Around 20 years ago amidst an incredible groundswell of cultural interest that spread across the globe, I bought a skateboard. Tony Hawk was a household name, even in the mouths of older generations who hadn’t known anything about skateboarding just a few years before. Playstation games and the time granted teenagers before the advent of the smartphone meant that we could spend quite a bit of our lives watching skateboarding videos (from magazines and sketchy downloads and all sorts of other sources that weren’t YouTube). But at the end of the day the goal was to skate for ourselves. To parktake in the sport and culture of progression associated with it.
I saved up the money I needed to get a decent World Industries deck setup with trucks and wheels included. A rig ready to roll so that I wouldn’t have to learn too much about assembly and could focus on riding. I was not a natural. My comfortable footing was goofy, which my friends pointed out meant that I often had to adjust my back foot before attempting any tricks. So I tried regular but that didn’t work too well. Most of the time my practice was confined to the only 2 square metres of solid, smooth concrete available – inside the garage at home.
There I simply stood and worked on my ollie. After a few months I got that down and then the world of skateboarding became my oyster. The ability to ollie on and off of pavements makes it possible to actually commute without an engine or pedals in a world made of concrete and asphalt. But the main journey with the board would always be somewhere that real skating could be done. Luckily in my case I lived near enough to an actual skatepark. It was called Skateworld.
When you arrived at the place there would usually be a Volkwagen Beetle parked out front. Dented and rusty with dust on the windows it seemed to live in that space. It was in essence a shop as everyone in the area seemed to know that when there was a slipper wedged in the window, they were open for business. Flowers were their main product. And the skaters at the park were their main clientele.
At the entrance to the park you were obliged to pay R5 to the people who lived in the outbuildings. Custodians of a skatepark who couldn’t give two shits about skating. They cared that they had a roof over their head and those few bucks a day meant that they could buy themselves food. Back then I didn’t think too much about who owned the place. We were just psyched to have a place to skate where people didn’t hassle you.
Many concrete jungles have fantastic spaces to skate but the state and other authorities seem to look down on the sport and invent narratives to demonise it. At least that was the case back then. Before it was an Olympic sport. Skateworld was a haven from those authoritarian thugs who wouldn’t hesitate to use a bit of violence on a group of skateboarders who wouldn’t easily back down. Watching videos of Bam Margera and Mike Vallely filled us with a sense of pride and the attitude of ‘Fuck You’ was emblematic of the subculture. Stick with the skaters and the punks and we’ll all take care of each other. It may not have been the healthiest mindset but it got us through. Anger can help overcome the pain of failure so long as you don’t lose your head. Like when you catch a bail on a trick you’ve been trying for the thousandth time and smack yourself in some new way that hurts in a new way and instead of just screaming it out you smash your board and then no more skating for you. Stupidity and pain can be great teachers.
But even the cultural safety of Skateworld wasn’t enough to truly progress in the sport itself. Most of the ramps were made from wood many summers before and rain had swelled beyond their effective use. You’d have to ollie just to get onto the ramp which killed a lot of your momentum and so you couldn’t reach the top. Dropping in on those old ramps was damn near suicide. Even the concrete itself, made up of blocks about 3x3m wide, dropped into place an age before for an unknown reason, became uneven over time as they sank into soft ground below. In certain corners an unenlightened kid could be seen riding his board through autumn leaves right before slamming onto his face as his board hit the raised concrete of the next slab and his board stayed in place while his body kept moving forward with inertia and gravity took over. Physics are the only laws you have to obey.
Even though it wasn’t pretty and wasn’t particularly useful there’d still be that sense of camaraderie that comes with belonging to a subculture. Although I couldn’t skate too well, I did have a video camera so I would film my buddies and the other kids at the park, particularly the older and more skilled guys who were doing tricks worth filming. There’s only so many times you can laugh at a friend bashing their shins attempting a 360 flip. At Skateworld, I found a place and it helped deal with the world as seen from a teenage ape’s eyes. The older guys would happily coach the younger ones to help improve their form. My cousin once visited me in Joburg when we were teens and as he was a budding skateboarder with skill I was delighted to be able to offer him the advice of Fritz – the best skater in the park – to help improve his inward heelflip.
Then life went on. I moved. I studied. I moved again. I studied some more. And then I found myself driving by the place nearly 20 years later. It looked good. It looked better than I had ever seen it. I then found out that it had been taken over and turned into 011 Skatepark. 011 being the telephone code for Joburg. Of course I had to go and check it out. New mini ramps and quarter pipes made of concrete were being installed. The entire space was filled with a hopeful enthusiasm that gives South Africa its flavour and edge as the people of this place move things forward regardless of circumstance. Like a skater continuously trying to land a trick that has wiped them out multiple times.
I have subsequently seen that there have been events hosted at 011 Skatepark, which are undoubtedly increasing the knowledge and love of the sport. From girls’ skate days to open jam sessions with musical accompaniment. I haven’t been able to attend any just yet but I am looking forward to finding time to go back and hang out. This skatepark is a great boon (not a baboon) for the community and the differences it will make in the lives of everyone who goes to skate there will be long lasting and meaningful.
If you or your kids like to skate and you find yourselves somewhere near the 1610 (Edenvale postal code), go check out 011 Skatepark for sure.
