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VISION
STREET
WEAR
KAYPRO
BRYCE KNIGHTS
Story by Kevin J. Thatcher
Pre-contest festivities got off to a rocky start on
the Thursday before the big weekend. An indoor
event of this caliber is a far cry from a backyard
half-pipe contest on an existing ramp. Master
ramp carpenters Paul Schmitt, Timmy Payne and
their crew mixed it up with Union carpenters,
while installing the massive half-pipe. All the while
lighting technicians, sound personel and the
Unreel video clan buzzed around the massive (by
skate event standards) arena, stringing cable,
ANA HYPE
hoisting light standards and hand trucking
speaker systems and camera booms into place
An eleventh hour decision by Brad Dorfman and
Don Hoffman to "go all out" in making this con-
test a pro show, on and off the ramp, was touch-
and-go all the way. It was a big undertaking, and
an expensive one by the time all the receipts were
tallied. A huge tower for the judges and officials
was constructed on one side of the ramp. Two
giant video screens were hoisted into place.
Speaker columns with enough blasting power to
raise the dead flanked the ramp. Spotlights
bathed the ramp stage with red and purple hues.
A sea of chairs flooded the main floor, augmen-
ting thousands of fixed seats that dominated the
interior walls of the arena. Outside across a
massive parking lot, a view of Disneyland rose
out of the Orange County haze. Anaheim was an
atypical setting for an event that was, by all in-
dications, going to be the biggest that skateboard-
ing had ever seen. As Russ Howell stated dur-
ing an on-camera interview, "This is where it all
started with the Anaheim World Championships
in 1965"
Arriving competitors treated the whole situa-
tion with shrugs and off-handed vibes regarding
the nature of the proceedings. The ever-
tightening NSA protocol was evident, even dur-
ing a drive-by scan of the impressive arena site.
Portable barricades blocked off the highly
skateable exterior architecture of the arena to pre-
vent spontaneous street assaults by antsy com-
petitors and hangers around. A squadron of totally
oblivious security hirees, there to pad their retire-
ment income, scurried about, directing pedes-
trian and skater traffic through the proper en-
trance and exit points. The arena box office was
doing a brisk business in advance ticket sales.
Inside the facility, Friday practice sessions
brought a bustling flurry of activity as amateur and
pros alike got their first taste of the Anaheim ramp.
The aforementioned production crews were dial-
ing in equipment with sound checks and lighting
tests while skaters rocked back and forth on the
ramp. A "who are you, where's your credentials,
don't stand over there, keep your nose clean"" at-
titude pervaded, and NSA Czar Frank Hawk was
always close at hand to remind anybody of the
proper procedures (as if everybody hadn't already
been informed of the rules and regulations go-
verning this event). The NSA rulebook had been
reinforced in anticipation of deviant behavior.
"Because this is a city facility," the Holiday Havoc
competitors' pamphlet warned, "and not our
backyards, all of us-officials, skaters, sponsors,
press and spectators-must conform to, and fol-
low, certain rules."
Throughout the disciplined schedule of
amateur and pro practice-by-heats on Friday,
there was little cause for stress for either skaters
or the administration. However, a few tense
moments did occur before everyone was fully ad-
justed. One skater yanked on a ladder hanging
from an overhead bank of spotlights, and nearly
sent a union gaffer into an airwalk of life. Other
run-ins had a lighting techi turning off all the lights
on a few practice heats. Tony Hawk broke the icy
atmosphere once by dropping into the nearly
pitch black transitions off the ramp for a few auto-
pilot side-to-sides.
Despite any friction between contestants and
coordinators this was the final event of a suc-
cessful 1986 campaign of NSA contests. All the
qualifying amateurs and virtually every com-
petitive pro had at least taken the event serious-
ly enough to show up. The sponsored amateur
contingency, culled from the four regional NSA
qualifying events (10 each from the Southwest/
Harmony-Houston and Midwest/Chicago Blow
Out and 15 each from the Eastern/VA Beach
Costed on P
Steve Caballero's contest routines
are virtually spotless these days. Flip
and catch during a serious practice
session.
Opposite page, clockwise from top: San Diegan, Califor
nian, Reese Simpson, stole the spotlight and the largest
amateur trophy while Louis B. Dorfman looked on. Mike
Smith chewed up the ramp with his typically avant
garde attitude and attire. Program and product sales
were brisk in the lobby. But, boards had to be checked
and filed at the door.
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