HOW TO AVOID THE XGAMES
“Whoa! What are you doing here?”
“This is the last place I’d expect to see you!”
“Suck a butt kook.”
These are the things people said to me at the XGames. Yes, I went to the XGames. Kind of. Why? Because Red Bull paid me to. In hindsight, I’m not sure if it was worth it.
Nieratko’s got that energy drink company wrapped around his little finger. They sponsored his book tour, and essentially bank rolled the whole thing. They even flew him and his wife to Hawaii to do a reading at some dinky skate shop in Maui. He told them that the skate shop determines what America reads the next year.
So they asked Nieratko if he would cover the XGames for their Red Bulletin magazine thingy. Which is basically an insert in other magazines. Apparently they’ve been printing ‘em out at F1 races. They go to an F1 race, cover it, and then they have a mobile printer (it’s like a printing press in a truck, I understand?) which prints out a magazine every night. And they decided they wanted to do one for the XGames which will appear in either Happy magazine or Blisss magazine. Niether of which I’ve ever heard of, nor do I care. But Nieratko asked if I wanted help and the money wasn’t bad. Plus I want a flat screen over my fireplace.
I knew it would be bad, but I didn’t think it would be as bad as it was. And yes I was there when Jake Brown fell down and went BOOM! More on that in a minute. But aside from one lousy day at the ‘Po (that’s what we started calling the Home Depot Center where the games were held), I spent most of my time avoiding going to the XGames. Which was fine, because that’s the kind of stories these Red Bull fellas were interested in. “Taking the piss out of the XGames,” they kept saying. They, the magazine people, were English. They lived in a windowless bunker on the fourth floor of The Standard Hotel in downtown LA. Which was where we were all staying at. It felt weird packing a bag to go stay at a hotel that is, at worst, ten minutes from my house.
So instead of attending the XGames, I wiled away my time at the Standard.
getting drunk in the rooftop pool.
hanging out with the hot bitches at the pool.
and watching real sports like NASCAR in bed.
There were a lot of douche bags at the XGames. I’m actually really disappointed that I didn’t spend more time documenting them. In fact I didn’t document them at all. At the time I was so revolted by them, that I didn’t think to take pictures of them. But you know that FMX (freestyle motorcross…took me forever to figure that out), Orange County kind of look? Lots of tattoos, faggy sunglasses, faggy hair and Monster Energy drink hats. If they were wearing a shirt, it was a wife beater. There were millions of them there. Just a sea of Rick Thornes.
I did take a picture of one of their vehicles, though. When I see anything this audacious on the road, the first thing I say is, “Sorry about your dick.” Any amateur psychologist will tell you that this is a penis issue. It is the result of having a little penis. And judging by the sheer number of these monsters in the parking lot, there were a lot of little dicks at the XGames. And if you don’t think this has anything to do with the owner’s penis, then why is there a scrotum hanging off the back of it?
THE EXCLUSIVE ATHLETE LOUNGE
I still get all giddy when Hosoi recognizes me. I got him to pose with Desiree Astorga and ole ever ready Eddie Reautegui.
As with every XGames I've had the displeasure of attending, I am not allowed to go anywhere. I never have the right pass for anything. I get to go in for free, but my passes never seem to get me anywhere anybody else can go. I didn’t have an “athlete’s lounge” pass apparently. Everyone else did, though. And that’s where they hung out. There was free Taco Bell in the athlete’s lounge. And it wasn’t normal Taco Bell. This was Tony Hawk Taco Bell. I had some. It was good. I was able to finagle my way in a couple times. “Nope,” they’d say. “Come on,” I’d whine, “I don’t even want to be here. I could give a shit about the athlete’s lounge, I’m just trying to find my ride home. Just let me look and see if he’s in there.” “Oh, alright.” Brian Patch complimented me on my verbal judo skills. “Jesus,” he said, “you’re good, because they don’t let anyone in here.”
And they shouldn’t, it’s like heaven in there. Famous people milling about, free Taco Bell, free pasta salad, a pool table…can you say “awesome.” They even got a secret golf course in a dark room in the corner. I found Dave “DUI” Duncan playing a round of golf. Dagger my ass. Daggers don’t need blankets and they sure as hell don’t play golf. I thought that was in the rules?
Blogging takes too long. You'll have to wait til the next post to read my inside take on the mega ramp business and to see the Swedish board game that Matthias Ringstrom created.