What About Gino?

I take Viagra. Well, not yet, but I’m sure I will someday. That limp nightmare haunts me. The whole aging process freaks me out entirely. I’m 25 and already feel over the hill. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the new 40. Everyday I get a little closer to 30. I’ll pause for a second for those of you in your 30s, 40s, or 50s to let out a dismissive sigh. Say what you will, but everyone can empathize – as we get older our windows of opportunity close. No longer can I go out on a Thursday night, drink until the bars close and then go to work the next morning. Staying in shape has evolved into an uphill battle to outrun the onset of bitch tits and a beer gut. And, sadly, I’ve had to say goodbye to the days of dating 18 and 19 year olds. I feel the window of my youth creeping shut.  I suspect for those readers older than me, the feeling is more like a window slamming shut.
Twenty-five is the age at which most of our youthful windows close, when potential runs dry and life becomes more honest. For most of us that time in our early 20s defines who we are as we take our first steps into adulthood. For professional athletes, who makeup maybe 1% of the top 1% of the sporting demographic, this window of opportunity is abbreviated. In sport – more appropriately, in the business of sport – value and worth are measured against one standard: the "It" factor.  And that slim five-year hiccup of time in an athlete’s career is when potential must transition into production, where the athlete proves he has "It" or he doesn’t.
Remember Gino Torretta, the guy who won Marshall Faulk’s Heisman Trophy? He works for Prudential Services now and calls college football games for ESPN. Didn’t have it.
When the Padres made Matt Bush the number one overall pick in the 2004 draft, they thought he had it, or at least they hoped he did. Turned out they were wrong. In close to three years since, Bush has been disappointing at best in his minor league campaigns, while the two other players the Padres brass considered drafting—Jared Weaver and Stephen Drew—have been impressive in their major league debuts with other clubs. On February 8 of this year Bush will be 21. And though Bush still has a chance to right his career, the business side of professional sports has never been patient. In fact, sometimes, it's the people who sign the checks who end up pushing you out that window.    
Surfing is not unlike mainstream sports in the way it glamorizes its athletes. Nor is there a noticeable difference in the window of opportunity the pro surfer has to make good on his potential. Though typically the most trying and the most critical period in a surfer’s career, that five-year window is often forgotten. We forget because very few surfers actually make it. Everyone’s always looking for the next BIG star, the Andrew Dohenys and the Jon Jon Florences of the world. The prospect of a young prodigy is a marketer’s wet dream. So they throw money behind young talent. It’s like when you’re in kindergarten, you invite your whole class to your birthday party. But when you turn 25, your birthday party is you and three friends throwing back a few beers at the bar down the street from your apartment. Ever wonder why so many ex-pros end up in the industry? Their window of opportunity closes, and like the rest of us they’re forced, at some point, to move on. Working in the surf industry is just a natural transition. Athlete or not, the windows in our lives inevitably close and new ones open in their place.
And we are all bound to have our fair share of mistakes along the way as we
transition onto new avenues in our lives.  As for me, as long as my medicine cabinet is free from prescription bottles filled with the little blue pill, I'm alright with the whole thing.

Evan Fontaine
Editor-in-Chief