Derek Rielly talked with Bobby Martinez in 2012, not long after Martinez, following a live-streamed expletive-filled rant about the state of pro surfing, quit the world tour. He was 28. This interview ran in Stab issue #62, as part of a larger feature titled "Bobby's Closing Statement."

Wanna climb back in time and tell me how you felt about the tour?

The tour, at first, when I didn’t really know anything about it, was fun and fresh. Then as I was there longer, I heard all this shit that was going on behind the scenes. Every surfer was complaining and no one was happy. But they wouldn’t say shit. It fucken got to me because I love surfing so much. And I started forgetting about the love I had because so much shit was going on with it that it made me hate it. And then I knew it was my time to hang it up [the tour], because the thing that I love was slowly being sucked out of me.

As far as the surfers, it was just everybody always complaining. All those surfers' meetings where guys would bitch and complain about shit they’re not going to get. But they want to bitch and complain anyway, and sit in these meetings and act like they’re going to do something. Except they never put their foot down! So it was just a bitchfest for all the WCT guys. I stopped going to these meetings because nothing was happening. I didn’t want to hear a bunch of guys gossip about shit they’re not happy with it, and not going to do anything about.

Another complaint of yours was the judging. But the judges did respond to your surfing—you racked up four event wins over the years. How do you regard your legacy?

I wasn’t the best but I could beat the best. I mean, fuck, was I the most exciting surfer? No. Was I kinda boring at times? Yeah. I was just trying my best, trying to fit the standards, to make it through another heat. I’m happy with what I did, and I feel like I went out with a bang. I glad I left when I did. I look back now and I see the contests and [Martinez' voice drops to a whisper] I could never fucking be there. I look at guys who've been there longer than me and go, how the fuck are they doing this? How are they still there?

Were you happy after you blew up on the mic during the New York contest?

Relieved and happy, yeah. I wanted to be heard. I felt like the kids coming up, they needed to hear that. Some guys spend years on the QS and they dream of how it is, and they deserve the dream, but they should know what it's like too. So I spoke from the heart and told it like it is. And you know, there are a lot of surfers on tour who agree with me completely, but there’s only one who said it. I was like, Fuck this bullshit, I need to speak from the heart. And that’s what I did. It was a weight off my chest. I could breathe! I’m not living in this bullshit world no more and I’m out with a bang, like, Fuck you guys!

What’d y’do after you bit off the mic?

Got my shit, left the contest site, did a little interview with Surfline, went back to the hotel and kinda kicked back. My wife was tripping.


Then you got thrown out of the event. Were you surprised by the blunt force applied by the ASP?

Yeah, I was. Fuck. I can’t talk shit about 'em but Jeremy Flores can get in a fucking fight and punch somebody before the Quiksilver event? I didn’t physically hurt no one. I’m not saying Jeremy hurt no one either, that punch didn’t look like it did nothing, but he fucking threw it. It was a physical confrontation. I didn’t do that. I just spoke my mind, so yeah I think they did me dirty, I think they did me wrong. I thought I was gonna get a fine but they kicked me out and didn’t even pay my money for winning the heat.

Renato Hickel [ASP WCT manager]. He called and told me. He said something like, You know, we can’t let you compete, everyone voted. And then a security guard, Woody, came to my room to check my temperature ‘cause I told Renato I was going to surf my next heat anyway. Fuck that, I was just fucking with him. I didn’t give a shit at that point. Life goes on. Life ain’t the tour.

Theoretically, if you hadn’t been disqualified and you’d done well in the event, maybe even won, would you have gone to the next event?

No, I was done. I was done with traveling. I was going to just do the contests in California, not chase the tour. I would have done San Francisco and Pipe, and maybe Trestles. Or maybe not. Because I fucking hate that place. I really like Frisco and I really like Hawaii but I hate Trestles.

Before the New York contest, were you already thinking about doing something like what you did?

We were having a barbecue one day here in Santa Barbara, this was a month before, and I was talking with a friend, and I told him, if I win a heat over there [New York] and get a chance to speak on camera, I’m going to fucking tell it all. I’m not going to say something nice. I’m going to tell 'em, Fuck you guys.

No, I was just thinking about the heat. But the minute I won, it all came back to me. This is my time right now.

Fuck no! I was pumped! I couldn’t wait! I was filled with adrenalin like I’d just won the contest. And you know what? I got a lot of good feedback. A lot of people told me they were pumped, 'cause I spoke for those people who wouldn’t speak up. I was the voice for those surfers.

This is what I wanted! This is what I wanted! I wanted a one-minute interview just to tell it like it is. I couldn’t wait for that moment!

Imagine if Monster [Martinez' sponsor] backed a tour event, dropped you on the card, and you won every heat, won the contest, and after each heat you just lit up the mic.

On the podium, first place, you’re still going, talking shit!

I'd be like, Fuck you, give me my money, you gay-ass tour! I would love that. I’d come up with something good to say. I wouldn’t say "gay" cause I don’t have anything against gay people, but yeah, that would be cool. That’s the only way I'd do a contest now, is if my sponsor said, Just be yourself, win, and say what you want. That’s the only way I would come back and do an event.


Do you miss the excitement of surfing heats?

I miss having a goal to work towards. Free-surfing is just . . . I don't know, there's no goal, it feels like you just go out there and someone takes a photo. I miss having something in life to chase. It doesn’t need to be surfing. But it needs to be something. I’m like, what do I do with myself now? Like, what to I chase now to get that fulfillment?

Was there a comedown after you quit? Financially, emotionally?

Not emotionally. Because surfers ain’t shit, fame-wise. We’re not on the news, paparazzi aren't following us no matter who the fuck you are. We're just normal people who surf. Outside of surfing, we’re nothing. So I never looked at myself as special in any way.

How about the transition from earning a ton of cash to not so much. That must be hard.

Yes and no. I hated where I was at. I hated being with [former sponsor] Reef. They used me in a video [

] that I fucken hated and didn’t want to come out, but they did with me what they wanted. At that time, money didn’t mean anything to me. That’s why I left Reef. It was my choice to leave Reef. Reef didn’t leave me. If I wanted to stay, I would’ve stayed and gotten my fucken 500 grand a year. That’s what they were going to pay me.

But doesn’t that money seem, in hindsight at least, kinda handy? Like a year or two more and you could’ve been in a real nice position.

Yeah but see, the thing is, I’m not a person who gives a shit about money. Because I left a half-million dollar contract on the table. Reef was gonna pay me 500 grand a year and I said, Fuck that, I’m done. I grew up with no money. I see family members who don’t have money but are rich in . . . life. Money doesn’t make you happy. I was happier without Reef than I was accepting their money and being fucking portrayed as an idiot. Same thing with Oakley. I was making 200 grand a year with Oakley and I said, fuck, I’m done with you guys. I stayed true to myself. Money doesn’t make me. I didn’t get into surfing for money, you know what I’m saying? If I’ve gotta garden, whatever, fuck, I don’t give a shit. I’m not a money-hungry materialistic guy. Maybe if I had to do some hard work, maybe it’d make me appreciate the things I don’t appreciate now. But what I went through then, I didn’t enjoy it, so I said, Fuck this.

Still, tearing up a half-mill contract can't be easy.

I had a chance to make a million. My contract with Reef was 550 grand a year. If I finished top five I’d get 850, and if I won the world title I’d get 1.2 million, right? I said, fuck you guys, get me out of my contract. I’m a simple person. My Dad’s a very simple guy and my Mom is very simple and I grew up with simple needs. People will be, like, Oh my god, you’re an idiot. Well, in my eyes you’re a money-hungry bitch.

Sorry to pursue the theme, but did you do the financial calculations in your head beforehand, to work out what kinda position you’d be in if you left?

Alright, let's change the subject. Who do you like out there these days? Who’s got a good act?

I really like Dane, and I like John John a lot. They’re just mellow, they stick to themselves. They’re definitely my favorites.

I don’t know where I’m at. I really don’t know. Sometimes I want to try and do a turn and sometimes I’m, like, I don’t really care. I’m at a weird place in surfing. I surf to have fun now, but it’s kinda aimless.

You’re sessions are famous for being dramatically short. Like, five-minute, two-wave sessions.

I do that when the waves are shitty. I don’t need to go out for an hour when the waves are two foot and try and do a hundred airs. But at least I get in the water. I continue to surf. I'm still doing it.

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