REX MARECHAL
ERTLEY
OnF
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By about the time the Pro's got
around to skating, the sun was being
its old unrelentful self. So far it had
been a hot day and the brewskis con-
stantly flowed my way. I sweated alot
and I felt like a fish. The fishy smell
and sweaty heat seemingly had no af-
fect on the Pro poolriders (I guess
they're quite used to the smell of
three days dead mackarel on the
pier), who blazed and tore their way
through the gonzo qualifing session.
Mike Folmer, Steve Caballero, Duane
Peters, Al Losi, Billy Ruff and some
other guys were the top dudes that
bombed and shattered the serenity of
the pool's dimensions.
The traditional bombardment of the
pool by the heavyweight skate-
mongers made it hard to tell who
would be the eventual victors, let
alone the qualifiers, until the dust
had settled.
Next on the agenda for the day was
the banked freestyle portion of the
contest. This I found to be very enter
taining. There were many poolriders
out there strutting their stuff in
divine style. In the amateurs, Brian
Martin, a young man from somewhere
around Long Beach (I think), had an
excellent repertoire of maneuvers and
riding vehicles. One outstanding
highlight of his routine that I
remember best is his 8-wheeler
kickflip move. Killer. That move
eventualy won it for him, taking first
in the AM freestyle.
The runs were limited to one run
each for qualifying. One, two minute
run. This, I heard some of the skaters
mention, was too long. I figured that
it gave them a good chance to cram
as many little tricks into the alloted
time, not to mention, all of the time
thay had to get back on the board
once they fell off. John Gibson, the
Texas skatepoke, usually more
renowned as a pool shredder, sliced
the cool Lone Star freestyle routine
that vibrated with aggressiveness. I
was stoked, and so was the crowd.
The aforementioned Tony Hawk,
was highly aggressive and unified
with his skate conciousness. He per-
formed brilliantly and locked a spot in
the finals. Christian Hosoi, was also
styling heavilishly, rippity-rip.
Under the protection of the palm
leaves, the judges evaded Mr. Sol, our
mentor of the daylight hours.
Scrutinizing and judging, judging and
scrutinizing. The peers from that sec
tion made me aware that the outcome
would be close. I was right.
The pros took to the freestyle area.
Low and behold and what do my
S.B.B. eyes observe? Some Oldtimers.
Yes sports-fans, some of the big
names of the past when skateboar-
ding was in it's reinception period
back in the '76 era. Bruce Logan, the
harshly fluid and precise freestyle
king, who set the trend that others
would follow in the years of his reign.
His routine sent many people back
to the days of the pointed toe, red-
face maneuver. Excellent form with
the eminence of a cobra with a
cause. His mood music for the
routine repelled sadness and reached
out for joy in the form of Bob Marley
tone. It is sort of like watching the
Red Baron fly a jet. I was informed
that this was his first competition in
about four years. He sure wasn't mak-
ing a bad show of it.
A leader usually leads and nothing
else. Sort of like the 'Don't do as I do,
Do as I say, type of concept. Not true
with the leader of the 'Bones
Brigade. Stacy Peralta, back in the
center ring with full potentcy, setting
the high standards for his subor-
dinates to follow. He skated to the
blues. Smoothe skate licks for the
cool set.
New faces pop up in the freestyle
scene from time to time. But one sur-
prise was to see Steve Caballero's
mug in there. He put up quite a
display along with other pool pals,
Billy Ruff and Mike Folmer.
Somewhere in the midst of all of
those happenings, was a little roller-
skate demo. I got to see a few riders
ride, but then I also saw some pump-
shank out in the parking lot. I decided
Steve Caballero, a force to be reckoned with, frontside footplant re-entry.
August 14th. I was a day early so I
decided to go and check out the prac-
tice sessions at the skatepark to
see who would be prevalent in the
contest and what notables would be
present in the festivities. I never
made it. I got as far as across the
street from the skatepark, where the
horse races were going on. Deciding
to try my luck (which could only get
better) I laid down all of my expense
money (20 bucks) on a horse named
'Fred'. 20-1 odds and 'Fred' won. I
was rolling in the bucks and knew
this was going to be a good weekend.
Saturday, August 15th, 1981. I arriv
ed early in the mid-morning full of
maximum gonzo gusto. My first con-
tact with the in crowd came on my
aproach to the entrance. Stacy
Peralta. He inquired about how I
could have such a cool belt buckle
and how he too, could be "Too cool"
After a few unembarrassing in-
cidents I went out to breakfast at a
creepy looking dive that was fixtured
inside and old cattle car. 'Huevos
Rauncheritos' was recommended.
They had to be kidding. I found it
hard to believe that 'peoples' actually
ate this stuff.
Midway through my hack in walked
Chris Strople, Sonny Miller, Ray
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'Bones', Shogo and some other guy.
They ordered likewise. I was going to
warn them, but, I thought it would be
interesting to see a handful of
notables walking around with the
same twisted expression on their
faces on this first day of competition.
This is the day where the skaters
would find out who would be seeded
in the semi-finals. The amateurs were
first to take the center ring, they com-
prised a big field of about 40 (give or
take) acrobatic skateboarders on this
sun drenched afternoon. Most all of
the skaters proved to be stiff competi-
tion. Some standouts that I noticed
while I was paying attention were
Christian Hosol, with his lofty lean air
(or however it is spelled) and satin
smoothe syle. Tony Hawk (Mr. Pint,
someone called him from the stands),
tear-tear. He should apply for a pilots
license for the amount of flying time
he logged in this contest. His
maneuvers, that were bogglers of my
mind, pleased the crowd and the
judges, getting him seated in the
Semi's. Tony Magnusson, from
Sweden, definately caught the crowds
eye with his half-pipe approach to
pool riding. Lance Mountain,
Carabeth Burnside, Brad Jackman,
Paul Molina and a host of others.
weren't slouch's either in their perfor-
mances to say the least.
D.D.M. put on quite an exceptional
performance in his vocal postion,
hitting every highlight mark with
gleeful frivolity, making this contest
as colorful as possible.
The judges for this thing were
drawn from skateboard history. Curtis
Hesselgrave, the doctor from the old
SKATEBOARDER magazine. Curt Kim-
ble, just recently married veteran of
the Badlands. Chris Stople, another
Badlands vet transplanting himself
constantly but now residing in the
North County. Yet another Badlander
in the judging, Don Hoffman, the Don
of his neighborhood. The judges were
rounded off with the honorable
prescence of Shogo Kubo, early
Dogtown settler and practitioneer.
The amateurs got the luxury of be-
ing cut to the top sixteen as opposed
to being narowed to the top eight as
the Pro's were to be. It was a very
cool run-off situation, making the
skaters skate, 'man-to-man', with the
losers going to the losers bracket,
and the winners doing the same, only
reversing the process and stepping up
a notch in the winners bracket.
Everyone skated tough and nobody
made it easy for the qualifiers to qualify.
EL
T
G&
THRASHE
On the second day, the crowd focused.
Rick Tracey in the middle of it all.
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