It went kind of exactly like this
As the drudgery of Real Life keeps me from ruminating on things like the music in the new Flip video, I throw this one out to the Berrics-minded masses who have stuck with this second iteration of the Game of Skate through myriad substitutions, explanation-free delays and wholesale bending/breaking of the tattered rules sheet: what, then, do we make of Cory Kennedy’s swing-for-the-fences approach to this weekend’s matchup against Peter Ramondetta? To this viewer, the game was probably some type of watershed moment for the BATB series, in spirit if not in edge-of-your-seatness or whatever. Because, you had one contestant with everything to gain, wasting no time in his bid to roll his way into the semis and messageboard lionization; then you had another dude who’s more or less a veteran pro at this point, from the purportedly less dog-eat-dog zone of Northern California, who nevertheless was able to whip out a nollie frontside heelflip with an extra body varial upon command.
Andy of the Program zine described the nollie flip backside 360 opener thusly: “It’s like playing horse in basketball and taking your first shot from full court.”
Which is sort of true. But then again, if I’m watching a couple NBA types play a game of horse at my local playground, do I need to wait for them to each sink shots from the free-throw line and various three-pointers and lay-ups before they get to the zany shit? In his own way, Cory Kennedy’s showing consideration for my time, an increasingly precious commodity even after forgetting about Twitter yet again. In another way, he’s being more up-front about his skill level (and his view of the Berrics Battle) than he would by going the now-standard route of opening with a kickflip, 360 flip, fakie bigspin flip, nollie flip, etc etc and then whipping out the Greg Lutzka finishing move over and over on the final letter.
Some have said that CK came off jock-ish and concerned only with winning, while others say that if somebody whipped out that first trick on them in a friendly skatepark game they’d instantly be over it. Both true, sort of, but also kind of beside the point, because with (at least) $10,000 on the line and a potential career-goose at stake, I think it would be more disingenuous of Cory Kennedy to try and pretend like he didn’t care.
I’ll wind down this ramble by stating I don’t know Cory Kennedy/his actual persona whatsoever, and I make it a policy of not watching any of the ad nauseum coverage of this event as far as the pre- and post-game interviews go, mostly because I have yachts to wax and so on.