John Lucero slammed so hard one time, that he couldn't move. A pair of medics came and took him away as John told jokes and said that the tape was gonna tear
his hair out. He was back by that evening. Pinched nerve.
Skip Engblom once told me, "Being a
surfer means never having to say you're
sorry about scamming shit." But, I can
never seem to get out to surf enough,
and never seem to have any tell-tale surf
callouses. So, I usually end up wearing
socks whenever trying to scam some
sort of professional crud. So far, a
couple of T-shirts. Nothing to feel really
guilty about.
see Neil Blender or Gator in the finals, but
those clowns bailed too many times during
their preliminary runs, thus axing any
hopes to win. Still, they put in a heavy
workout which was impressive.
Dealing with the final proceedings was
beyond ominous, well worth suffering
through hours of waiting, standing, watch-
ing, dozing, snoozing, several trips to the
Del Taco, and a couple six packs of
Coronas.
The dueling that actually went down in
the finals looked as though it was to be
between Lance Mountain, Jeff Phillips and
Steve Caballero for the number one slot.
Not that they were the only ones riding,
but, it just looked like it was gonna be
between those three. Billy Ruff, Christian
Hosoi, Craig Johnson, Al Losi, and John
Gibson were doing some unreal riding as
well. Gibson, for instance, was absolutely
unbelievable. Maintaining a fine line, he
consistently blasted four and five foot,
stylishly tucked, frontside airs, eight to ten
foot layback rollouts and vicious foot-plant
hoppers, his backside ollies were harsh.
Billy Ruff did not energize as he usually
The contest had run all day, and the
finals ended up taking place after the sun
had gone down. Chalk up another bad-tim-1
ing sketch. Nevertheless, the skating did
not suffer one bit. There was some furious
riding being dished out by the vertical
soldiers, as some verged on the vicious,
and near maniacal levels. Monty Nolder
hung tough with penetrating frontside airs,
and precision lip work. Tony Hawk seem-
ingly got burned for the finals, it was no
secret that he was definitely clicking on this
ramp. He pulled out almost every trick in
the book executing them with accuracy
and consistency. But, somehow he never
made the final cut. It woulda been great to
Lester Kasal can do almost any trick. Hey, what time is it?
does, but, still he maintained a rigorous
pace that included cool layback-airs, a few
units and three to four foot airs.
Craig Johnson is a MAD-MAN and he
skated to that effect. That's all I can say.
Losi was skating much better than he
usually does. Consistent, aggressive,
no-nonsense. It's funny, for as long as this
guy's been a pro, you'd think he'd be
fading away etc. But here he was, in the
finals.
And Christ, he's just simply unbelieva-
ble. He'd fly into these outrageous six foot
drifter torquer-airs and I thought to myself,
"Someone should slap this kid for abusing
the atmosphere so much."
To prove how flaky the judging situation
was, while everyone was awaiting the
announcement of the finalists, Lance had
stripped off all his pads and gear, planning
on watching the finals. He thought he had
done poorly, and so did I. But when the
finalists were announced, Lance had
made it. He was so surprised. The funny
thing is, Lance, who might not have other-
wise been in the final grouping, was one of
the stronger riders in the final segment of
the contest. He sure skated a hell of alot
better in the finals, than he did all weekend.
He just flowed, and was definitely on for
the duration. An extra-long, stalled out
hand plant nearly took off photographer
Grant Brittain's head, and numerous
times, Lance blasted some airs that at first
you thought he might not've pulled off, but
holding his line, he managed miraculously.
Caballero, occasionally dubbed "one of
the, if not the finest vertical skater in the
world," was putting out a sparkling flight
path. Never a disappointment, Cab's
unrelenting assault on this blue and yellow
launch pad had the audiences eyes spread
wide, never blinking, as he whizzed from
trick-to-trick. He's good, real good.
But Jeff Phillips was better, a local to the
ramp, Phillips can ride this ramp with
stressful authority. He knows its
peculiarities, what it's like in any condition,
especially now, when the moisture was
beginning to accumulate on the fiberglass
riding surface. Jeff simply blew minds,
including his competitors, who knowingly
acknowledged that he had this gig in the
bag. On one run, one of his many fine
endurance specials, he went from air to air,
to footplant, to air, with an occasional 540"
air thrown in for balance, back to back
hand plant variations, then he does a
roll-out, takes a foot off the board and
pushes off high into the air, back into the
frying pan. No contest, if he didn't win after
The "Flying Horseman," Caballero.
Tony Hawk, bombing the islands.
Eric Nash, one of the hottest, up and coming amateurs. "What about the
amateur part of Dallas?" you say. Well, uh, I had it done, but...uh....my
dog ate it and then it got washed, because it was in my pants pocket.
34
he did a bunch of those type of runs, I'm