By Phil Jarratt
How great to see a professional surfing event back on home turf for the first time since Joel Tudor took out the Noosa Longboard Open back in February. And even greater to see Noosa’s Cooper Davies take out the Sunshine Coast Pro at Coolum with a convincing set of performances.
I know, I know, I haven’t been able to summon up much enthusiasm for the WSL series of invitationals currently being held around Australia to get the pros moving again, but Surfing Australia’s Australian Open series seems to be a different kettle of fish, with young hopefuls out there trading spray with old troopers, everyone just grateful to doing something beyond a club comp.
Life of Brine spy Michael Grace tells me that Cooper’s win in solid but wind-affected conditions capped a brilliant weekend for Noosa Boardriders Club’s rising stars, with Noah Stocca also claiming a third in the blustery final. Michael says Cooper, just turned 20, nailed the tight final over Alex Headland’s Alister Reginato with an impressive 8.5, adding the title, not to mention a thousand bucks, to his impressive collection, which includes the Australian Men’s Open title in 2018 and a runner-up finish earlier this year.
Cooper opened the final with a 6.5, then scored another three throwaway waves and seemed to be out of luck. But in the dying minutes of the heat he managed to score an excellent 8.5 to take the victory. “That was really exciting, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said on the beach. “It’s been a long break since we’ve had competitions, so it feels awesome to get the rashie back on and get a win.”
Sophie McCulloch from Alex Headland – currently number 12 on the WQS – took out the women’s division from former WSL star Dimity Stoyle (Maroochydore) in spectacular fashion, racking up a near-perfect 9.83 early in the final, then locking the gate for other competitors with a 7.5 backup.
The excited winner said: “I knew the judges were rewarding bigger, more committed turns so I really laid into that first one and managed to get the excellent score to open the heat – I’m stoked.”
Max slips away
It was a sad week in several ways, with that exuberantly colourful cricketing legend Dean Jones dying of a heart attack way before time in India, as bowling great Brett Lee tried to revive him. But what rocked me – literally – was the death of another legend who, many would say, had well and truly used up his nine lives.
Max Merritt, who was 79 when he passed away in a Los Angeles hospital last week, found himself in the emergency room back in 2007 when he suffered kidney failure. He was diagnosed with a rare auto-immune disorder called Goodpasture’s syndrome that affects both kidney and lungs. It wasn’t a great outcome, but people had been writing Max off for 40 years, since the van he was driving between country Victoria gigs with his band the Meteors had a head-on collision near Morwell, leaving drummer Stewie Speers with crushed legs from which he never recovered, and Max clinging to life with one eye gone and serious head injuries. It was a year before the scarred band could play again.
Max Merritt and the Meteors had their beginnings in Christchurch, New Zealand in the late 1950s, backing Kiwi singing sensation Dinah Lee, but by the mid-1960s they had relocated to Australia and were much in demand, playing support to the touring Rolling Stones and Searchers with gravel-voiced Max out front. I was still at school when I first heard them live at a club in Wollongong, NSW, and Max blew me away with his showstopper rendition of Otis Redding’s “Try A Little Tenderness”.
In 1973 I was living and working in London when the Meteors were resident band at the Windsor Castle on the Harrow Road. I never missed a gig, and got to know Max and Stewie Speers a bit, Max with his funny eye and scarred face, Stewie getting behind the skins with the aid of two walking sticks. They were a pub rock sensation and the Poms loved them.
A dozen years later Max’s anthem “Slipping Away” had made the charts in the US and he’d relocated to LA when I drove out to his humble bungalow in Encino in the San Fernando Valley to interview him. After our chat and a few drinks, he proudly took me out to his backyard shed to show me his hobby, carving beautiful wooden toys. He gave me a little owl for my youngest daughter.
Max had as many comebacks as he had lives, even playing Byron Blues and Roots and the Gympie Muster in the early years of this century. And he never lost his incredible timing, his soulfulness or his humility.
And now he’s slipped away, and it’s breakin’ me in two.
