Grind Read Free

be right. It was then that I noticed the second guy. He slammed the trunk closed. On his head was a helmet. Tucked under his arm was a board. They weren’t security. They were here to skate and tape!

Chapter Three
    Both guys were older than us — maybe eighteen or twenty. The one guy climbed onto his board. He did a couple of powerful pumps with his right leg, and the board practically jumped forward. Then, out of the blue, he popped the board into the air, spinning a 360 flip and landing back on top of it! Perfect! He wasn’t just a skater, he was a very good skater.
    The other guy — the one with the camera — ran behind him, lens to his eye, capturing what the skater was doing.
    He rolled up the asphalt bank and came back down fakie, hit the flat and kick flipped the board. Another trick hit with no effort. He skidded to a stop right in front of us, kicking the board up and catching it in the air.
    â€œHow’s it going?” he asked.
    â€œGood,” I said. I didn’t know who he was, so I wasn’t going to give much away. Being a good skater didn’t mean he was necessarily a good guy.
    â€œAnd for you?” he asked Wally.
    Wally didn’t answer. I looked over at him. He was wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He looked stunned.
    â€œIt’s going good…really good…Mr. Bam Bam.”
    â€œActually, Bam Bam will do,” the man said.
    â€œYou know him?” I asked Wally.
    Wally still looked stunned, but he squeezed out some words. “Of course I know him.
You
know him.”
    â€œI don’t know any…” I stopped mid-sentence as the man took off his helmet to reveal a wild thatch of bleached blond hair. I did know him. It was —
he
was — Bam Bam Bradley. I knew him from articles and pictures in
Thrasher
and
Transworld Skateboarding
and skating videos. He was a professional skater! Suddenly I felt as stunned as Wally looked.
    â€œYou really are him … Bam Bam.”
    â€œThat’s my name,” he chuckled.
    It wasn’t his real name—that was Brian. He got the nickname Bam Bam because he looked like Fred Flintstone’s neighbor’s kid who was named Bam Bam. And for the fact that he was famous for destroying his board—pounding it into the pavement or smashing it against a rail — when a trick didn’t go the way he wanted. Bam, bam, bam, and that was the end of his board.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Wally sputtered. That was a good question.
    Bam Bam held out his board. “I’ve come to skate, if that’s okay with you two.”
    â€œOf course it’s okay,” I exclaimed.
    â€œIt would be, like, our
honor
to skate with you,” Wally gushed.
    â€œThat’s cool,” Bam Bam said, “although I hope you’ll understand I don’t really have a lot of time, so I was thinking maybe I could skate and you two could watch while we film.”
    â€œWe could do that,” Wally said.
    â€œSure, it’ll be like watching our own video except it will be live,” I added.
    â€œAnd in living color,” Bam Bam said.
    â€œI was just wondering,” Wally asked, “how do you know about this spot?”
    â€œI heard about it in a skating chat room on the net.”
    â€œYou go into chat rooms?” Wally asked. “I go into chat rooms all the time. Maybe we’ve talked.”
    â€œProbably not. I used to talk, but now I just listen in. When I used to say it was me, people didn’t believe me. They burned me for being a poser.”
    I chuckled. Imagine talking to Bam Bam but not knowing it.
    â€œEither of you ever visit my web site?” Bam Bam asked.
    â€œI have,” Wally said.
    â€œI’d like it if people visited it every day. The more hits, the more I get paid.”
    â€œYou have to pay to go on your web site?” I asked.
    â€œNot you. The sponsors. You know those ads at the top and bottom of the page and the