Free Cut Back by Todd Strasser Page A

facing out toward the surfboards scattered around the backyard. Kai sketched for a moment more, then closed his notebook and went down the steps.
    â€œMind if I join you?” he asked, pulling a folding chair next to Curtis in the dark.
    â€œOnly if your homework’s done and you’re ready for school tomorrow,” Curtis joked.
    â€œI think I’m okay on that score,” Kai said.
    They both looked up at the night sky. The stars twinkled between ghostly drifting cotton ball clouds.
    â€œThey’re daring me to enter a competition in Fairport in a couple of weeks,” Kai said.
    â€œWhat do you care?” Curtis asked.
    â€œYou used to compete,” Kai said.
    â€œTrue. I used to think it was the only thing that counted. The only standard by which a surfer could be judged.”
    â€œWhat changed?” Kai asked. “You didn’t just wake up one day and decide it was all garbage.”
    â€œThat’s true too,” Curtis said. “It was a gradual enlightenment. You know, grom, judging surf competitions is a pretty subjective business. You’re sitting on the beach watching guys who might be a quarter of a mile away perform tricks and throw spray. And all in all it’s a fairly small close-knit world. Judges and competitors know each other pretty well. Some like each other, some don’t. Sometimes the judges are even competitors themselves. So it can be pretty hard to say just who the best surfer is sometimes.”
    â€œYou didn’t like it because it was subjective?” Kai asked.
    â€œWell, let me put it this way,” Curtis said. “Suppose you got two surfers. One of ’em is a real nice guy. Friends with everyone. The other one’s kind of abrasive, gets on people’s nerves. Now these two boys go out and compete and it’s a dead heat. From the beach you really can’t tell who was better. Now which one do you think is gonna get more points?”
    â€œYou’re saying some judges might score one guy higher because they like him more?”
    â€œDamn straight. And I’m not even sure they’d know they were doin’ it. If they like one of those boys, it just may appear to them thathe’s doing a better job. On the other hand, if they don’t like one of those boys, they may judge him with a more critical eye. It’s just human nature, is all. Although there are other, darker aspects as well.”
    â€œSuch as?” Kai asked.
    â€œWell, let me caution you that I’m not saying that I know for a fact that anything like this has ever occurred,” Curtis said. “But let’s just suppose for a moment that you’ve got this young phenom with a half-million-dollar sponsorship deal with some huge company. Now it is definitely in that company’s interest to make sure their boy wins a lot of competitions and gets his name and picture in a lot of surfing magazines.”
    â€œSo you think the company might bribe some of the judges?” Kai guessed.
    â€œWell, I think that’s putting it a bit too harshly,” Curtis said. “Could be a nice all-expense paid trip to Tahiti, or maybe just a free lifetime supply of widgets, or whatever that company happens to make. Like I said, I don’t actually know of any cases where that happened, but it does seem like a possibility. And that’s just part of the answer to the question of why I think I lost interest in thecompetitive side of surfing. Another part is that big box of trophies under my kitchen counter. See, as a competitive surfer, for a while you’re hot and then you’re not. New guys come along and they’re younger and cooler and crazier and the next thing you know you’re getting less ink in the magazines. Now I guess for some people that’s enough. To know that they were once on top of that heap. And for other guys like Buzzy, if they can’t be on the top of one heap anymore, they just find another