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GLINT


xtreme makeover: 08.09.04

This past Saturday morning found me having one of those “getting to know you” conversations with someone that involved a brief discussion of sundry professional sports and varying levels of interest in them. After 20 minutes, I declared, “This is the longest conversation I’ve ever had about sports.” And it was true. Because I generally don’t care about professional sports whatsoever. But what a difference a day makes. Because, come Sunday, I was ready to give the professional sports conversation a real work out—I was ready to discuss until my pulse quickened, until I actually felt short of breath, until I felt spent. You see, I had watched the X Games.

Certainly back in the day, I always had a healthy infatuation with skate punks. This matured into respectable crushes on hardcore off-road bikers I somehow always found myself meeting. But then I had to give up on them. Because after I broke my knee in a failed attempt to ride with the rough boys and girls, I had to let all that fascination dissipate. (I KNOW it’s wrong but I always think of ‘Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee’ at this juncture which I KNOW is completely tasteless. I ‘m SORRY.) In the months on crutches following my ‘accident,’ I decided that I didn’t much like hanging out with people who continued to tell pulse-racing stories of their lastest feat. I decided I wanted to hit them with my crutches until they shut up because it made me feel so lousy (sheepish, jealous, you name it). Responsibly, I stopped doing anything out of the ordinary on a bike. Of course, several years later just as I was starting to think longingly of ditches and dirt again, I broke my knee. The same one.

But oh. The X Games were awesome. Well, at least the bmx-ers and skaters were awesome. I found myself completely unable to turn the TV off. And I knew I was still missing the adrenaline rushes and the completely deserved, bad-ass feeling of self-respect that comes with meeting up with your pals and tricking out with your bike for an afternoon. Not that I was ever anywhere close to the level these guys are on, you understand. It’s like watching Mary Lou when you were 10 years-old and knowing your vaults work only because your gymnastics coach catches you and practically throws you over the damn thing. Yes, I always excelled at sport. Which is probably why those less formal athletic pursuits appealed to me so much.

But make no mistake! Physical prowess is a definite requirement no matter how fringe your sport of choice is. I am a nice example of that. Even better are the break dancers who I caught again in Dupont on Sunday night. After taking a nice, staid bike ride around town, I spent quite a while marveling at this group of fellows who merge strength, grace, and a most excellent street style so seamlessly. Those rotating arm stands totally kill me. I felt a little bit like Paris Hilton as I could only muster a slack-jawed stare and think “that’s hot,” over and over again.

Anyhow, Corey Bohan is my new hero and you’ll still never catch me in a sports bar.


reflect - reinvent ....rayclaire@gmail.com... what i used to think... what i hear... what i see... where i'd like to be...


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