This post is mostly for myself, in hopes that I don't get too excited over this week's world title showdown, which in all likelihood will come up well short of expectations. I am of course thrilled there is a showdown of any kind in the offing. Way too often the deal is done days, weeks, even months before the final hooter. Back the '90s, Slater usually had one hand on the world title trophy by Labor Day.

But even when two or more surfers are fighting it out going into the last event, the outcome almost never satisfies—Courtney Conlogue fizzling out in Round Four at Honolua week before last, to pick the latest example. World titles are so often handed over like that. Ratings leader Wayne Bartholomew lost to Ken Bradshaw in the season-ending event at Haleiwa in '79, then #2 man Dane Kealoha lost to Edwin Santos, then #3 man Cheyne Horan lost to arch-rival Peter Townend in the semis, at which point Mark Richards—4th in the rankings when the day began—more or less had the crown drop into the codpiece of his Superman outfit. Sunny Garcia, Mick Campbell, Danny Wills, same deal, they all voodooed themselves out of a title at the last moment, thus further crowding Kelly's mantlepiece.

On at least one occasion, the showdown buildup was actually undercooked. Tom Carroll looked so bulletproof going into the 1988 Billabong Pro (the last comp of the season, held at Pipeline, which wasn't always the case back in the High Ridiculous epoch of world tour surfing; WSL fans, count your blessings this thing ain't wrapping up in Sydney next April) that nobody bothered to fire up the hype machine. But Carroll's "numbskull paddling interference" (Derek Hynd, not mincing words) against Todd Holland left the door open for Barton Lynch, who rushed through like the net-wielding lepidopterist he'd been as a child in Whale Beach and claimed his prize.

To the best of my recollection (by no means the high-functioning Omega-oiled machine it once was), on only two occasions has the men's pro tour world title has come down to single winner-take-all heat, and both were less than spectacular. The Slater vs. Irons Pipe Masters final in 2003 was held in wobbly head-high rights up near Beach Park somewhere. It was a four-man heat, and while it was undoubtedly the high point of their rivalry in terms of tension, and provided a few sublime pre- and post-heat photos of the two men looking handsome and serious, the actual wave-riding part of the showdown was a bust. Andy won, Slater got 4th, and looked even more handsome while crying vengeful tears.

The Gary Elkerton/Damien Hardman winner-take-all semi at the 1988 Coke, held at Manly Beach, was better, but not by much. First of all, Manly Beach. Soft, inconsistent, waist-to-shoulder high rights. Thirty-minute heat, best 

 rides scored (for fuck's sake), with "Damien surfing at perhaps 70%" (Derek again) and Gary at around 60%." Jesus himself would have had a difficult time snatching up a decent fourth wave, Elkerton certainly couldn't, and Hardman drove back to Narrabeen with the trophy and the title.

So there it is, people. Lower those expectations, is my advice. But you won't. 

sure won't. I will open a vein and plug the WSL feel directly into my bloodstream. I will bring my laptop to the bathroom. I will ignore my family, and Tweet through bleeding fingers. We got a showdown here. 

WORLD TOUR SHOWDOWN: THE HOPE AND THE HEARTBREAK

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