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Adrian Jones is a little like one of those comic book superheroes, projecting his mild-mannered alter ego at work. His work mates at the federal Insolvency and Trustee Service of Australia don’t realize that the skinny little bloke with the short-cropped hair and gray suit was once Australia’s greatest skateboarder.
And neither do they know that come 5 p.m., Jones morphs into Adrian “Errol” Jones, swapping his Armani for baggy shorts, his brogues for a pair of Vans, and heading to Bondi Beach skatepark.
The 45-year-old Jones has joined a growing band of middle-age men in Sydney known as old-school skaters who are rediscovering their skateboarding roots from the 1970s and ’80s.
Watching Jones skate now, it’s easy to see that he remains a force to be reckoned with. His poise and panache show that he has seen the top of his sport—which he did in 1980, winning almost every contest he entered.
Young skaters gather to admire him as he carves up and down the bowl, riding it like a concrete wave that never breaks. Most of these guys weren’t even born when Jones was at his peak.
Nowadays, he manages to skate a few times a week, never missing the chance to get together with MASH, the Middle-Age Skate Hacks, for a night session. “We grab a couple of generators and a bank of spotlights and light up a skateboard bowl somewhere in Sydney,” Jones says. “It’s a very civilised way to spend an evening.”
He’s also a member of SOS, the Sydney Old School, a loose group of riders 30 and older who prefer bowl or “vert” riding to the more radical street-style skating. “I’ve won the last three SOS contests,” Jones says. “As long as my body allows me to do it, I’ll still be rolling. I’ve been very lucky—haven’t broken a bone in all these years.”
Not so lucky is 42-year-old “Mustang” Mark Tomsen, who has broken several ribs, dislocated his shoulder (after the front wheel fell off his skateboard), and banged up his knees. “Nothing too serious,” says Tomsen. “Not enough to deter me from doing it. It really keeps the weight off, and it kills stress.”
Tomsen, a carpenter, skates two or three days a week. He believes he’ll be part of the first generation of skaters still at it in their 50s and 60s. “I’m hoping,” he says.
Tomsen questions the public’s perception of skating. “The sport seems destined to have a bad-boy image,” he says. “People seem to think it’s OK to take the afternoon off and go play golf, but tell them you want to go ride a skateboard—they’d think you were nuts.”
Nevertheless, the number of old-school skaters has been rising ever since the release of the award-winning U.S. documentary Dogtown and Z-Boys in 2001.
“That documentary got a lot of old-school skaters thinking how much they missed the sport,” says William Schaffer, 44, a lecturer in film studies at the University of Newcastle and a hard-core boarder. “Dr. Bill” says the community of old-school skaters is strong and getting stronger. To be considered truly old-school, a skater has to have been skating in the 1970s, in the era of the Z-Boys.
Bondi Ballet / It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon in spring. And down at Bondi, a crowd has gathered around the stainless-steel safety railing to watch the skateboarders in the concrete bowl below.
It’s the kind of diverse bunch of spectators you’d expect at Bondi. A Japanese couple are snapping away on their digital cameras. Beside them is a tall Euro-raver in miniscule shorts (which are drawing giggles from a bunch of teenage girls). Leaning against the rail are a smartly dressed elderly man in a tie and a young family with a baby stroller.
Beyond the Bondi bowl lies the famous beach and the Pacific. Sunlight splinters off the water as surfers cut across the waves. An arrow of pelicans soars overhead. “This is what it’s all about,” says Dave Stefanoff, as he drops in from the bowl’s lip.
Stefanoff, 31, says that until yesterday he was a suit-wearing finance investor. “I’m about to take three months off to skate in the U.S.,” he says.
Each skater takes his turn, cheered on by the others waiting up top. Nik Tokic, 31, drops off the lip, builds speed, and does a backside 5-0 grind along the edge of the opposite wall. “I’m at that age when I’ve started skating with the old-school guys,” he says. “I started skating in 1985, when I saw Marty McFly [played by Michael J. Fox] skating in Back to the Future.”
And what’s the vibe at Bondi bowl? “There’s no aggro here, none at all,” Tokic says. “We leave that to the Bondi surfers. Skating is very inclusive. It’s not about who’s the best; it’s about who’s having the best time.”
Next into the bowl is 45-year-old Tim Whitten, an independent music producer who has worked with Aussie groups Powderfinger and The Clouds. Whitten started skating in 1973 after his parents took him to a skateboard competition in Canberra. He has been skating on and off ever since.
A badly corked thigh is keeping 41-year-old Danny Van out of the bowl today. Van, who’s been skating for 30 years, landed heavily while attempting a McTwist—11/2 somersaults—one of the hardest manoeuvres in skateboarding.
Despite the injury, he has no intention of hanging up his board. “It’s in me blood,” he says. “I’ll keep skatin’ till the day I die. Me parents are always telling me to grow up, but I don’t care. I’m more competitive than ever.”
Van never misses the chance to skate a night session, held every Wednesday around Australia. “A lot of what we do is borderline when it comes to the law, but nobody really asks that question,” he says. “The last time we held a night skate at Bondi, it was a zombie theme night and we all came as the living dead. Which mightn’t be so far from the truth.”
Most of the old-school skateboarders keep in touch through the Web site charliedontskate.com, where they share tips, organize skate jams, buy and sell boards, and tip each other off about vacant swimming pools.
Richard Thompson, also known as “Old School Richie,” drops everything when he hears about a vacant pool. At 46, he is one of the oldest skateboarders in Australia. “Pools don’t come along every day, and as soon as I get the phone call I’m off,” he says. “I’m sure it annoys my wife, because I drop quite a lot of things to skate. Like this pool I skated at Manly a few months ago. I got the call and was down there within two hours. You don’t wait, because you might not get another pool skating for a year.”
At the Manly pool, Old School Richie set up a video camera in the shallow end to record his session.
“We also skate concrete irrigation ditches,” he says. “We just got the word on one up the coast with 60-foot embankments. We find these things using Google Earth and plot them with satellite navigation. It’s where modern technology meets old-school.”
So what do the younger skaters make of it all? How does 19-year-old Adam Haydek feel about sharing the skatepark with blokes more than twice his age?
“I’m glad we’ve still got these old-school skaters in the sport,” he says. “It gives us hope that you can still have fun, no matter how old you are.”
Stephen Lacey lives in Sydney and has written for the TV soapie Home and Away. He also is the author of two novels, one of which, Sandstone, was short-listed for the 2006 Commonwealth Writers Prize. He does not own a skateboard.
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