Andy Irons 1978-2010

I didn’t know Andy Irons. I never had the good fortune to meet

him, like so many people on this island did.

I didn’t know Andy Irons.

I never had the good fortune to meet him, like so many people on this island did.

So while living here on Kaua‘i for a little less than two years now hasn’t necessarily made me feel like I know him, it has gotten me to a point where I feel like I know at least the type of person he was.

Even before this week, but amplified much more loudly since, the most outspoken sentiment about Andy away from the water was that he was a genuine person.

That’s a word and a trait that I hold in high regard.

Often times, fans may talk about how nice a well-known person is when they are lucky to meet them, or the good deeds that they do in the public eye. Yet there is a different tone when somebody describes a person they deem to be genuine.

It’s a more honest description, one that shows somebody’s true humanity.

It provides a reflection of all of us in someone we might typically envision on a loftier plane.

The stories that are being told among so many describe how Andy embodied such a diverse personality.

He was an emotional person, unafraid to where his heart on his sleeve.

Though he was considered perhaps the most competitive person many pro surfers ever came across in the water, he was also always willing to give advice to younger riders trying to make it on the tour, always wanting to share aloha with everyone around him.

He talked about how surfing gave him the balance that he had always needed to keep his life on an even keel and how without it, he might have just spun out of control. He loved to surf so much, that getting into the water everyday never felt excessive.

He made time for fans, no matter where he was. People have sent descriptions of seeing Andy on a sidewalk, doing a double take, mustering up the courage to approach him only to find him more than happy to take a photo and give a minute of his time.

He kept his roots planted where they had originally sprouted, maintaining Kaua‘i as his home and giving back to those who idolized him, bringing free gear to the keiki out at Pine Trees in what became the annual Irons Brothers Classic.

The level of admiration for Andy is not known by much of the world. It wasn’t known to me before I moved out here. Sure, I knew the name, but not really what the name meant.

Now, I get it.

Those who talk about watching his lines from the shore all seem to bring a level of artistry to the discussion. How he was so clean and natural, how he and the wave seemed to work together as one, how there was no wave he wouldn’t charge and attempt to tame.

The great surfers of Hawai‘i all echoed one another, proclaiming Andy as the greatest the state has ever produced. Declarations of that nature are few and far between.

It’s almost impossible for me to compare Andy’s situation to any other superstar athlete, since surfing is an individual sport where riders’ sole affiliation is basically where they come from.

Is it the same as if Kobe Bryant tragically passed away in the middle of a Lakers road trip? Peyton Manning? Derek Jeter?

It is the same in that his level of stardom and respect among both fans and peers is on par with those individuals.

What makes this different and unique is that every time Andy put the jersey on, he was representing not a team, but a people. He was out there for the state of Hawai‘i and, more specifically, the fewer than 65,000 residents of Kaua‘i.

While there are so many roadblocks that can cause a young person to discount what is possible, Andy was one guy that was looked at as the example of what’s out there. Of what can be possible.

“Andy Irons did it.”

Wide-ranging, rich memories and farewell messages came across my desk this week from all corners of the globe, while many of the warmest and detailed stories are all being told by word of mouth around Kaua‘i, ensuring that he will not soon be forgotten.

RIP Andy.