing chow big time.

The rest of the crew was still thinking about it, too, because a few minutes later they decide to check out what Randy had deposited in the can. God only knows what would have happened had I not been there with a camera.



At this point my plan was to let the competitors rest for a few minutes before going back off the pier and moving to the next event, the Snipe Hunt.

The beer went quickly – almost everyone finished their first in a couple of minutes and then moved on to enjoy the second cold beverage. My buddy Tim had thought he might want to have a beer or two himself and had stuck a a six pack of Budwesier in the cooler. When he went to have one they were all gone. Here he is not drinking the beers he bought.

(Ed, Note: Since I posted this report a week ago my buddy Tim has broken up....again....with this chick. So, in order to make sure that the breakup takes - for me at least, if not for him - here he is with his "girlfriend" after a little editing on her face.)



Everyone was laughing and having a good time. There was one little weasley guy who I had never seen before who came up to me and said-

”Hey, Matt – what can I do to get ten bucks from you?”

”Are you coming on to me?” I asked “Get the fuck away from me.’

To make my point I sucker punched him in the kidney when he turned around, which brought another round of laughter from the guys.

”No, it’s cool, sorry dude” he said as he collapsed in a pile.

As I turn back towards the group I see Victor who, at some point in the last 45 seconds, has decided that he needs to sleep – right this very minute – and is curled up on the pier, beer still in hand.



Since the passing out contest was scheduled for later in the day the group elected Lynne, the only woman in the group, to pester Victor awake.

It was a challenge as Victor had been up the whole night before drinking and "fighting some asshole" in the swamp down by the canal. Finally, after much effort and the promise of a fresh beer, they did get him back on his feet.



Shawn and Jeff, two of the readers of the site, who had come down to cheer on their favorite hobo, were watching some of the surfers when Victor went over to spread a little of his particular brand of wisdom.



It's funny to see how people who read the site react when they first meet one of the boyos. As much as I like them and think they are funny there is a component of their being that is best exeprienced third-hand, via the Internet. Shawn and Jeff handled it pretty well and soon brought up a subject that was completely unexpected.

"Did you see Minnie when she rode by?" said Jeff

"Minnie - Minnie who, Mouse?" I asked.

"No, Minnie Driver; she just rode by on a bike headed towards the end of the pier"

"Get the fuck out of here - you serious?"

"Swear to God, she just went by. She was with some dude but it was definitely her."

"Well, that sounds interesting. What do you supposed the chances are that she's secretly a reader of the site and came down to check out the HobOlympics on the sly?"

Jeff looks at me and says-

"Pretty fucking slim, I'd say."

"Yeah, you're probably right. But that's no reason why she shouldn't be part of the festivities. Christian!"

"Yeah, Matt?"

"You want to get your picture taken with a famous movie star?"

"Hell yeah! Which one?"

"MInnie Driver"

"Who's she?"

"She's the chick who played the female lead in 'Good Will Hunting'"

"She cute?"

"I think so."

"Fuck it, let's go!"

So we walk out to the end of the pier where, sure enough, there's Minnie Driver sitting on a bench at the end of the pier.

Now, my opinion of Paparazzi is pretty low so I wanted to be as unobtrusive and polite as possible. Since the benches on the pier are back to back I told Christian to just sit on the bench behind her, turn to the side and I would go around and get the shot from the other side.

He sat down and I walk around to get the shot.

"Miss Driver? Sorry to bother you but I'd like to get a picture of you with my buddy here."

As I put the camera up to my face she lets out this petulant, bitchy, "I can't believe it" grunt of exasperation and shakes her head in disbelief. She pretty much acted like I had just asked her to sign autographs to each of my 12 children when all she really had to do was turn her head about 30 degrees to the right, look at the camera and smile.

Here's the shot I got.



As I put the camera down I say to her

"Thanks again, I appreciate it; I used to be a huge fan."

"Used to be?"

"Yeah, used to be - until about 15 seconds ago when I met you. Bye."

As her jaw drops her boyfriend looks up and for about 2 seconds thinks he's going to say something. He then takes a little closer look at my size and Christian's demented overall demeanor and changes his mind.

By the time we got back to the party some travelling guitarist / musician had mistaken the HobOlympics for a normal gathering of friends and had set up shop; he had even put out his tip jar. Talk about humping the wrong leg; but he wasn't bad and soon the whole gang was singing along to Mary Jane's Last Dance by Tom Petty.





After giving it his all and still coming up empty (at least they didn't steal the tip jar) he realizes his road to riches lays elsewhere and he packs up and moves on.

At this point I brought up the subject of moving back to the picnic tables and getting to the next event, the Snipe Hunt, the response to which was unenthusiastic to say the least. All they wanted to do was sit there, soak up the sun and drink beer; it's almost as if the only reason they were there was for the malt liquor!

Surprised not at all by their sudden lack of motivation, I offered to make another beer run to reward the contestants. So, another trip to the "little fucking Korean", another 30 bucks spent on more malt liquor and a couple of packs of smokes and soon everyone had a cold can of poison and a cigarette.

It was actually very rewarding to see their faces; they had all just had a good time, shared some laughs and had enough of their particular vices to get them through the next couple of hours on a beautiful, sunny day - no worries at all. This was about as good as it gets for them.

There were many more pictures than I could work into the commentary, here are a few random ones.















I couldn't have done this without help so I want to thank Jeff and Lacey for the T-Shirts, Shawn, Jeff, Kurt, Roger for coming down to watch and my wife for not divorcing me for doing such a kooky thing. I also want to thank everyone who reads this blog; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Most of all I want to thank all of the boyos - they made me laugh harder than I have laughed in a long, long time and I will never forget what I saw this past Saturday.

Here's to you guys and let's start thinking about HobOlympics 2008; I know you'll be training for it!