- November 27, 2024
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Up, down, right-C. My muscle memory and mental outline of the Warehouse level on the original Tony Hawk Video Game for Nintendo 64 is either pathetic or prodigious, depending on how you lean.
Gosh, how to count the Christ Airs, McTwists, and Triple Kickflips — all performed from the relative comfort of my childhood bedroom. Tony Hawk wasn’t just a game — it was a way of life. The soundtrack could have stood on its own merits: “Superman” by Goldfinger is ska done “just right.” The game also features tracks by the Suicide Machines and The Vandals.
It’s no wonder, then, why an entire generation of suburban preteens took to the streets and malls of America masquerading as miniature Andrew Reynoldses and Kareem Campbells (not sure if either of those guys even skate anymore). For a few years around the turn of the millennium, I was among that number. My best friends Ricky and Andrew and I had a pop-punk band, Hero For Hire. We practiced in Andrew’s garage, and, upon outgrowing that trope — moved our cabs and high hats down to the basement.
Much like the three ‘tweens I met and interviewed at the Ormond Beach Skate Park on Sunday, we lived for summer. We’d play S.K.A.T.E (a punk-friendly version of the game H.O.R.S.E) behind a local supermarket. We’d ollie off the concrete loading dock and pretend it was our own street course. None of us were very good, but we loved to skate.
Neither was the Ormond trio. Only one of the three could ollie, and honestly, his back truck may not have broken from the pavement. But that didn’t matter. As I interviewed them about why they liked skateboarding, a commonality emerged in the answers. “It’s entertaining.” “It’s not boring.” “I wanted to try the moves I do on Skate 3,” (a contemporary skateboarding video game). They were all rising 8th graders. I remember that time. You desperately want to fit in, find your place. And for me and friends a decade ago, and for Quanterrous and the Ormond bunch now, a set of 52 mm skateboard wheels can help get you there.
Very few teens keep up with skateboarding when they reach adulthood. My Girl deck with the Destructo trucks and Reds bearings sits gathering cobwebs in my parents’ garage, proving that point.
But even when you “grow up,” you don’t forget what it was like to skate. You just don’t. And sometimes, you can go back to that happy place/time where you and your buddy jam the ultramarine blue cartridge into the machine, dial up “trick attack,” and button-mash a backflip over the first halfpipe you see.
