Ready For My Close-Up
Ready For My Close-Up: Rumble In Ramona II
by Darren Navarrette | Photos: Rhino
This year’s Rumble was just that: a fucking rumble. A rumble of vert. Vert’s not cool and we know it—that’s exactly why we do this. The Dew Tour? The X-Games? Why are these contests considered lame? Maybe it’s the lack of individuality; everyone seems to do the same maneuvers. Maybe it’s the judges? I’m not quite sure. Maybe it’s the lack of beer? Ever notice things seem better when you’re buzzed?
Let’s get back on track. This year, the turnout was doubled. We lost some troops from last year but ended up with plenty of characters to fill the void. Chris Livingston stayed all week. Mike Frazier came out from Florida a week early to ride with us, and let me say, it was a fucking pleasure watching this man skate. Max Schaaf, as always, didn’t disappoint—best style hands down. Mike Crum made it out and demanded red carpet treatment. Lance Mountain tore it up. Grosso was there. Salba and Malba were also ripping.
Partanen, lien air. Photo: Rhino
Host and overlord Navs 'Drechts an Elgero. Photo: Rhino
Minnesota showed up. Dave LeRoux, the original switch vert, was in attendance and in full cruise control. Justin Lynch ripped the lip with things you just don’t see. This is what I’m talking about: individuality. Different approaches, different tricks, different styles. Let’s not forget Donald Dietrich, straight out of lockdown to straight locking it down! Hosoi, absolutely one of a kind with flawless style. And talk about one of a kind, Red was there ripping everything in his way—the ramp, the drums, someone’s iPod, everything. Straight hellion! The Hell’s Angels showed up and made sure no one got out of line, and the Bean Bandits had all their muscle there. As far as a winner, everybody wins… Well, that’s not exactly true. Some people were escorted out due to the simple fact that it wasn’t a free-for-all. This was an invite-only situation. We don’t get invited to your things and you don’t get invited to ours, it’s that simple. Maybe next time try and contact someone first. But if one man did deserve to win, I would say Lincoln Ueda. He completely bagged the Dew Tour to come and ride with us, and we thank him for his way-overhead assault.
Hosoi and Indy go way back. Photo: Rhino
That about covers it. Sure, there were some skirmishes, but that’s nothing to talk about. Thanks to all the bands, Vans, Iron Fist clothing, Independent, Spitfire, Loser Machine, Creature, and Thrasher for making this all happen. Maybe we’ll see you next year. Just remember, if you show up, you better be ready to rumble.
Florida's own UFC champ, Mike Frazier, back lip to fakie over the onion. Photo: Rhino
1. BYOB or $1 beers. No corporate moneymakers here
2. Lance Dawes took his camera out of the bag
3. Steve Van Doren cooked and served 400 free burgers
4. Steve Berra showed up to get a tan. There’s no sun at the Berrics
5. Salba did do pushups on the deck, not the coping
Stations of the Salba
6. Tom Remillard learned frontside inverts
7. Cookiehead got to skate this year
8. Ben Raybourn broke his wrist after padding up
9. No, Hewitt didn’t skate on Saturday. So stop asking
10. Don’t show up if you aren’t invited
Tom Remillard, stalefish
Highest air: Lincoln Ueda
Brazil's Hosoi, Lincoln Ueda, tosses a sockless one-foot TG. Photo: Rhino
Highest to disaster: Chris Livingston
Longest stalled invert: Mike Crum
Mike Crum, invert
Best invert variation: Navarrette
Ben Schroeder award: Ben Schroeder
Best ollie: Remy Stratton and Mike Crum
Plant your foot: Lance Mountain, Mike Frazier
Phillips Award: No 66’s, but two Texans— Crum and Raybourn
Best from the East: Frazier
Mike Frazier, frontside bluntslide
Best from the Midwest: Justin Lynch
Best from the West: Max Schaaf
Distance: Lincoln Ueda
Lincoln Ueda, backside stalefish
Whatever Grosso wants: Eric Nash
Nollage: Dave LeRoux
Biggest thorn in my side: Mike Crum
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