Wednesday, January 12, 2011

I Remember My First Supercross

It often occurs to me that privateers in the 250 class usually look like they'd be better suited for those little rocket ship rides outside supermarkets than on the track. They just wobble around on the bike a lot and even though you can't see their facial expression, you know that they are absolutely terrified every time they approach a feature. But they do it because this is their one shot to make it happen, to legitimize everything that they've done and all the money that they've thrown into MX. We feel for you, privateers, but come on, get off the damn track. Let the real men handle that section, bro. It's for your own good, you're just going to hurt your frail, pathetic self. I don't like to pick on individual people (you know, other than all the time), but I'm just going to throw this out there. I was watching that Marmont kid from Australia and have never felt more responsible for calling someone and informing them that they need to stop what they are doing. Elbows down, hunched over on the bike, as if he was trying as hard as he could to get into the fetal position while still riding the motorcycle. Thing is, he was doing well, at least in his heat. Like, qualified no problem. And I've seen his name before in the results in the land of Oz, so I always figured the guy was pretty legit. This was my introduction to his riding, at A1, and shit, that style reminds me of a frightened child in a scary movie. Hands shaking, shoulders slouched, like any shock to his psyche would kill him instantly. Once again, it's worth mentioning that the guy made the main. Finished 14th, but hey, first American SX, that's just fine. I'm trying to help you, chief, get on the style train. It will only help you, because what rider wouldn't try to clean out someone in front of them who looks like he's riding while simultaneously trying to defuse a bomb in his helmet?

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