BEFORE HE WAS KING:Part I 

Dean Randazzo is without a doubt the greatest surfer to ever come out of the Garden State, if not the entire East Coast, especially considering his battles with cancer.  He has overcome extreme adversity that would have any normal human being folding over and giving up. 

This superhuman strength that Dean has used to beat back cancer, surprises many but not those who watched Dean come up.  I first met Dean when he was about 10 years old. Here’s some insight on what it takes to be King.

 The year was 1981 and the park was closed, so we had to hop the fence. Bruce Beach, Guy Loggi, Tom Matthews, Ricky Atlas and myself were skating the Somers Point skate park.  Kids gotta do what a kids gotta do when there’s no surf, and the park was a perfect spot.

Already skating around was this little kid with his “afro” poking out the side of his helmet.  This kid was killing it and he was only about ten or eleven years old.  We all took turns skating the bowl.  The kid was there solo and would casually work his way into the rotation without saying a word.  When I say no word, I mean he did not speak for the entire two -three hour session.  Tom asked the kid his name and the kid just looks at him and drops into the bowl without saying a word.  Tom then looks at me and says, “yeah he can skate but he can’t surf”.  He said it just loud enough so the kid could hear it.  This was an effort to put this grom in his place, because he was obviously outskating all of us and we perceived his not talking to us as simply being conceited. 

Tom’s statement about this kid not surfing was pretty accurate.  I mean we surfed 7th Street in The OC every day and knew “everyone” who surfed well.  The legends, Jim Kirk, Wally Meyers, Bob McGlaughlin, Eric Wilkenson and Toms older brother Bob Matthews.  This was our time and few years before Tom, Bruce or I made the National Team, but we were still confident we could surf and skate with most.  However there was something about this kid that didn’t talk, something extraordinary.  Who was he? Where was he from? 

I was 17 and had this old Ford pick up that I would load up my buddies from “The Mainland” and we would head to 7th Street, or LBI, or States Ave.  Anywhere were there was good surf. I was the first out of crew to drive, so I was chaffuer by default.  One morning early Spring 1981, Loggi, Atlas and I would swing by Dunkin Donuts, around 6:30am, and pic up Tommy Matthews who had been there since 4:00am “making the donuts”.  None of  us actually ate the Donuts there because Tom had this nose picking thing, and had no qualms about stuffing a boogie or two in one of his products.  We all worked when we were kids and spent all our money on boards, wetsuits and wax.

It was late April and still kind of cold so the four of us sat in the cab of the truck, with the heat and the Devo cranking.  There was a good south swell so 7th street was the destination of choice.  We crusied through Somers point and over the bridge on the Somers Point / OC Causeway.  A dangerous two mile stretch of road, with no shoulder and cars speeding to and from Ocean City.  Nevertheless, we see somebody peddling their bike and carrying their board?  Loggi asked “who the fuck is that?” Matthews noted it was that same kid from the skate park we saw the month or so before. 

Wearing sneakers, shorts and an old beavertail wetsuit the kid was peddling some dilapidated beach cruiser, steering with one hand and holding onto an old Bunger single fin with the other.  We decided to pull over and see if the kid wanted a ride.  Sure enough the kid tosses his bike and board in the back.  With no room up front the kid had to ride in the back as well.  We all looked at each other and smiled; doing our good deed for the day, helping out “a grom in need”.  He looked a little out of place in the back of the truck, not only because it was freezing and he was wearing shorts, but his board was brown from sun exposure with one fin and we had new twinies with 80’s neon and checkers.  Once again the kid said nothing, but was clearly happy for the ride. 

We got to 7th Street and parked in the dirt lot that use to be The Wonder Wave, next to “Hole in One Donuts”.  The Kid hops out of the back of the truck with his gear, thanks us and heads directly to the beach as we put on our 3 mils. 

It was cold that morning for sure, and the water wasn’t much warmer. There was a cold front that pushed through and the wind was offshore and it was sunny with a solid three foot swell. By the time we walked over the boards and onto the beach, this kid already was out and paddling into a set wave.  He makes a smooth bottom turn and drives down the line on a solid head high wave.  Nothing special but it was clear, the kid could surf. 

We get to the water’s edge, and… “FUCK that waters cold”…First session with no boots usually feels a little nipply, but hell that grom is out in trunks so we manned up and paddled out, with word from no one about fetching our boots out of the truck.  It was a fun session, with this grom again casually working his way into the pecking order of the lineup. Not one of us had seen him out at 7th Street before, but he seemed like a good kid, a little on the quiet side, but cool.  Another set rolls in, Matthews picks off the first wave and I get the second.  On the paddle back out the grom picks off a nice set wave makes a bottom turn and gets a little cover.  I laugh and said to Tom “hey it looks like that kid can surf”…, Toms response was a loud WEEEEE.  We get back out to the line-up and this kid paddles right over and has this big smile on his face, his lips are blue from the chill and he’s shivering, but clearly stoked…Matthews asks “hey what’s your name”  still smiling after a good wave the kids responds “Dean Randazzo. 

About a couple of weeks later Deans out again and he’s ripping.  Strong bottom turns, off the tops and round house cutties.  One wave in particular that sets the tone for the session is a nice little left at the middle peak at 7th. Dean drives down the line, gets some speed and flips a backside 360?!  We were amazed.  Dean brought his skate talent to the surf.  Funny thing though was he was still riding that same Bunger single fin and wearing that same beavertail wetsuit.   When I got home to 51st Street I saw my neighbor Mitch Leonard who managed Surfers Supplies and told him about this grom phenom.  Soon thereafter Dean was riding for George and the guys at Supplies.  Sporting a new Linden twin fin and a Rip Curl wetsuit, Dean was off to the races.  This was a help, as Dean’s family was of modest means.  He lived in Somers Point with his Mom and brother Joe.  His Mom worked all day to support the family which meant Dean was own his own to get to the beach every day.  Which meant riding his bike or hitching a ride with someone, anyone who could get him to the water.  Dean learned to over come adversity at an early age and will things to happen.

In the years to come Dean became a regular traveling companion. Whether it was driving to the Watersheds Winter Surf Fest in Rhode Island with Mitch Leonard and Ev. Bauer, circa 1983; traveling through Southern California and  Mexico with the crew or living together in San Clemente for the Summer of 1984, the Dean Randazzo era had arrived and Surfing in New Jersey hasn’t been the same since.  All stories for another day.

(EDITORS NOTE: This is the first in a series of “Before he was King”, about the living Surf Legend Dean Randazzo and some fun stories about how he made it and how he continues to rock the surfing world.  The writer Tom “Johnny” Forkin is a former National Team Member (82-84) and is presently a corporate attorney in New York and Philadelphia, residing in Toms River with wife and four sons. )