Growing up in rural Iowa in the early 1980s, I was really into superheroes. I ran around the farmstead where I lived imagining super powers for myself and using them to defeat invisible bad guys. Around fourth grade I discovered Marvel comic books through a classmate, and soon couldn’t get enough of them. J.J. had inherited piles of 1970s era comic books from his older brothers that he doled out to three or four of us at school. I would sometimes sleep over at J.J.’s house over the weekends, where he would grab stacks of magazines from his brothers’ bedrooms for me to pick and choose from. Amongst the comic books were other magazines from the same era, including Mad (which I didn’t understand at all), Rolling Stone (which I had been led to believe was Satanic) and Skateboarder. The only thing I knew about skateboarding was that it had been invented by Marty McFly. Flipping through the pages of Skateboarder to see what it was all about, I came across this picture:
I was enthralled and confused. Somehow, this wasn’t a picture of a kid falling down. It was only after imagining the photo as a comic book drawing that I realized I’d seen that pose before- from Spider-Man. The incidental old man seemingly sinking into the pavement in the distance provided the perfect contrast to this death-defying kid. The only photograph I had seen with this combination of grace, skill and determination was a poster of Dr. J our principal had hanging in his office. I had to find out who this person was.
The picture was from a series of articles by Craig Stecyk III about a group of skateboarders in southern California called the Z-Boys. Stecyk was the graphic artist at Zephr surfboard shop, which was located in the rough slums of South Santa Monica known as Dogtown. Instead of rainbows and sun rays, Stecyk put graffiti-influenced designs onto surfboards handmade by Jeff Ho and sold them to the hoodlums from both South Santa Monica and Venice who surfed a cove containing the remains of an abandoned amusement park and frequently broke their boards on the pier pylons they maneuvered through.
When the waves died down, some of the surfers practiced their surf moves on skateboards. The owners of the shop promoted themselves by organizing first a surfing team and, in 1974, a skateboard team, to participate in competitions. Skip Engblom, co-owner of the Zephyr shop, set up a practice schedule for the members to follow. They slalomed down a street near the shop, skated at local school playgrounds with sloping concrete banks and in whatever abandoned and empty swimming pools they could find around town.
The signature style of the Z-Boys, as the skateboarders on Zephr Skate Team were called, was to emulate surfers by staying crouched low to the ground; not shying away from touching it. Stacy Peralta and Tony Alva would eventually move on from this group to become the first famous skateboarders. Although their hand dragging style did not ever wholly catch on, the Z-Boys changed the focus of the sport toward riding bowls, performing vertical jumps (Alva is generally credited with completing the first aerial) and street skating. Beyond these seminal contributions, there was one other essential thing that transformed the hobby of skateboarding into a multi-billion dollar industry, and that contribution came not from Peralta or Alva but rather another one of the original Z-Boys- Jay Adams.
Skateboarding had been a fad in the early ‘60s, but the thrill of standing on a piece of wood with wheels attached had quickly worn off, especially after parents started organizing to ban skateboards for being dangerous. But in 1973, a new type of wheel was invented that greatly increased the skateboard’s maneuverability and durability, and because of that, by 1975, growing interest had convinced organizers to hold the first national skateboarding competition of that decade. The chosen location for the event was in Del Mar, California, conveniently located just two hours from Dogtown.
Freestyle refers to skateboarding on flat ground. The Z-Boys didn’t do freestyle. Today, nobody except Rodney Mullen does freestyle, and even he mostly does street skating now. Back then, freestyle skateboarding was nothing other than a gymnastics routine with a prop, like what gymnasts still do today with ribbons, rubber balls and hula hoops. At Del Mar, freestyle was not only the main event, but the only event other than downhill slalom.
In 1975, Jay Adams was fourteen years-old but small enough to pass for younger. Like many of the other Z-Boys, he had flowing blonde hair. He was the first of the Z-Boys to compete, doing freestyle. The Zephyr Skate Team wore matching outfits, so everyone in attendance expected him to set the tone for the entire team. The first thing he did was ride his board across the platform at top speed and then slide by planting his hands behind him to keep from flying off the edge. The Z-Boys called this a “Bert,” which they had named after surfer Larry Bertlemann, who would often run his hands in the water as he surfed and was the biggest stylistic influence on the Z-Boys. Of course, nobody outside of the team would have even considered this a trick.
Then, in what was presumably an attempt to emulate something he had just seen from another competitor, he tried standing up straight while riding backward on one end of the board- and promptly fell on his ass.
At this point, the cameraman filming the event for posterity actually turns away in disappointment… but Jay Adams gets back on the board and skates backwards again- this time his way. Crouched down, he grabs the board on either side and angrily hops up and down.
And with that outburst, skateboarding is changed forever.
It is the perfect embodiment of the old way of skateboarding being replaced. Because it is so completely unintentional, it is beyond what anybody could have scripted. For the rest of the brief routine, he stays so close to the ground it’s difficult to differentiate whether he’s sliding on the board or on the ground- in actuality he’s simultaneously doing a little of both. He ends by jumping off the end of the platform.
Jay Adams had dared to thrust aggression into a sport where simply demonstrating balance and acrobatic prowess had been the only point. Suddenly, skateboarding had attitude, and not just any attitude- it had Jay Adam’s attitude. Whereas Peralta was a mild-mannered and disciplined pretty boy and Alva came across as a self-centered prick, being a skateboarder would come to mean being raw, brazen, authentic, flawed and stubbornly determined regardless of ability or success. Adams was comparable to Janis Joplin or John Coltrane in not overtly seeking to innovate but doing so anyway by being obsessed with finding their voice. But if you’re going to compare him to a musician, it would surely be Iggy Pop, whose band The Stooges had broken up the year before but whose legend and popularity were continuing to grow. Adams embodied, and because of him, skateboarding represented what would become known as punk.
The competitors other than the Z-Boys hated Jay’s performance. Adams wasn’t particularly thrilled by it either. His reaction to anybody else’s opinion about his skating tended to vacillate between anger, indifference and disgust, which was proof that he was not a caricature, persona or act. He probably decided right then that competitive skateboarding was bullshit.
After Del Mar, sponsors came crawling out of the woodwork to capitalize on the allure of the Z-Boys, and the Zephyr Skate Team soon dissolved as the members ran after money and fame. Adams didn’t go anywhere, but instead became part of a team organized by his abusive step-father. The next few decades would not be good ones for Adams.
The Bones Brigade videos would herald a new preferred media for being able to watch skateboarders from afar, but there really was something special about imagining what might be possible from trying to decipher a still photo. There are three photographs from my childhood that even as an adult my mind wanders back to: a National Geographic cover of a Afghan woman with haunted green eyes, a lone man standing in front of a row of tanks at Tiananmen Square and Jay Adams slaloming down a hill.
Well, that’s sort of true. When I was in high school, I went searching for the picture of Jay Adams that had inspired me so many years prior, and found this one instead:
Now, I think of both photographs like one of those holograms where you see different poses when you look at it from different angles.
For those of you still wondering what’s the big deal about some rebellious kid bouncing up and down on a skateboard, let me try and frame it another way. Without Jay Adams, this picture certainly wouldn’t have the same connotations, and probably wouldn’t even exist:
Jay Adams: Born, February 3, 1961; Died, August 15, 2014
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