It is 6:30 on a chilly February morning in Santa Barbara, and a photographer and his crew are gathered in the parking lot at Rincon Beach Park, waiting for Kelly Slater. "The light is perfect," the photographer says. By 7 a.m., dark clouds are creeping north from Los Angeles. The sun disappears behind their thick wall, stealing the photographer's perfect light and adding to the chill. "I think the rain will hold off," he says hopefully. Slater's publicist arrives. A videographer. More photo assistants. They wait. 7:30 … 8 … The rain arrives, but still no Slater. 8:15 … 8:30 …



In his new book, For the Love, Slater's co-author, Phil Jarratt, jokes that he wanted to title the book Waiting for Kelly. "This was my experience more often than not," he writes in the introduction. Slater's peers accept his well-documented tardiness, though if he shows up late to a contest, he's lambasted in the press as an undedicated prima donna. Then, when he wins the event and perhaps the world title, as he's done nine times since 1991, all is forgiven.

That's what happens at today's photo shoot: Slater pulls up in his black Toyota Tacoma, apologizes and gets straight to work. "No worries at all," the photographer says. "It's only 8:30." Some things, it seems, are worth the wait.

The same could be said of Slater's blueprint to reinvent his sport, a plan nearly 20 years in the making. "I've been thinking about this since I got on the Tour, in 1991," Slater says later in the day, over lunch, when he sits down to discuss an extreme makeover of pro surfing and to play EXPN's version of Scrabble (to see the results, check out page 44). Not surprisingly, the übercompetitive Slater attacks both with the zeal of a finals heat at Pipeline. "I don't want to trash pro surfing," he says, fingering the seven tiles he's drawn from the bag. "It's the reason I have the friends and experiences I've had. But there are ways to make it better."

Here, in Slater's words, are 10.