Boarder wars
Part 4
by Yvonne Abraham
Which raises the issue of how to satisfy these competing interests.
The city has proposed a skateboard park in East Boston, to be managed by the
Boston Community Centers (BCC). Next year's capital budget earmarks $100,000
for the project, which will be located on a site the Harborside Community
Center shares with the Yumana/ Barnes Middle School. It will be the city's
first public skateboard park. (There is a private park, called Maximus, in
Cambridge, but the entry fee is $10, and skaters complain it's too crowded, and
too intimidating for younger kids, with as many as 50 skaters there at any one
time.)
Right now the BCC is collecting planning ideas from other cities -- for
instance, New York, where Riverside Skate Park was recently built on the edge
of the residential Upper West Side. That park, now open a year, has a staff,
provides training for skaters, and is "a phenomenal success," according to BCC
deputy director Charles Clabaugh, who is heading the skateboard-park project.
Mike Bell, Harvey Bierman, and other skaters also want in on the planning
process, before it's too late. But even though Liff and Clabaugh say they're
happy to involve skaters in the park's development, Bierman says he heard
nothing about the project until he went down to City Hall for the hearing. "I
want to start a committee of skateboarders to help design that park," says
Bell. "If the city spends $100,000 and it's bad, that's a big waste of money."
Liff has been also been tossing around another idea that might work: a kind of
moveable summer skateboard park, where certain city streets would be closed off
on particular days, with ramps and loops brought in for skaters to use --
something for the public to watch, "like a traveling circus." But that kind of
thing could take a decade to pull off.
Of course, even if East Boston turns out to be a dream park, some skaters will
still prefer Copley Square. "People go to Copley because of where it's
located," Bell says. "It's not stuck out in the middle of nowhere. It's a
social scene."
And there are logistical considerations. "It's got to be convenient," Bierman
says. "We suggested other areas for parks -- the Fenway, the Esplanade, Roxbury
-- but again, that won't stop people from skating in Copley and those areas.
You'll always find kids who love to go into Boston and skate. It's a great day
trip for them."
And so, kids will always get busted. But then again, the threat of getting
busted is itself an important part of skateboard culture's cachet. Magazines
like Thrasher are full of skaters' tales of getting caught. Ratings of
skate spots take "bustability" into account. Despite the corporate embrace in
which skateboarding is increasingly held, it is still on the fringe, still for
renegades.
And indeed, that's just the quality that seems to intrigue corporate marketing
departments. For a few years now, ESPN has been making buckets of money from
its Extreme Games, which include skateboarding, garnering itself some serious
cred in the process. Mainstream America is catching on as well. The latest J.
Crew catalogue makes preppy seem Young 'n' Hip by putting models in too-big
clothes on skateboards.
And Nike, which is set to completely swallow the skateboard shoe market in
coming years, has gone at skaters head on, with a new advertising campaign
championing their rights.
"What if we treated all athletes the way we treat skateboarders?" three
different national TV advertisements ask. In the tennis ad, a cop busts a
doubles games on a hard court. ("We're not from around here," two players
plead, as they try to scramble away over a fence. "We got a coupla monkeys!"
says the cop.) The golf and running spots play on the same theme, with innocent
athletes getting busted for just doing their thing. In ads, at least, Nike
unequivocally sides with the skateboarder against the fuddy-duddy
establishment.
Skateboarders mostly agree that the Nike campaign will be good for their
sport, raising public awareness of their woes. Mike Bell hopes it will lead to
more skateboard parks. Harvey Bierman is a little more cynical. "ESPN and
Mountain Dew and Nike are becoming promoters of the sport, and making it
available to people. Stores like Blades didn't exist 10 years ago," he says.
"Nike, especially, is talking a big game."
But Nike's talk has been confined largely to advertising; they're not going
anywhere near Boston's political controversy.
"We don't take a stance," says Nike's outdoor-division spokesperson Vizhier
Corpuz. "We respect both points of view. From the athlete's side, it's
certainly an issue of freedom, and from the city's side, it's an issue of
safety. Our campaign points out that these are in fact athletes, and that it's
important to show a little bit of respect for the sport."
Nike's antiestablishment edge isn't quite so razor sharp in real life, though.
"They don't seem to be standing behind their ads, in Boston," Bierman says. He
and other skateboard advocates learned of the company's officially neutral
stance when they contacted Niketown's manager. When they tried to contact
corporate headquarters in Oregon, "We got the runaround."
Corpuz says Nike prefers to develop and refurbish skateboard parks rather than
take sides. But it's still too early even for that. The company's only been in
skateboard shoes for a little over two years.
Of course, for Nike, coming out against the ordinance would mean opposing the
very Back Bay advocacy groups whose favor it had to curry to get Niketown built
on Newbury Street, just steps away from Copley Square -- which places it in
something of a pickle. A multimillion-dollar sporting-goods company can only
get so close to the fringe, after all.
And if part of skateboarding's appeal is its outsider quality, there is only
so much City Hall can do. Travis Perrys and Ricky Greenwoods will always be
able to run from cops and skateboard somewhere else. "They try to catch us, but
they can't," says Perry. "We've got wheels. They don't."
Yvonne Abraham can be reached at yabraham[a]phx.com.