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 would look out for and help anyone who wasn't as good as them. There were definitely some a-holes, as with anything, but 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—he 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.
Of course, you’d get the occasional gatekeeper: 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. 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. A little guidance goes a long way. The kids who actually listened gained the most; I know it worked for me.
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 fifteen or sixteen years ago: my son and I were skating a free city park in Dallas. It was made of that weatherproof Skatelite material. We were hitting the mini ramp, and I got on the deck to wait 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 tried cheering him on. "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. 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 bottom and drilled my elbow right into the opposite transition. I jumped up immediately, hopped back on my board, and finished the run. I waited back on the deck with my elbow hurting like a mofo—though I didn't let him see that.
My son and I watched as the kid put his board back on the coping, hesitated for literally a second, and dropped in. The look on that kid’s face? Absolutely priceless. It made the whole slam 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 fractured 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. But I will.
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.
