did the splits.
Rodney was looking sharp. He has a few
more tricks up his quiver since the last time
he saw competition. As far as anything is
concerned in this contest, Rodney has to
be the greatest freestyler that has ever
skateboarded.
After all of those proceedings, it was
nearly dark by the time the pro pool event
got under way. The qualifying was such a
ferocious turmoil of bodies and boards, that
it seemed to last only a matter of minutes.
A violent storm, an instantaneous tirade.
Steve Caballero was in there, as well as
his teamates, Tony Hawk and Mike McGill.
Alan Losi was aggressively terrorizing
the pool, easily the crowd favorite this
evening. Also from the Vari-squad was
Lance Mountain. He was putting out some
real high performance runs.
Micke Alba was powering the pool's
peripheries, but not good enough to make
the cut this time.
Gator has had a run of bad luck lately,
this time he slammed his hip early in the
day.
Christian Hosoi was pouring on the
energy to some very incredible extremes.
The same went for Billy Ruff. Billy's table
top backside airs are stupifying, beyond
comprehension.
After proceedings for the first day had
ended, there was an endless stir in the
parking lot and everyone dispersed to their
respectable staging grounds for the even-
ing's activities. On both eves of the contest,
the goings-on were strange and numerous
in the motel rooms of the non-locals. Gnit
burned himself out early, so the
THRASHER staff member of room #259
organized an impromptu party of literary fi-
gures. There was talk of G.S.D., Lowboy,
John Smythe, Carlos Izan, and Mark
Twain's name popped up a few times. Mike
Pust of Calgary, Canada (ref. Nov. '82, The
Calgarians) spoke of the words of Charles
Bukowski and William Burroughs.
Almost every skater in the competition
shuffled in and out of #259.
Mark Rogowski was limping around the
swimming pool, and then decided to relax
in the jacuzzi. Once settled, he looked
down into the water and laughed, noticing
he was still wearing jeans. With a big grin
on his face, he turned to an elderly gentle-
man seated in the bubbly warm water and
said, "So, you skate?"
Elderly gentlemen in resort communities
don't react well to aggressive vocabulary
In the amateur freestyle, Chris Cook wowed
the crowd with aggressive moves like this fence-
drop into the banked arena.
such as that. Soon Gator had the jacuzzi all
to himself.
Billy Ruff looked like he was having one
of the best times of his life, living up to his
four drink limit. In his company was Steve
Caballero and a small following of about
seven.
Neil Blender was busy having a young
girl-fan from Palmdale follow him around
most of the time.
G.S.D. was walking around the hotel
courtyard with a pack on his back.
People swam, bobbed, or were pushed
into the hotel pool 'til around five in the
morning while the Canadian, Texan, and
two Americans watched a Russian war
movie 'til dawn. Tex Gibson learns the real
meaning of life.
Christian Hosoi? Well...., we won't say
what he did.
Mike Smith and Mark Rogowski broke
into room #259 and rubbed handsoap all
over their hair so it would stand up straight.
This woke up a certain writer-person.
Mike Smith got shoved through the 2nd
story screen door onto a balcony just like in
the movies.
Micke Alba posed nude with his new
board model for some potential advertise-
ment material.
Every other person carried a 12 pack of
Budweiser (cans).
On the morning of the finals, #259's floor
was littered with bodies. Neil Blender was
curled up in a corner snuggling a jar of
TANG, the powdered orange drink nourish-
ment used by the astronauts.
On the floor, at the end of the double bed
nearest the broken sliding screen door, a
nose poked up through a rumpled beer
stained bedspread. It was Glen E. Fried-
man. He snuck in sometime in the middle of
the night. He had been up all evening drink-
ing coffee with a member of the opposite
sex. Everyone else in the room, being ex-
perienced travellers, were thus, prepared
for this sort of syndrome. Sympathetically,
they offered Glen salt.
Gnit was off to the airport immediately.
Seems that Mr. Lowboy was due in early
today.
As usual, Friedman had to make some
phone calls, so the rest of the cast of room
#259 adjourned to a real earthy diner out
on the Pacific Coast Highway.
At the table in the poshly decorated res-
taurant sat Mike Smith, Christian Hosol,
some Mexican with a sword through his ear
and Neil Blender.
Jerry Valdez performed some unique and
unnatural freestyle routines. (top left and below)
The waitress was fat, ugly and wore glas-
ses, but was probably healthy.
Neil didn't seem to like her very much, so
everyone else followed his cue.
The Mexican asked Neil how he thought
he might fare in todays finals. Before Neil
could respond, his elbow which, up until
then was supporting his chin cupped in his
hand slipped off the table. His face
smacked on to the placemat. Reeling back
instantly and calmly, Neil remarked "Oh, I
shouldn't have done that," and then con-
tinued with his conversation. The rest of the
dining room could not believe what had
happened. Neil scratched his nose, confi-
dent, as he is THEE ROLE MODEL CITI-
ZEN. Rumors have it that he can barf on
command. Fortunately no one questioned
him.
Mike Smith pointed to a large, glass
framed, painting in which a large spider had
made its' nest. People began to take notice
and were becoming somewhat distraught.
Christian Hosoi pointed to the tin roof
and tacky panelled walls and grimaced,
"Look, there's weeds growing into this
place."
There was an instantaneous clatter of sil-
verware onto the plates of half-finished
meals and within minutes, the room was
half empty.
Just another local?
SWEPIN
After the meal, Neil demonstrated his
driving techniques. Such as; anti-preppy
curb grinds and old-lady tail gating. Model
citizen?
Back at the park, the sun was blazing.
hard and the amateur freestyle finals were
underway. Dominating this event and cor-
raling first was Keith Butterfield. Second
went to Ray Gardea and in third was An-
thony Sedilla. It seems that the interest in
freestyle has been growing considerably in
off-vert popularity.
Next was the Pro-freestyle finals.
The competition was extremely intense.
The masters were present and accounted
for. Per Welinder was extremely intense.
The masters were present and accounted
for. Per Welinder was having near-flawless
runs in his smooth Swede style. Primo De-
siderio was erratic as ever, with his fastest
feet in the west' routine. Rodney was rip-
Mike McGill muscles this difficult strangely twisted and contorted handplant variation.
ping, but it looked as though he was mis-
sing a bit here and there. This was very un-
like him. Someone had said that it was ru-
mored that Rodney was going to quit com-
petitive skating forever after the summer.
Could there be any truth to a serious rumor
such as this? Not Rodney, it would be like
taking the heat away from the fire.
Anyway, at the hilt of the freestyle pro-
ceedings, first place was divulged, and it
was awarded to Per Welinder with Rodney
taking second. A major upset. From now
on, Rodney will have to keep looking over
his shoulder because the freestyle com-
petitors are surely after him.
Third place went to Holknekt and fourth
to Primo.
From here, there was a pause in events.
as the Pro pool riders took their practice for
the main event.
The Pro-pool event was moved up for
photographic lighting convenience. The
practice session was dynamic in contrast
with other previous pool events at this site.
The ranks of the finalists consisted of
Hosoi, Magnusson, McGill, Caballero,
Losi, Hawk, Blender, and Ruff.
It looked as though Tony Hawk had the
pool the most wired. He continuous-
ly pulled off his one-footed
backside airs, along with his
strangely contorted hand plants.
Tony even flipped out of the pool,
sans board, and
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