Skate Anatomy: Skateboarding


Left side

Shot self in foot:
“I wasn’t too smart back in the day. All my friends used to tag and break shit at the spots we skated. Sometimes we’d break windows at the high school on weekends or even steal kids’ boards. All that shit ended up coming back at me, because after the cops got enough calls over bullshit like vandalism and thefts we couldn’t skate there anymore either.”


Lost tailbone, nosebone and missing ribs:
“I’m not 100 percent sure what year it was but at some point in the late ’80s I lost my tailbone, nosebone, and two ribs. They used to do a nice job protecting me. Now I go home every night with fresh scratches all over me because some retard decided I was too heavy for hardflips.”

Swollen pockets:
“Since my shoes hit the shelves and Hawk threw up the 900 I’ve had this severe case of swollen pockets. It’s kind of like hemorrhoids, they get itchier the bigger they get. When I hang out with friends, the first thing we do is size-up each other’s pockets. The big-business types can spot my swell from like a mile away. They wouldn’t even talk to me a couple years ago. Now they’re lining up to get their share.”
Bruised ego: “My ego was badly scarred in ’92. I don’t even remember how it started but the next thing I knew I was going to school in XXXL turquoise pants, neon orange shoes, and wearing a backward visor. The rest of the kids thought it was a joke until ravers decided I looked cool. I still get counseling for my low self-esteem. Children can be so cruel sometimes.”

Broken heart:
“For my fallen soldiers: Jeff Phillips, Sean Miller, Mike Cardona, Justin Pearce, Tim Brauch, Kit Erickson, Pat Brennan, Adam Spiro, Mike De Geus, Phil Shao, Ruben Orkin, Curtis Hsiang, and the brothers on lock-down—Hosoi, Jay Adams, Gator, Josh Swindell. I even lost Jason Lee to Hollywood.”

Limited mobility:
“A couple years back I couldn’t make it down the street without pushing nonstop. I tried to ignore it but eventually I had to get it checked out. Dr. Blackheart took one look at my 42mm wheels and started laughing like Dr. Hubert on “The Simpsons.” I told him they were better for backfoot flips. Since then, he’s been prescribing 55mm minimum and a
weekly check-up on bearing lube.”

Monkey on back:
“I’ve been carrying ‘action sports’ for four or five years now. Rollerblades, street luge, razor scooters, sky-dive snowboarding…they’re convinced they can write their own ticket. Every time the big events roll around they jump on my back like midget wrestlers. Someday I’m gonna toss these pissant games in a ditch.”

“I have this problem remembering things. I’ll go through the same phases over and over, like sleeveless T-shirts, leather jackets, and wall-rides…forgetting they ever happened before. I’ll forget my best friend if I don’t see him for a little while. One day we’re as tight as pool tranny…getting rich and living it up, the next he gets a knee injury and I forget I ever knew the guy.”

Iron lung:
“Skating in polluted urban wastelands has got my lungs looking like roasted marshmallows, and smoking trees probably won’t help Smokey Bear put the fire out. At this rate I’ll be breathing through a straw at 50.”

Near-death experience:
“In the early ’80s after the skateparks closed, it seemed like nobody cared what happened to me. I was lying on my deathbed, sharing a hospital room with the hula hoop. A couple hard-core fans kept me going and literally brought me back to life. Then, a decade of Brigade gluttony later, I got another call from the doctor saying I might need to come back in for a check-up. Twenty-five-dollar royalty checks and double pressure flips had caused wax build-up in my arteries. I almost died a second time.”

Right side

Shackled ankle:
“Society at large decided to slow my stride and put this ball and chain on me. Cops, business owners, and paranoid retirees have made sure I can’t even cruise down the sidewalk of my hometown without hearing these damn chains jingle.”
Callused right hand: “Lonely nights take their toll on virile young men. Whether out on tour, away from home, or just plain ugly, I spend a disproportionate amount of time with myself. Skateboarding is a one-man sport in more ways then one.” SB