"Most people who know me personally know I skate. I don’t get out as often as I used to, but I still try when I find the time. I started back in sixth grade—I still remember my first board was a Sims with blue Bullet wheels. One thing I learned fast is the mutual respect between skaters. Most of the guys I skated with—I won’t say all, because there were definitely some a-holes, as with anything—would look out for and help anyone who wasn't as good as them. I’ll be the first to admit there were tricks I only figured out because a fellow skater took the time to show me, and vice-versa.
I remember back in the day, I’d never skated a bowl properly. Jeff Phillips Skatepark had just opened up. I didn’t know Jeff yet, but during a 'lock-in'—where they’d basically lock us kids in overnight to skate—Jeff saw me struggling. I couldn’t quite figure out how to carve the corners. After a few pointers from him, I was carving with the best of them, even rail-sliding the entire end of the bowl.
But like I said, you’d get the occasional a-hole: some guy who’d lose it on a kid who was just starting out and didn't know the etiquette yet—taking too long to get off the ramp, 'snaking' someone’s line, or accidentally running into people. I’ll admit, sometimes the anger was warranted, especially when someone’s inexperience was actually dangerous. No one got violent, but there was a lot of yelling. Usually, it’d start with, 'Hey, wait your turn!' but if they didn’t listen, someone ended up getting hurt. I’d be lying if I said I didn't lose my cool sometimes, too, but I always tried to help where I could. Sometimes you have to figure it out yourself, but for most people, a little guidance goes a long way. The kids who actually listened gained the most; I know it worked for me.
A few years later, Jeff started letting bikers and rollerbladers in. Man, that was a whole other can of worms. I remember a biker on the spine losing it—his bike went flying and almost took out everyone on the deck. It tumbled down the transition and the pedal just shredded the Masonite. Back then, the different crowds rarely mixed well. At least from my perspective, it felt that way. But that’s a different story; I’m getting off track.
Most skaters were supportive, which is how it should be. Why wouldn’t you be? You’re into the same thing. Every skater learns from the next one. You should always try to help the people who aren't quite there yet. It reminds me of something from about ten years ago: my son and I were skating a free city park in Dallas. It was made of that weatherproof material—the name escapes me, but you know the stuff.
We were hitting the mini ramp. I got on the deck and waited my turn. There was this little kid there, maybe eight or ten. He’d put his board on the coping, then take it off. Put it on, take it off. He looked scared shitless, but he clearly wanted to do it. We were like, 'Just go for it, little dude! If you fall, just get back up. That’s how you learn. It won’t hurt forever. You got this.' He backed off, stood back, and said, 'You can go.'
So I started talking to him, walking him through the drop-in. 'Put this foot here, this one here, and lean forward. But not too much—just balance it out.' I told him, 'Watch, just like this.' I dropped in fast, grinded almost the entire mini, came back the other side, and grinded that too. But as I was coming back down the transition, my board fishtailed. I flew the entire length of the flat and drilled my elbow right into the other transition. I jumped up immediately, hopped back on my board, and finished. I waited on the deck with my elbow hurting like a mofo—though I didn't tell him that.
My son and I watched as the kid put his board back on the coping, thought for literally a second, and dropped in. The look on that kid’s face? Absolutely priceless. It made the whole thing worth it. Afterward, I looked at the spot where I fishtailed. Turns out some kids before us had sprayed something on the coping and it had dripped down the ramp. I thought my elbow was just bruised, so I didn't go to the doctor right away. A week later, the bruising started spreading. Long story short: I’d broken it.
Even though it hurt like hell, it gave that kid the confidence to do something he was terrified to try, which is awesome. Does he still skate? Who knows. Will he remember it? No idea. I know I will. Long story short: always try to help people. Will it change the world? Hell no. But we all need a boost of confidence once in a while. Now get out there and skate."
