The Blow off...

The joys of spring find Brian feeling relatively chipper at the moment. But, never fully contented, he’s finding the naming of freestyle tricks quite disturbing…

As a judge of the, ahem, highest calibre, I reckon all tricks should be officially ratified by an international body that approves the names of stunts and thereby prevents any more pathetic names. I really feel embarrassed talking to skaters or snowboarders about our tricks which never seem to sound as cool as theirs.

I’m convinced we, as judges, hold the right to decide what they are called in the first place, plus we end up calling them what we want anyway; but that’s another story and a case for a fly-on-the-wall inside the judge’s tower.

Fitbird

So I hereby propose that all new tricks and their variants be passed, principally, by Julian da Vall and I, at our new organisation FITBIRD (Freestylers International Trick Board of Identification, Ratification and Designation).

Since modern freestyle began in the late 90’s, the pioneering tricks got off to a bad start with unimaginative names such as the spock and vulcan. I mean, Trekky names are hardly extreme sport oriented are they? We might as well have given the crowds train spotter’s notepads to collect sail numbers…

There should be a natural thought process to form a trick’s name. The old days saw tricks named after what was actually happening; for example, rail ride and nose sink. Admittedly it’s a little too much to name one of today’s manoeuvres by recounting its actions! (Yep, Jules, that was a hop, spin, slidey twice wrong way round duck splat attempt).

Jules da Vall reckoned he came up with Flaka. The original (American) name, the Swayze, was obviously too dancy and, well, gay to repeat over and over again during heats. Jules correctly followed a process of naming it from its derivatives; the Taka (named after the aerial 360 first publicised by Japanese wavesailor Takaguchi Furamaya) and the fact that it is done on flat water hence Flaka. (Ironically flaca with a c in South American Spanish means skinny chick).

Other tricks were named after their inventors rewarding them with fame and immortality. The Everole from Gary Eversole, the Cheese Roll by Cesare Cantagalli and the Ponch by Kevin Ponichetera for example. And, of course, the Das Skye loop, as spotted in German Surf mag last year of John Skye working a new push loop variant… (by mistake!). Other legends have tricks named after them, but invented by others. The late great, double-looping legend and Indoor Champion Andy Funnell was honoured by Ricardo Campello, with the mind-numbingly difficult trick the Funnel being dedicated to his memory.

Recently there has been a huge South American and Caribbean influence in trick naming, for obvious reasons, as most of the best freestylers hail from these parts. But I am finding many of these names tiresome and limited; Barracuda, Gecko, Toucan, Cana Brabu (brown sugar cane), Bob (some stoner in Bonaire ’s idea…) Chacho (dancing influence) etc.

I’m off for a Puneta

The South American influence has however invented some very interested names that, had we spoken Portuguese, would have instantly been given the FITBIRD stamp of approval, without any quibbles whatsoever.

Puneta, Gozzada, and Voquech all translate (in no particular order as I’m not Brazilian) to mean whore, ejaculation and masturbate. The mind boggles and in a way we should be relieved that freestyle never made it to the Olympics, as all good Catholic Portuguese speaking audiences might be a tad offended. However, I’m sure most of Brazil would have been rolling in the aisles listening to the commentary whilst watching Kauli Seadi perform such tricks in Beijing to a viewer ship of millions.

The Mental Dental

Last year, judging the inaugural World Kids freestyle championships in Bonaire, I named a few more that the kids had come up with in light winds. One little guy was spinning multiple sail and body 360’s around and around by the harness lines using his teeth. To me this was instantly named the Mental Dental, and a variant of it - the Toothless Wonder. I am still stuck on what to call the rather overweight kid, the clear winner to me, who pulled a newspaper out of his rash vest and leant back to sail to read it, and in a later heat rustled up 3 oranges and began juggling, also back to sail. Any suggestions?

The Dairylea

Enjoying a great session sailing with Jules da Vall & I last weekend was Jan Sleigh who was trying his new clew first cheese roll. Respect to Jan, it looks both hard and painful, but he’s not yet come up with a name. JDV and I suggest that this form of ‘over-processed’ cheese roll be called something like the Dairylea or our favourite, the Laughing Cow. (Yeah, great sailing sesh until Julian Anderson landed a push loop on my head and snapped me and my mast in half…now that’s what I call a Meat Cleaver)

The Chopper

So to finish, I have my own personal new trick - the Chopper (which I cannot complete and involves severe testicular pain). It stems from a regular stance Chacho 540 and a Willy Skipper Lollipop - surely the campest trick name ever, and one I can also rarely make. The correct name for this as it stands is the Barracuda 540, but I prefer Chopper. Plus the way I do it, it’s more apt…

This just leaves me with one last dilemma. My baby daughter can’t say cereal bar and when hungry demands that I give her a SeaBat. All I need now is to find a trick to fit this excellently stupid name. Any ideas?

"Trekky names are hardly extreme sport oriented. We might as well give the crowds train spotter’s notepads to collect sail numbers…"

"Tricks were originally named after their inventors rewarding them with fame and immortality."


"We should be relieved that freestyle never made it to the Olympics, as all good Catholic Portuguese speaking audiences might be a tad offended."

"We suggested that this form of ‘over-processed’ cheese roll be called something like the Dairylea or our favourite, the Laughing Cow."