I’m a grom and I’m angry. I’m sick and tired of the older boys dropping in on me and taking all my waves. I’m fed up with the titty twisters, dead legs, monkey bumps, and Mexican Hat Dances. I don’t like picking licorice out of my hair after being dumped headfirst into the trash can. Why do the older guys pat me down for lunch money every time I go to the beach to check the surf? I can feel my blood boil when they talk trash on my older sister and my mom. Maybe I should take some Ju Jitsu classes and learn how to wrap these bullies into a pretzel.
Too bad I’m just a little fella, and all I have are these wiry arms and chicken legs. I’m growing though, so they had better just watch out. Man, sometimes it’s tough being a grom.I’m so angry. Good thing I can go out surfing and get rid of some of this pent up aggression. All I have to do is paddle out and unleash my fury on some innocent, unsuspecting lip. It’s such a relief when I feel my fins blow out the back of the wave, my body tapping my minds inner anger to execute extreme acrobatics. As I pump down the line of this well-groomed launch ramp, all the noogies, wet willies, and “your momma” jokes act as fuel for my lethal lift- off.
When I stick my angst aided aerial, my angry quickly subsides. The feeling of stoke after pulling a big move is enough to cure any case of bad mojo. A couple tubes later I’m ready to come in a happy camper, completely calmed from a successful session of liquid therapy. Like the icing on top, it turns out all the older guys were watching my session from the beach. What better way to get my revenge than to put them to shame on my own terms. The cherry on tops comes when I walk by the crew of ruffians and hear one of the boys address me. “Sick wave little guy. Not bad for a grom”. I smile and walk by, and for once I don’t feel so angry.