AIN'T
"IT
SATURDAY: BORN TO DIE
When you die, it is the coroner's job to figure
out what time you expired. Flies are always
around laying eggs on the eyes of a body, so the
coroner takes samples of the larva, sees how far
they have incubated, and presto, time of death.
Anyway my eyes felt like they had been the petri
dish for a legion of flies when I opened them on
Saturday morning. But I knew that the weekend
had only begun and I better get moving. Brant
Kaake, Rock and Roll Steve and I were on our
way to the Oakland hills char zone for some
pool skating. We started off at the Black Bottom
where we met Royce Nelson, Curtis Hsaing and
other concrete cowboys. Royce skates this pool
so hard and raw that it feels like your eyes have
been ripped out and your head skullfucked. He
powers airs in the six-foot range, ollies to tail at
will, and makes disasters that melt your brain
We skated four other pools before dragging our
gunite booger-filled noses into the City for a stop.
at the contest site. While skating has changed so
much, it seems the contest layout has changed
very little-lots of transition and few genuine
street artifacts. By chance, I hooked-up with
Bryce who was going to his ramp for a session.
Needless to say. I got in the car. The session at
43 lasted till about eight o'clock and then the
action shifted toward the Mission for a show at
Studio i where Mark (wannabe Rollins) Sperry's
band Third Rail was playing with instrumental
group Gifthorse. We made it back to Big Rog's:
house about two thirty, which was just in time
for the mohawk party to begin.
SUNDAY: WHY DO YOU LOOK AT ME
WHEN YOU HATE ME?
Notoriously, contests are full of freaks standing
around with their arms crossed looking at every-
thing and saying nothing. The worst thing is that i
nobody says "Hello," before you acknowledge.
them first. Someone that you may have known a
long time will more that likely walk right by you.
Or if you look at the crowd from the other side,
Were the first words to come out of Tom Guerrero's mouth,
after he was proclaimed victor of
the NSA Back to the City 4 contest.
Whether the reference was to the
placings, the scoring, or his skat-
ing, it was definitely course for
discussion at the fountain on this
Labor Day 1992 in San Francisco.
by Jake Phelps
On his home turf, Tom Guerrero (left) casually laughed all the
way to the finals. But when he was proclaimed victor, he took
a more somber approach. On the other hand, Mike Carroll
(right) was confident, technical and held back nothing
RIGHT"
Mike Carroll heelflipped...