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THE ESM INTERVIEW WITH JOHN HOLEMAN by Matt Pruett The "Flying Sinus" sits upright. Better known nowadays as John Holeman, his slimly opened eyes flicker back and forth between two images on his computer monitor. The right image is of surf god Cory Lopez, flying from section to section like Hermes to Mount Olympus' Fed-Ex box. The other is of Jeff Noble, a barely sponsored local kid who, though holding potential, is regularly beaten and outshined by better, more experienced peers like Eddie Guilbeau and Sean Tubbs. "The first thing I ask when screening my students is, 'Do you wanna be a better surfer or are you looking to get sponsored?'" Holeman says. "If he says 'sponsored' I tell him I have no interest in coaching him." John draws on a graphics tablet multicolored lines to Cory and Jeff's corresponding appendages while recording voiceover observations. "Look where Cory's head is directed upon landing, already viewing his next target... Now look where your eyes are..." the voice instructs, a blue arrow following Noble's surfboard nose to an inevitable pearling point.
ESM:
I guess you becoming an aerialist wasn't exactly paradoxical,
huh?
JH:
Well, I was born at Andrews Air Force Base, next to the
Pentagon. Then we moved to Satellite Beach in 1965, the
Space Coast [laughs]. I started surfing at five,
but wasn't exposed to international pros until 1984. Matt
Kechele was by far my biggest influence. Even though we
were the same age, he was much more advanced. I'd go to
pro events just to watch him, because he was doing things
I hadn't even seen in magazines.
JH:
I had no skateboard background whatsoever. To this day,
I can't skate to save my life. I just literally studied
how Matt did his aerials and wanted to push it further.
He was rotating his board 180 off the lip and bringing
it back around like a tailside. I thought the whole rotation
could be done in the air. I didn't know what it would
lead to, but the higher I did my aerials, the easier it
was to rotate.
ESM:
What kinds of board dimensions were you riding back then?
JH:
I saw longboards go to single-fins go to twin-fins, so
by the time I was in junior high, I could perform pretty
decent maneuvers. Pete Dooley, one of my team managers
at Natural Art, tried to train me on tri-fins. I rode
'em for eight years and didn't like them. I still don't.
I stuck with twins. My favorite dimensions to bust air
would be a 15-inch tail, maybe a 19 3/4-inch middle--
fairly wide for what people would ride then, and especially
for what people would ride today. But that's just my style.
The waves have very little power in Florida, so instead
of working so hard to get the board to do what I want,
I want the board to just not trip me up.
JH:
I was working my way up the amateur ranks and just decided
in 1984 to give it a shot. It was the peak of the East
Coast pro tour, which traveled from South Florida up to
New York. You couldn't get rich, but you could have a
second job and actually make a decent living as a pro.
So I followed the whole tour and at the end they added
everything up, and I was Rookie of the Year and the East
Coast champion. That was a unique year, too, because they
combined a couple 3-star and 4-star events with the Eastern
tour and I got to meet all the pros. The Hawaiians really
liked the aerial tricks I was performing. And I have to
admit, way back in junior high, Larry Bertlemann was the
first guy I actually saw take his board up over the wave.
They didn't have a name for it back then. They were like,
"He caught air."
ESM:
What were some highlights of the pro life?
JH:
My highlight was pushing the boundaries of aerial
tactics. I can't say I was respected by too many people
because it hadn't been accepted. Style and power dominated.
And I'll be the first to say it--I had no style.
I had no power. Anyone back then will tell you, Bill Hartley
and Jeff Klugel were the epitomes of style and power.
I spent so much time learning aerial tricks that I lagged
greatly behind on other things. But it was my choice to
concentrate on aerials. I'm not ashamed. That's what had
to be sacrificed to push the boundaries.
ESM:
When did you realize competing as a professional wasn't
the way you wanted to go?
JH:
Once I got the ball rolling on my pro career, it ended,
because I didn't have the financial backing or resources
to travel. In 1986, they pulled the plug on the tour and
it was either move to California or stay here and continue
laboring in factories. I went to California for a couple
weeks, surfed all over, and wasn't that impressed. It
was really hyped. By the time I got out there, I was expecting
paradise. What I found was polluted water, crowds everywhere
I went, and the most egotistical attitude I've ever run
into. There were a lot of aggro surfers who rejected me,
and I came from a small town where I knew everyone. So
I stayed behind in Florida, surfed the few contests they'd
have, went back amateur a couple times, bounced around
and just decided to take a break. And I did... I took
a break for many, many years. I started coaching a few
people, not to make a living, just to pass on some advice.
Little did I know it would be the cornerstone of what
I'm building today.
JH:
Not so much redemption, but definitely an unexpected highlight.
There's not a whole lot you can do with fame other than
lay your head down at night and go, "Yeah, that's nice."
It will be a proud moment to one day show my son what
Pops did, but other than that...
ESM:
Not to take a turn to the morbid, but can you elaborate
a bit on the heart condition you were born with?
JH:
I was born with congenital diaphraghmic hernia, which
is just a big fancy word for an extreme hernia. Your diaphragm
closes up at eight months old, and mine never did, so
my intestines and stomach were all pushed up into my chest
cavity and had to be pushed back down. During those first
months, cardiologists think my heart got deformed a bit.
But the main problem I had was congestive heart failure
through a walking pneumonia virus that attached itself
to the inner wall of my heart, which grew to be 2 1/2
times larger than normal. It couldn't pump efficiently
and just got worse and worse. I was diagnosed in February
of '03, and had to have a heart transplant that July.
I was scared to death, but Shann's Hospital is one of
the leading hospitals in the nation. They do two to four
transplants a week--no big deal to them. They actually
just tuned up my pacemaker so I can have a limit of 160
beats a minute instead of 120. I actually feel better
now than when I was 20 [laughs]. But I'm still
limited. I can't surf six to eight hours like I used to.
I surf a couple hours and I'm wiped. I get winded, come
home and take a nap. And if the waves are too big--like
the giant hurricane surf I used to pray for--I can't charge
it anymore. It would be very easy for me to have a stroke
or heart attack, so I have to play it cool. For that hour
or two I spend in the surf, I try and push it as far as
I can. But once I get tingling fingers, I have to back
off.
JH:
When you have any kind of organ transplant, you're very
limited to what you can do physically, and you can't be
around chemicals. You can't even use ammonia to clean
your house. Well, being a faux artist and housepainter,
I couldn't smell fumes, and skin absorbs paint chemicals,
so I had to retire. But you know what? It was a blessing
in disguise. I didn't want to paint houses in my forties.
It's hard enough when you're 20. So I got a rare opportunity
to start coaching surfing, which is what I've always wanted
to do in the first place. And with today's technology--the
cameras, software, computers--I can push coaching to another
level in the United States.
ESM:
What can you say about the community response on your
behalf, specifically the hugely successful "Hearts For
Holeman" fundraisers?
JH:
It made me feel like people cared. People I didn't even
know on a personal level were donating time, finances
and efforts to organize things. It showed me that whether
you're a longboarder, shortboarder, kneeboarder, 50 years
old or 20, we need to quit putting these barriers up when
we paddle out. We tend to see someone on a longboard or
a bodyboard and automatically get on the defensive. Hearts
For Holeman opened my eyes up to be more acceptable of
the differences we have in the surf industry. It made
me thankful for all those who cared enough to support
me. I can't put into words how grateful I am for that.
It kinda fueled my fire to do this whole PSI thing.
ESM:
Give us a little background on Progressive Surfing Instruction.
How did you come to learn about it?
JH:
I did a Google search on "surf coaches" and I got page
after page on Australians and New Zealanders, who've been
clearly dominating international amateur and professional
competition for years. I clicked on a couple and found
out they're using motion analysis software to coach their
surfers. It's a fancy term for being able to draw directly
on the footage and do voiceovers. It's been around in
golf, tennis and mainstream sports for a while. A surfer
can see exactly what they're doing right and wrong and
I can instruct them how to adjust and fix it. Other countries
are catching on faster. Even the UK and Brazil are using
it now. If it's working for them, why not us? I think
one of the biggest problems we have in America is a lot
of our surfers are too lazy to train. I've yet to see
but a handful, especially here in Florida, who want to
dedicate the time and effort to surfing better. When I
go to little league games, youth basketball, whatever,
those kids are being trained by their coaches. And a lot
of people don't realize this, but even Kelly Slater has
a coach! If our top pros have coaches, why not our amateurs?
Very few young people want to dedicate themselves to PSI,
because they know I'm not just down there videotaping
so they can see themselves surfing. They have to make
changes in their surfing. They have to make sacrifices.
And when you're changing somebody's style and technique
for the better, they're gonna go down before they go back
up. And it's hard to convince the parents sometimes. I
get chewed out like you wouldn't believe. Sometimes they'll
think I'm ruining their kid's surfing. But the surfers
who stick with it thank me because in the long run they
come out with more power, more maneuvers and a better,
more professional style than before.
JH:
I don't wanna put down parents who're putting forth
effort into their sons or daughters' surfing. But how
much personal experience do they have? Are any of these
soccer moms ex-professional surfers? Have they spent years
studying other surfers' styles or maneuvers? I had this
very good up-and-coming amateur at an NSSA contest one
weekend. After a heat in which I thought he performed
quite well, his mom came up and grabbed me by the arm,
pulled me in this circle of 12 people who follow her everywhere
she goes, and just chewed me a hole: "You changed his
surfing!" "You're clouding his head!" I didn't say two
words to her until I got home. And I ended up firing them.
ESM: Come to think of it, I did have a wrestling coach in 7th grade who never even wrestled before. Boy, did we suck that year. JH:
You can lead a horse to water, but you can't force him
to drink. If you don't dissect something, absorb it and
try to apply it, you won't go anywhere. I'll get a handful
of surfers who'll sign up for PSI but very few will stay
because it takes a lot of hard work. They'll realize it
in the long run, but by then they'll be 25 and it will
be too late. I see kids 16, 17 years old with $40,000
contracts who tell me, "No thanks. Don't need it... doing
just fine." But when their glamour is over in four years,
what are they gonna do? They're not going to college.
Real coaching is a new business on this coast, so there's
this huge wall in front of me to climb, but I'm not giving
up. I've worked with Kris Wiernicki for almost three years
now and his surfing has gone from "so-so, has-it-in-him"
to "through-the-roof!" Now he draws his line in order
to get to the next maneuver more vertically. Surfing a
wave is like chess--you have to think three, four moves
ahead for the move you're gonna do now. I started showing
Kris that from a young age, even before I started PSI.
Those who stick with me and take the lumps will be better
for it in the long run. (Editor's note: Kris just won
his fourth NSSA East Coast title this year.)
JH:
Fantasy? Well, if they get this Orlando wavepark perfected--one
that generates a wave that is ceiling-high and legitimate,
surfing will eventually become a mainstream sport. You'll
have it in Wyoming and Kansas and you'll start seeing
Nike, Mercedes and other multibillion dollar companies
putting money into it. So if that happens, I'd like to
see at least one PSI coach for every pool put up in the
United States. I'd personally train every one. But realistically,
in the long run, I'd just like to have a steady stream
of a strong, dedicated group of pro and amateur surfers--just
20 or 30 athletes are all I need for my little life
[laughs].
ESM:
What do you think about surfing going more in the direction
of varying rotations, different grabs, flips, shuvits
and varials, etc. and your contribution to its acceptance?
JH:
I have no idea what influence my aerials had on the rest
of the world because I'm so secluded. I mean, Brevard
County, where's that? Mez and Dugan would submit hundreds
of pictures of me and Kech, and the mags would barely
print anything. Then when the '90s hit, it was like "Fletcher,
Fletcher, Fletcher..." You couldn't tell the California
guys anything. There was a time when I'd go to the Expo
and glare at Fletcher, but he had nothing to do with it.
It was the magazine's hype. But I watch the Fuel channel
a lot and can quote Chris Mauro: "Christian Fletcher...
the godfather of aerials." Excuse me!?! Christian pushed
it to a higher level, how big you could go without breaking
your legs or your board. But Larry Bertlemann was doing
aerials in the '70s before Fletcher even knew what a surfboard
was! Thank goodness for Slater and the Hobgood and Lopez
brothers. They pushed things to another level of acceptance
for East Coasters.
ESM:
And thank goodness for the guy who showed them how to
spin their airs...
JH:
Well [blushes], it's been a very strange ride from
Day One--amateur to pro to underground to the heart transplant
and back into the surf industry--a real rollercoaster.
But look at other people's lives. They all experience
full circles, too. I'm very grateful for what surfing's
given me and how many wonderful people in this industry
have had my back. And this, PSI, is how I'm looking to
return that compliment. I don't wanna scare people, but
heart transplant patients have very limited time. I knew
that going into it. I'm not gonna be around forever and
I don't know how many people are willing to step up and
do PSI--coaching it or training under it. I hope to pass
the torch and see it continue, though. Our athletes deserve
it. It's time.
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