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Two Stories By Mark Gonzales
BAREFOOTIN'
"W
atch this ollie to nose stall!" Pedro
screamed out as he approached
the steep bank which had little
transition. Everyone was watching. "I'm gonna
pop off the top and nollie back into the tight
tranny." We were all waiting to see if he'd pull
it. Pedro didn't pull it. When he was in the nose
stall, he slipped to board and hopped off.
Jamal said, "Why didn't you just come in after
you went to board?"
"I was wondering the same thing," Pedro said.
"No slack. Pure perfection. If I ain't gonna do it.
right I don't wanna do it at all."
Jamal skated towards the bank with a large
smile. He didn't declare any certain trick. But I
knew I was gonna be a good one 'cause of the
expression on his face and it was clack, boom,
and zoom tat schwoom. Ta ta ta ta. If you could
understand those sounds and know exactly what
trick Jamal did, then you would be a master. But
if you're like me and can't understand those
sounds, I'll tell you what he did. I only know
'cause I was right there watching. First he
absorbed the transition going up, then he clacked
backside off the top and drifted six feet across
the bank and boom to tail, so smooth, schwoom
down the tight tranny and ta ta ta ta the sound of
the bricks as he came closer to where me and all
the other skaters were.
"Damn, Jamal! Woo! Sick! Yeah!"
Next to approach the bank was Hefty.
Hefty's oldschool but he's always down and
knows how to keep a positive flow going. He
approached the bank slow but not too slow.
His arms were pitched out away from his
sides. His hands were in two tight fists. It
looked as though he was headed towards the
bank to beat it up with the amount of speed
he had, and the way he was approaching it I
thought he was gonna be going for a tough
grind or an
grab frontsider.
early
Like I said, he's oldschool but when
I was two to three feet from the
a piece of glass and slammed
it. Hefty ain't the smallest guy
swear to God, the fucker must
IN
A BACKWORDS
WORLD
FIGHTING
FOR
WHAT
WE BELIVE
he
bank he hit
right into
either. I
I have loos-
гязаяводат гэнт и q
Warning: Material may not be suitable for your child. Parental guidance suggested.
ened up some bricks or bruised some tissue.
Pedro skated up fast.
"You OK, Hefty?"
"Get the fuck off," Hefty said. Most of the guys
laughed. Nobody was going. I looked to see if
Keykay or Jamal was going, but they weren't.
They signaled me to go. I started up as I began to
approach the bank. I kept looking down. Shit,
after what happened to Hefty I wanted to make
sure my board didn't come to any complete stops
and toss me into the
bank. My shit is
scrawny as fuck and I
might not be able to
handle that impact. But
I couldn't be too con-
cerned. Otherwise I'd
get to the bank and not
know what to do. So I
watched for glass,
approached the bank
with medium speed,
and popped a warm-up
size ollie to pivot. But
on my way in I jumped
off 'cause my weight
was too far behind, and
I
if I tried to stay on
might have fallen back
and used my hands to
protect myself and cut
them on the glass. It's
see if any of the other guys would be coming.
First I saw Hefty walking towards me without his
board. Fuck, I thought, he must have gotten
jacked bad, 'cause it looked as though he was
walking with a limp. But when he got up close I
realized that he was missing a shoe.
"You OK?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he said. Hefty's got meat plus muscle,
so if they jacked him he must have also jacked
them a little and I wanted to hear about it.
Col. Colt's London Factory at Pimlico, near Vauxhall Bridge, 1853-1857.
funny-after I picked up my board and walked
towards where the guys were starting off from, I
kept thinking this is the type of area where you
don't want to get hurt or draw too much atten-
tion to yourself. Keykay pushed towards the bank
with a tough looking stride. I was smiling 'cause
I like toughness. I was wondering what trick he
was gonna be trying, but as he got closer to the
bank, it was obvious he wasn't headed for the
bank. My eyes followed him as he hurried past
the bank and into the small park that was behind
the bank.
"Hey, fuckers," Keykay screamed. "Get off
of him!"
I ran over to scope the action. Hell, just about
all of us did. We wanted to see what was going
on. About four of these little guys were knocking
this one kid around for his Air Jordans. Keykay
must have seen what was happening and felt like
the Good Samaritan. But trip out on what hap-
pened next: The kid that got his Nikes back put
them on and thanked Keykay. Most of the other
guys went back to
to skating. They thought it was
over. I did too, but the kid that got his shoes back
knocked Keykay in the head when he was turned
around. The other little guys came out of from
God knows where, screaming, "Look! Those are
them skate tennies! Get his DCs, yo!"
I was scrambling. Not one of these small fries
was bigger than five feet, but they had rocks in
their socks and were swinging them and chasing
after us skaters like wild Indians. I tore the fuck
out of there. I waited five blocks away towards
the direction of where we lived and waited to
So I asked, "What did they do to you?"
"Not much. They got one of my shoes. I socked
one in the face. I think I broke the little guy's nose
and busted his teeth out."
"Shit," I said. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," he said. "The punk started hollering,
then I was surrounded by some rough customers.
I was lucky to have gotten out of there alive."
"Did the cops show up?"
"No," Hefty said.
"Where's Keykay?" I asked.
"He's coming. His head's bleeding."
"What about the others?" Hefty seemed mad.
and didn't want to talk about it, so I stayed
quiet. Soon Keykay showed up. I asked him
what happened.
He said, "All kinds of people were chucking
bottles and shit at us, screaming. 'Don't come
back here!' I guess that skate spot will be off lim-
its for a while."
"Where's Jamal and Pedro and the others?"
"They went the other way."
We stayed standing there for a while. Then a
police car showed up and let Jamal and Pedro
out. Both of them got lucky. They still had their
boards. The police told us not to go in that area
unless
we wanted to get killed.
"But it's a good skate spot," Hefty disputed.
The cop on the far side said, "Take your
chances, then."
"Oh yeah," Hefty said. "We will."
The cops must have gotten a call 'cause they
drove off with their lights flashing.
S
DYNAMO
was
koop skated all day and all night, practicing.
almost as if someday he would be going out
for a gold medal. When Skoop turned 18
years old, one of his big dreams finally
came true. He got sponsored. Skoop didn't get
sponsored because he was naturally good and tal-
ented at skating. He got sponsored because he was
always around overexerting himself, pushing the
limits of uncoordinatedness. Skoop's teammates
knew that Skoop had no natural talent, and soon
talk of kicking Skoop off the team went around.
But one guy that was somewhat close to Skoop,
Peebody, begged them not to kick Skoop off. The
only reason Peebody didn't want Skoop off the
team was because once Skoop was kicked off,
Peebody
would be the worst on the team. Then he
would be next to go. So Peebody begged the team
to keep Skoop on, but the team did not want Skoop.
They decided to take a vote and everybody voted
to kick Skoop off except for Peebody,
Peebody begged the guys to give him time.
"He's been
practicing so hard. You're all gonna
be so surprised at all the new tricks that Skoop
has learned."
The guys on the team didn't give a fuck how
many tricks Skoop learned. He was off the team.
So after a long day of hard, strenuous skating,
Skoop showed up at the factory so he could get a
new board and some wheels and things. Skoop.
was totally relaxed. He had no idea he was gonna
get kicked off. He strolled into the building with a
nice cool stride.
"Hello, Devo," Skoop said.
"Oh hey Skoop," Devo answered. Devo was
the team manager, a punkskate that the whole
team loved because he knew how to pretend
like he didn't care about anything.
"Is it cool if I get some shit?" Skoop asked.
Devo got quiet and then said in a low voice,
"Hey listen, Skoop. Why don't we go into my
office and talk first?"
A confused look came over Skoop's face, but he
wasn't gonna say no, so he was quiet and followed
through the warehouse and into Devo's office. All
over the walls were posters of skaters and punkers.
The punks were people that understood that the
system sucked. Most of the skaters were older
ones from the past-not to say that they weren't
good. Most of them were great skaters with large
amounts of natural ability although all the tricks
were old. And Skoop could do just about any of
them. But Skoop did not understand that just
because he was able to do the same tricks, that did
not mean that he was as good as them. It would not
be with the same effortless style. That's what was
wrong with Skoop. He couldn't understand this.
"So, Skoop," Devo said.
Skoop looked uneasy. "Yeah?"
"You do a lot of skating with Peebody,
don't you?"
"Yeah,"
"Skoop said.
Devo began playing with a fingerboard to make
the conversation less stressful. Skoop's mind was
racing. What could Peebody have told Devo? That
he had stolen and sold some boards from the ware-
house? No, because Skoop's parents were good,
God-fearing people that taught him not to steal.
What then? Maybe Peebody had simply told Devo
that Skoop wasn't any good and that he shouldn't
be sponsored. Skoop decided in his mind that that
was probably it. Devo played with his fingerboard
and talked at the same time.
"Well, Skoop, most of the team has decided that
you're gonna have to learn how to pick it up a bit."
"Pick it up?" Skoop said. His voice was raised.
This made Devo feel like he didn't care.
"OK, Skoop, you're off the team. You're done
as of now. You're no longer allowed to get any
more shit."
Skoop started to cry. Devo didn't know how hard
Skoop worked at trying to be top-notch. Skoop
looked down at his wristguard that he wore even
while not skating so it would feel more natural
when he did skate. This was sadness from up high.
Skoop sniffled.
Devo wasn't stupid. He could tell Skoop was
crying. "Don't you go crying in my office," Devo
said. "Come on, Skoop, don't be a pussy. Take it
like a man."
Skoop's tears dried up and then Skoop asked
Devo if Peebody wanted him off the team as well.
Devo lied and said yes because that was the type of
shit he did. Skoop, surprised, began to cry once
again. Devo offered Skoop some tissue.
"Man, Skoop, I'm sorry, dude." Devo.
was trying to counsel. "You know
I'm down for the way you skate.".
"Yeah," Skoop said. "I know
you're down for the way I skate,
Devo. That's why I'm off
the team.
For Sam Spiegel and
the kids in Memphis.
Big ups to T-10,
Malik, and the
skaters
Lyon.
I DON'T
LIKE
Le réveil des Ouïghours
Au nom de la lutte contre le colonialisme
basculé dans la violence. La semaine dernière trois bombes not explosé à Ural, la capitale, faisant
la région autonome nighure du Xinjianga
IM JUST STRU
GOOD DOPE.
OUT ON SOME
is
RONG