Lessons with Andy King

Andy King

Lessons with Andy King 

I spent 19 days in hospital after the fight. I got stripped of everything that I was. I lost my pride; I lost my dignity. I had to pass my tray for shitting in to the nurses, I lost everything. It gave me a lot of time to think. I learnt I had a lot of fear and aggression.

Why the fear and aggression? I'll tell ya, I figured it out, how shit happened. When I was growing up, my dad was a chronic alcoholic. When I was 12, he lost his job out at the oil refinery. And when he lost that he lost his identity. He couldn't get a job and he started bottling home brew, from when I was 12 to 17, he was drunk and threatening. Those five years shaped who I was as a person. I slept for five years at home with weights behind my door and my windows locked because he used to threaten me when he came home pissed. I lived in fear for five years. And that fear carried on and created who I was. I was an aggressive person. If anyone ever challenged me or said anything, I thought it was an attack. The accident stripped me of everything and I got a chance to reflect on that. It put everything in perspective. All I cared about was my health and the happiness of my friends and the people around me. actually had a conversation with my dad three weeks ago. It was the first time we weren't swearing at each other or fighting. To do that, it was the biggest weight off my shoulders. The hatred and fear was squashed. Seeing him and not having any aggression, having compassion towards the guy, realising all the mistakes he'd made, I had pity on him.

Your identity is being the best you can be on any day in any situation. After this happened, I've had no fear of financial stresses or worries about where I'm going to go. Everyone's been asking me - because pro surfing is off the cards - what are you going to do? What's your future? All these questions are pressures from other people. Me, I'm happy to wake up and be walking again.

When I was competing, I had all these dreams and hopes and I was never happy with that day. I was always looking ahead: what I could do to better myself, what I could do to reach my goals? I didn't live in the day. I'd never enjoy a moment because I thought I needed to be getting points or chasing coverage. I was worried about so much trivial bullshit I was never actually enjoying the moment I was in. Now, I'm just happy to be here.

I love my mates more than anything. You don't always say to your friends, life's a better place with you in it. Tell people how you feel; tomorrow they may not be there.

I was scared when I first went back in the ocean. As much as I was stoked to be the water, there was shock and fear. Shock that I couldn't paddle and that everything I could do instinctually, like paddle and stand-up, was gone. When I first caught a wave, when I was going down the face, I couldn't see. It's like being drunk, you can't focus, everything's moving so quickly.

Three months after the accident, I went back out to Voodoo with my best mates Qriggsy and Dog. I was almost in tears. When I'm sitting out there with the boys, that's surfing to me. My identity was surfing. And that was when it came together again. Two of my best mates, my favourite wave, out on a sunny afternoon. That was when I felt like I was who I am. That's why I surf.

The first week I was in hospital, I was in the high-dependency ward. With the swelling on my brain, they weren't sure if I'd be able to remember things. I'd see people I was familiar with and I'd know 'em, but there were patches that were missing: where they were from, how I knew 'em. That's what scared me. I didn't care if I was disabled or deaf. It was losing control of my mind.

Get out of a routine. Go to a stage show instead of the pub, even just go to a different pub. Talk to a stranger on the train. Enrich your life. It's too precious to let go stale. When I went to Europe for the first time, I had no money. Antman, who didn't know me, took me into his van, cooked me up a feed and introduced me to Sam Carrier. Together we travelled together in the van for three months. We'd camp, eat under the stars, and chase swells. It was a world away from the pros with heaps of money who'd always be talking about their multiple houses and their new cars.

I've never been religious. I've never turned. After this, it was my friends and family that got me through. Not God.

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