Stick This In Your Halfpipe And Smoke It

With a decade of shredding under my belt and having tuned into no more than ten hours or so of pipe contests during all these years, I took the opportunity to watch the Olympic pipe last night. Having been displaced from my usual central London lodgings during this time proved fortunate.

I had a stately suburban shred palace, some fine ale, a projector, and a hell of a lot of free time at my disposal. I also had the benefit of Britain’s state broadcaster and commercial-free coverage which, needless to say, is nowhere to be found in the United $tates.

I should admit before I get in too deep, that I was down for the count by the start of the finals. The ale itself, and having the permission to toss empty bottles on the already can-littered floor (the story of the simulated frat party and the disastrous dendex day after will have to wait), took its toll after six hours.  
Now, what could I possibly write that hasn’t been written already? I could trawl through the news stories and point out inconsistencies, misrepresentations of snowboarding and statements calling Shaun White the “inventor” of the double cork. But I’m both too hungover and too bored with the whole thing to go with that approach.

Don’t get me wrong, the shredding was sick at times, and I always like watching Louie Vito ride as I know firsthand from rail scouting and guiding experience (a particular Dayton, Ohio 50-odd-stair 50/50 FS 180 comes to mind) that he’s no one-trick pony. This was also the first time I had seen Iouri Podlatchkov shred a pipe and I was blown away. But as with many shreds, I like to watch that to which I can relate, and at the end of the day, either by lack of ability or lack of effort, I still struggle to relate to superpipes and back-to-back tens.

One of the most fulfilling aspects of this viewing experience came not when the pipe contest was on, but in between the second qualifying heat and the semifinals. We popped in the latest isenseven flick to wake us up and hasten the wait, and one of the housemates, a non-shredding chap, was in the unique position of having watched some of the Olympic pipe contest followed by its polar opposite, a real shred vid.

I asked this uninitiated fellow which one he preferred. “This one, of course,” he said, “but only because of the music!” I was deflated, but I’ll take a cause for optimism where I can get one, and this suggested that there is hope. I received further confirmation later when an Indian fellow-student with little prior knowledge of snowboarding asked if, like him, I had watched the contest. I confirmed and asked which shred he liked best. He said, “Kazuhiro Kakubo, man! That slow spin with the Japan grab. And he looked so relaxed and he was smiling, like he did not care man, he was just happy to be there.”

Having viewed some of the finals this morning with heavy eyelids and an insurmountable headache, I can’t say I’m too bummed I crashed out. What I will say though, and if you’ve made it this far the most important observation I have yet to offer, is that while Shaun White is clearly a superior pipe-rider, I think he missed an opportunity last night… Huh? Come again? Gasp! Shriek! ...

Don’t get me wrong, the double McTwist 12 is undoubtedly nasty, and it does push snowboarding, hard, in one direction. And we all, love him or hate him, recognize that Shaun is the most consistent pipe-rider on the planet. He didn’t need another show of force. What would have been better, both for snowboarding and certainly for him within it, would have been a reaffirmation of his love for shredding.

What do I mean, you ask? How about a massive switch method into a switch frontside air to kick it off, maybe a back 3 seatbelt, perhaps a back tail on the lip, an invert and a blunt. With corporate sponsors, the corporate media, and some fans screaming for “the Tomahawk”, Shaun had a chance to show the rest of the world what is great about snowboarding. Rather than a show of superiority, Shaun could have used his victory lap as a reaffirmation of his standing amongst snowboarders.

Now, if you think this is all a load of romanticists’ garbage, and being a rider for riding’s sake and all that jazz is a heady half-baked myth, say so and comment down below.

By Zach Sanford