Carroll Might Return to Competitive Waters--on a Longboard

Corky Carroll is learning how to ride the nose again . . . which is akin to saying Sam Snead is reacquainting himself with the bunker shot or Jean-Claude Killy is trying to remember how to make a sharp turn on skis.

Carroll, a five-time U.S. surfing champion, quit competitive surfing in a fit of disgust after the 1972 world championships. He was only 24. Now, more than two decades later, he’s contemplating a comeback as a professional longboarder.

It’s not as if Carroll has been living in Kansas City or something. He has lived in either San Clemente or Huntington Beach for most of the last 20 years and he has been washing saltwater out of his hair more mornings than not.

But the man who helped popularize the short surfboard and revolutionize the sport has just bought his first longboard (nine feet or over) since before Richard Nixon converted the San Clemente estate above Carroll’s favorite surf spot to the Western White House.

“I ride a 7-8 most of the time and that’s a lot different than a nine-footer,” he said. “It’s going to take some getting used to, but I’m looking forward to seeing if I can get on the nose again.”

Of course, there was a time nobody did it better than Carroll. By the late ‘60s, Carroll was earning about $50,000 a year in winnings and clothing and surfboard endorsements. Fifty grand went a long way back then and Carroll was riding the crest of surfing’s popularity. He was on the Johnny Carson show. And, as the U.S. champion, he received permission to surf at Cotton’s Point when the Nixons were in residence.

“I was the U.S. champion, and that’s where I trained,” he said, a flash of white teeth cracking his tanned face. “There were armed Secret Service guys on the beach, patrol boats and helicopters buzzing around. All to make sure nobody else tried to surf my break.”

But the glory days of surfing were ending. By the 1972 world championships, life on the fast wave was beginning to slog down. Prize money was shrinking. Endorsements were drying up. And the surf in San Diego for the finals was enough to make anyone want to put his board up in the garage rafters.

“We had been surfing at Oceanside in the early heats, and it was decent,” Carroll said. “But they moved the finals to Ocean Beach and it was less than one foot. It was so small, guys were catching these things like 15 feet from the beach and trying to jump up and do something as the wave hit the beach.

“I was sitting a little farther out, waiting for one of the actual little waves that were coming through every now and then. One didn’t come through. I wound up not riding a wave in my semifinal heat. I said to myself, ‘If it’s gotten to this, I’m out of here.’ ”

Despite the premature retirement, Carroll had a relatively long career as a professional surfer. He grew up riding waves near his parents’ home in Surfside and, when he was just a sophomore at Huntington Beach High in 1963, he won the Juniors title during the U.S. championships, the forerunner of next week’s Op Pro at Huntington Beach Pier.

“I won a lot of times there, but I think that’s my fondest memory of the Huntington contest,” he said. “I was just 14 and that was a pretty big deal for me. After that, I got my first free board and that’s when I began to believe that I could parlay surfing into a career.

“There were a lot of surf stars back then, but no one was making a living at it except the guys who had surfboard shops. But I was the first to get a major clothing sponsorship, with Jantzen swimwear, and the first to make his whole living off it.

“I was making more than anyone else I knew and I was doing it surfing. And I thought it was going to last forever.”

Carroll took a financial tumble and he went down hard. He worked as a dishwasher, a waiter, a ski boot technician, a musician and sold balloons at the Orange County Fair. But he never strayed too far from the ocean, where he found solace and, 10 years later, another drop into surfing’s easy life.

“It was the winter of ‘82, and I was staying at a friend’s house right by Pipeline (on Oahu’s north shore),” Carroll said. “I had just gotten out of the water and I was sitting on the deck, drinking a Miller Lite. I swear this is true. The phone rings and it’s this lady from an ad agency in New York. She says they want me to do a Miller Lite commercial. For the first 10 minutes, I was sure it was joke. You know, a neighbor who could see me sitting out there or something. But she finally convinced me it was real and asked me to come to New York and audition.

“I said, ‘I’d love to . . . as soon as the swell drops.’ ”

Two weeks later, the waves were gone and so was Carroll, on his way to New York.

Carroll’s 11-year, 11-commercial gig with Miller ended last year. He made more money than he ever did in surfing and also found that his name was worth something again. He entered into a licensing agreement to use his name on surfboards and a line of beachwear.

“I was going surfing every single day and getting paid for it,” he said. “It was going great, but then the clothing company had problems and went under. And I thought it was going to last forever.”

It didn’t . . . again. But Carroll has found a bright side. His contract as part of the Miller Lite All-Star team required that he be retired from his sport.

Now, he can compete again.

Maybe he won’t wow the crowds as he once did, but Carroll won’t be fooling around. He takes his sports seriously.

Carroll moved to Sun Valley, Ida., to ski in the winter of 1972. He stayed through the summer and became fascinated with tennis. Soon, a cross-court backhand winner was as exhilarating as Sunset Beach at 15 feet.

“I got very serious,” he said. “I joined a club, took a ton of lessons, went to clinics and tennis colleges and started playing in tournaments.

“A couple of years later when I was back home, the sports director at the Dana Point Resort asked me to teach there. Then I got certified by the U.S. Professional Tennis Assn. and pretty soon I was teaching tennis full time.”

Carroll is currently director of tennis for Community Recreational Management Services, a company that manages seven Orange County tennis facilities. The title means Carroll hires and trains a staff of about 12 instructors, but the salary is barely enough to “make my car payment.” Carroll, who also has a 25-year-old son from a previous marriage, supports his wife, Pam, and their 1-year-old daughter, Kasey, by giving lessons.

“I love teaching tennis, I truly love it,” he says. “I surf in the mornings and teach tennis in the afternoon. It’s fun. But it’s a tough way to earn a living. In the summer, you can teach lessons as long as you can stand up. But in the winter it can get pretty slow. And if it rains for a week, you don’t make any money for a week.

“It’s definitely a low-income existence. It’s funny, I run into people who think I must be rich and retired, but it’s not true. I’m living in the house that I bought for my mom 25 years ago. It’s paid off, but you ought to see my credit cards.”

Corky Carroll can smile when he says that, though. After all, he has waited out lulls before. And there has always been a wave of good fortune just over the horizon.