The Good, the Rad, the Ugly : Bizarre Conduct Overshadows Rebellious Surfer’s Talent : RICHIE COLLINS : Q

Just when you thought that any pro surfer belonged on the list of the world’s luckiest men--right up there with Ringo Starr and Ed McMahon--along comes Richie Collins.

The Newport Beach surfer, ranked No. 13 on the Assn. of Surfing Professionals tour, defends his Op Pro championship this week at Huntington Beach.

Collins travels to the most exotic beaches in the world, won $43,000 in contest prize money last year and makes more than six figures a year just for wearing a certain wet suit and endorsing a particular brand of clothing.

Collins is only 21, but he didn’t exactly ride one long, smooth wave to the crest of the sport. This is a young man both driven and torn by his own violent instincts, a stormy relationship with his father and his “born-again” beliefs. He’s afraid of heights and closes his eyes during takeoffs on big waves. He’s also claustrophobic, which makes plane trips and wipeouts in big surf personal nightmares.

His talent for riding waves--he is credited with having invented the floater, a now-popular maneuver in which the surfer rides on top of the tubed section of the wave--has often been overshadowed by his out-of-the-water antics and temper tantrums.

After a minor traffic mishap in 1988, he smashed his own car windshield with a fierce head butt, sending witnesses scurrying. And he’s so widely disliked by his peers that when he was jumped and seriously beaten (his wounds required 73 facial stitches) after a dispute in the water, a lot of surfers figured Collins got what he deserved.

Over the past few years, Collins has run an electric shaver over his head in much the same way he carves up the face of a wave, and the results have been some truly bizarre hairstyles, all designed to “make me look ugly.” Now, his coiffure is more Mr. Rogers than Mr. T. and he is somewhat comforted by his religion.

But Collins is still tormented by the demons of his past. Maybe most distressing to all who surf is his confession that he gets no pleasure from riding waves.

Recently, Collins sat down with Times reporter John Weyler in the office of Waves Tools, the Costa Mesa surfboard shop pioneered by his father, Lance, and discussed his past mistakes, his hopes for the future, his dreams and his fears.

Q. You started surfing professionally at age 14, considerably younger than most. How did you reach that decision and now, in retrospect, do you think it was the right move?

A. When I was younger, I was surfing (amateur) contests and winning probably about 80% of them. The other 20%, I’d just jell out and lose or I wouldn’t show up for the final. I wanted to surf (National Scholastic Surfing Assn.) boys’ division when I was 12, but I was too young, they wouldn’t let me. So I shined it and quit surfing for about a year. I was heavily into windsurfing, so I just windsurfed.

When I turned 14, I turned pro and surfed a contest and finished 16th. Then I surfed anything professional I could find. I didn’t do that great but I tried. I just got more and more into it. Everyone told me it was a bad decision, but by the time I was 17 and rated second in the (Professional Surfing Assn. of America) and had a string of seven finals in a row, everybody was saying maybe that it wasn’t a bad decision.

Then I turned 18, went to Japan just for the heck of it and took 17th in my first serious (Assn. of Surfing Professionals) event. Then I said, “Man, I’m going to go on the ASP.”

I have no regrets. I’d do the same thing again, but I’d do it a little different. I wouldn’t have been so stupid on my money. I would’ve saved more.

Q. What kind of influence has your father had on your life and your career as a surfer?

A. He’s been a very hard influence. When I was a little kid, he didn’t care what I did. He didn’t want to have nothing to do with me. When I’d surf all the time, his friends would say, “Hey, the kid wants to surf. Why don’t you take him surfing?” And he’d say, “Shine the little punk.”

When I was like 7 years old, I was riding an Animal Tracks board and my dad owned Wave Tools. Everyone was like, “Make the kid a board. He’s out their ripping on a six-foot, egg-shaped single fin.” And he’d say, “Aw, shine the punk.” So I finally surfed with him once and he saw how good I was and decided to make me a board. So he made me a five-foot twin fin when I was 8 and I was really stoked on it.

I started competing at 9 years old. He was taking me to all the contests and sometimes even when I’d do good, he just wrote me off in my face, like, “Just get your stuff, man, and let’s get out of here. You’re such a kook, man, you can’t even surf.” Here I’m this little 9-, 10-year-old kid and I just won this contest, and he’s telling me this stuff.

He kept laying that into me all my life.

Q. You sound pretty bitter. How would you describe your relationship with him now?

A. When I quit surfing for that year and started to sail with him a lot, he was stoked about that. Then when I came back to surfing competition, I went to a higher level. But he really wasn’t behind me. He was behind everyone else. He knocked me all the time, calling me a kook. I always thought, “I’ll show that guy, I’ll be the best.”

In a way, I think he was jealous because I was getting more hype than he ever did. But in a way, I think he was stoked, but didn’t know how to show it, so he was mad all the time. He was a good dad, but always knocked me on everything I did. . . . He made me want to be perfect in everything I wanted to do.

Q. You’ve been quoted as saying surfing isn’t fun anymore, that you’re only concerned with winning a world championship. Is this a case of burnout?

A. When you start surfing when you’re about 3 years old and get really into it when you’re 6 and start competing when you’re 8 or 9 and turn pro at 14, you say, “Wait a minute, this is my business.” Then there’s the other end of it, not even surfing-wise, but making surfboards, designing clothes and stuff. Now, I’m on the tour and I’m trying to watch this (business) over here too. It can be a burnout.

You come home from an event and your sponsors want you to go somewhere else and you just go, “Wait, man. I have to win contests and I can’t just keep traveling when I’m totally burned out on traveling.”

It’s a 360-day, year-round job.

Q. So, do you find yourself thinking more about life after pro surfing? And how much longer do you plan on competing?

A. Oh, yeah. But I may do ASP contests until I’m 40. If I’m still up that high and I feel like competing and hassling all the young kids, I’ll do it.

Q. The fits of temper that characterized your youth seem to be on the wane. Do you think you’ve matured in the past couple of years?

A. My mouth was totally out of control back then, but I’ve settled down a bit now because I’ve proved my point that I could do things. I’m 21. I did a lot in three years and I’ve got a lot to show for it.

I’ve calmed down a lot. My dreams have calmed down some, too, but I still dream about wars and blowing people away, but I try to stay away from it. I don’t watch as many violent movies.

I’m a warrior for God now.

Q. You’ve said that channeling the energy of your aggravated, stressed-out personality into your surfing is a key to your success. Has your less-intense approach to life hurt your surfing?

A. I think it has slowed me down a little and lightened me up. But I don’t care. I think making money surfing isn’t as important as people’s feelings now. (There was a time when) I didn’t care about people’s feelings. People write in to magazines and say I’m a real jerk, but they don’t really know me.

You see, Jesus wants you to be really humble, but once you’re out on the playing field, your job is to go out there and kick some butt for the Lord. I’ll play by the rules, but I’m gonna be strong and eager to win for God. My job is to represent the Lord in the water.

God sets a plan for you, but I didn’t exactly take a straight line to get here. If I had followed His plan from the day I was 1 year old, Richie Collins would be a different person. I’d be where I am right now, but I’d have gotten here a better way, a brighter way and a more happy way.

Q. So, has your surfing become any more conservative in the process?

A. Yeah. When I was 17, 18 years old, I’d hit the lip on anything, man. I didn’t care. I can’t do a floater on a six-foot wave anymore, I’m too scared. I used to float The Point (18th Street in Newport) when it was eight feet. Now, I don’t do floaters (except in contests). I’ve torn ligaments in my knee, hurt my back, had my fin in my leg, no way. The only way I’ll hit the lip that hard is in a heat. I’ll save it for a heat, ‘cause that’s my job.

I’m only 21, but I’ve been doing it for so long, my bones are just getting wailed. When I was 18, I was just radical, I just loved going off. Now, man, I’m kinda mellower, I’m watching the old guys, saying, “Yeah, I gotta be like them. I gotta use more wisdom.”

Q. You room by yourself on the tour, you don’t hang out with the other ASP pros and you used to shave your head with the intent of looking ugly. Do you feel you have to alienate yourself to be successful?

A. Yeah, I do. I watch a lot of talent go out there and they just hang out with the boys and party and stay up late and I can see it in their surfing. When they don’t do it for a week, they surf better.

Every time you get drunk, it kills your brain cells. You screw yourself up and you don’t deserve to win. If they don’t go too berserk and give us a bad reputation, it’s fine for them. But they can have it. I’ve never taken any drugs. It’s not me.

God’s blessed me with what I’ve wanted and I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve been going with a girl for about a year now and I’m hoping to get married next year. I don’t need to shave my head anymore.

You’ve got all these pretty boys on the tour and all these girls going, “Oooh, he’s so cute,” and then they’d see me and go, “Ugh, look at that guy.” And that was fine. It was like, “Get away from me, you wenches. I don’t need you to flaunt your bodies in front of me. I don’t need the devil to blind my eyes.”

Q. There doesn’t seem to be much disagreement about your talent, but there is some division about whether you are sincere or simply cultivating a bizarre image to intimidate opponents. Which is it?

A. It worked, didn’t it? (Laughs.) I’m not stupid. I can’t write papers, but you don’t have to go to school to make money. I quit when I was 16. I’m a pro surfer. I made more than 10 grand this month. What do I need a diploma for? I’ve got this business. I could retire right now.

I shaved my head to be different than everyone else. Everyone else on the tour seemed like they were clones. I took a chunk of surfing from here and took it over to here. It’s a totally different image. A lot of people won’t admit it, but I did it and I’m proud of it.

Now, maybe, some kids shave their heads and they’re gonna see me in O’Neill (wet suits) and they’re gonna go out and buy O’Neill suits.

Q. Last year, you defeated top-ranked Tom Curren to win the Op Pro. You later were quoted as saying Curren “surfs old.” What did you mean by that?

A. I never said Curren surfed old. That was all bogus. I said Curren’s style is old because everybody copies him and I was sick of watching that Curren style. The way he surfs is unreal, but the (magazine writer) turned it around and that really (angered Collins). I had to confront Curren and say, “Hey, dude, I didn’t say that.” He said, “Don’t worry about it, man, I know how they twist things around.”

I just try to do some of what everybody does, do it all, more of it, but with more fullness, more roundness. That’s my style.

Q. Since every wave is different, judging surfing is, by its nature, a subjective endeavor. Do you have problems with the way ASP meets are judged?

A. If (surfing was judged) like ice skating, I’d win a lot more. I video other people and I video myself, and I mean they’re surfing good, but I’m doing about five moves for every two they’re doing. If this was ice skating and they were judging who did the better maneuvers and who did more of them with more flow, man, I’d win.

I’ll start off by throwing a quick floater, then come down and do a snap (turn) and then hit the lip and the other guy will just do the snap and hit the lip and I’ll get judged lower. How’s that figure?

Q. Do you ever confront the judges with these kinds of questions?

A. All the time, man. They just go, “Well, this guy was surfing faster and with more power.” What’s the big deal of surfing faster if you’re not doing complete turns? I can go straight down the line and throw a bunch of spray, it’s easy. I can do it switch-foot. But let’s see this other idiot do a full, roundhouse cutback, come back and hit the lip and come back and hit the lip again, bam .

What’s surfing about? They say there’s not enough speed in my maneuvers. What do they want me to do, put jets on the back of my board?

It’s just like with my (surfboard) shaping. I get no respect at all from most surfers. They say, “Your boards only work for you.” But if they don’t work, how did I get this far riding them? And I’ve got these little kids coming up who are surfing my boards and they’re gonna kick these guys’ butts some day, just blow them out of the water.

Wave Tools is backed now by, well, if it wasn’t for God we wouldn’t be nowhere, but God put me in the position where I am now, you know, winning the Op and getting all this publicity all over the world. Otherwise, this board company wouldn’t be around now.

So if this business is still in business because of me, I want it to be part of me and do what I want it to do. Or I’ll just go, “Hey, I don’t want anything to do with the business.” And I’ll let the thing go out of business if they don’t listen to me.

Q. You admit to being afraid of heights but your father can recall a time at Black Sand Beach in Hawaii when you were only 13 and taking off on 12-foot waves that frightened him. What drives you to keep surfing despite your fears?

A. Every time I take off on a big wave, I close my eyes. I just start calling myself names. I say, “Go, you big (sissy). This is it. You’ve got to go.” If I looked down, I’d freak and back out. So I close my eyes until I stand up and then it’s too late (to back out).

I do it because I have so much anger inside me. And I want to make all those people who said I couldn’t do it eat their words.