But these things—where you’re from, what you wear— factor in more than we want to admit. Skateboarding is very much about what is and who is cool, though we wince when we put it in those terms. We call it “style,” but that’s all style is—making something look cool, whether it’s an ollie up a curb or a frontside flip fakie 5-0 down a hubba. If it looks good, if it makes us want to do it, or something like it, it’s cool. If it looks like a dog shitting a peach pit, it’s not cool. We discuss this occurrence a bit, and it comes down to who you ride for and who you’re associated with. “It’s definitely a shortcut in a way,” Ryan says. “You ride for the right company and that’s your ticket in. That’s your street cred. You’re on the A-list already.”
“Whereas if you ride for another company, it can be the complete opposite,” I say. “Exactly,” Ryan returns. “A lot of those companies don’t even pay their riders because they don’t have to. Like you’re privileged just to ride for that company.” “And we are,” TJ adds as Ryan nods along. “Not everyone gets to do this, you know? But when you’re paying $3,500 just to get over here, then paying rent and everything else, your landlord’s not going to take street cred on the first of the month. ‘No it’s cool, I got this new tight sponsor, landlady, so you don’t need my rent.’” The $3,500 TJ is referencing is what it costs to get your P1 sports Visa in the United States. It basically lets you live down here as an athlete for five years without any worries of whether you’re going to be denied re-entry if and when you travel abroad. So I pose the question: “Do you think it’s the cost of the Visa that prevents so many Canadians from moving and trying to make it down here?”
switch 50-50 [o] joe krolick 70
nollie flip boardslide [o] joe krolick