Kyle Turley shows up for the interview at 7:30.

In the morning.

I'm still waking up, and not sure if the haze I see across the water at Oceanside, California's south jetty is really fog, or just my eyes adjusting to my contacts. Kyle drove an hour from the Valley to get here, and I feel guilty about making a guy who's about to start training camp get out of bed at 6 a.m.

"Hey, it's all part of it," Kyle says with a smirk.

He's not referring to his job as an offensive lineman for the Saints -- and no, he doesn't feel any special obligation to the media. He's a hardcore surfer who stayed away from football until his senior year in high school "because I knew it would take time away from my surfing."

So Kyle's staring out at the waves, or lack thereof, from the comfort of his Ford F250 Superduty truck. And he's bummed. "Where's the swell? I heard it was great yesterday. Man, I hate this."

With overcast skies, a cool 60-something degrees and no waves, the morning looks shot.

But Kyle's got a plan. After a two-hour delay (hanging out with his childhood buddies at their surfboard factory), Kyle's anxious to make a go of it. The sun's out, and although the waves aren't any bigger, Kyle's in the water, prone on his board, waiting for the perfect wave.

Which, an hour-and-a-half later, still hasn't come.

The 6'5", 300-pound, blue-eyed surfer needs a large wave, and there aren't any this day.

"It's all part of it," Kyle shrugs.

I'm still trying to see past the haze.

Shelly Gepfert covers The Life for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail shelly.gepfert@espnmag.com.