The X Games Need an Emily!
Dear X Games Organizers,

I would like to participate in the X Games as a skateboarding contestant. You may not realize it, but you have a serious problem, a problem I can fix with bloodshed and masochism: your current skateboarding contestants–they make it look easy! They make it look like anyone could do a little flippy board thingy and ride down a stair rail and do spinny thingies at the edge of the half steep slope with their pants oddly staying up. They’re laughing and giggling! They’re high-fiving! And when they fall, they’re simply...getting back up! It’s so “totally gnarly” I can’t even describe it! Superb! Except… (This is where I come in.)

Everyone loves a failure, and I can be that failure. I managed to fall backwards onto my elbow after my first 15 seconds on a skateboard. (True.) I can be that guy with a massive concussion, broken bones, and knee abrasions from one trip down the half-pipe. (I hate helmets and knee-slides!) I can deliver that astonished, shocked “Oohhhhhhh” groan from the audience after a particularly hideous incident involving angles and feet. I don’t think you realize that although a good percentage of people go to skateboarding events to see amazing tricks that defy gravity and physical limitations, some people just visit to see somebody fall down on their ass. I could be that person on her ass. Give me the blood! Give me guts! Give me glory! And give me a peek at that rib cage!

Imagine this: I will stick out from the beginning because I’m twenty pounds heavier than the tallest contestant, and my pants don’t sag enough. Plus, I’m not wearing a totally cool t-shirt and awesome shoes. Instead, I’m wearing a t-shirt with stains near the collar where my acne medication dripped from my face and dyed my shirt (my nice shirt), and I’m wearing no-laces Sketchers that were on sale at Meijers. Hence, it begins with the crowd sensing something is terribly, terribly wrong. I will start at the top of a U-thingy and look down upon the scene. “Oh God,” I will think to myself, “there are so many ways I can turn this skatepark into a world of pain.”

On a side note, I have no testicles. Normally, this is not a bad thing, unless you want the testosterone for muscles. However, this is a problem because many of the skateboarding injuries are nutsacks hitting rails and sometimes, albeit rarely, a skateboard. (Amazing!) As a female in the mostly male dominated skateboarding world, I want to tell you that I can totally fake ball-pain. I will writhe on the ground in agony with the rest of them, clutching my groin with dedication. Teenage males, who find such injuries hilarious, will laugh, and I will have reached my target audience.

Anyway, so...I’m attempting a “Lien Air” “pushing Mongo” followed by a “ Madonna” “nose bonk” and then a “Beni-hana” “dog piss” “mosquito” on an “O-vert” then to an“escalator extension” because I’m “old school” and totally “rad” ...and then to a “sex change”...but totally “sketchy” and filled with “slams,” resulting in a “swellbow”--all before getting a “concussion.” And landing on my ass but ultimately in a stretcher. I have entertained the masses like a clown! Also, I don’t know what any of those skateboarding terms mean, so let me describe what actually happens.

I go down the ramp, very s-l-o-w-l-y. My “board,” as I like to call it (because I’m just that cool), moves out from under me, and I land on my butt. I have no butt muscles (like most skaters), so I essentially bruise my pelvis. I get up, like a trooper and try to go down a rail. I fall off my board and hit my crotch. Hunch-backed, holding my groin *wink*, I get back on my board because, as I said, I’m a trooper. Then I try to go down the stairs. I approach the stairs very slowly because they’re kind of scary to me. I think you’re supposed to jump over them, in retrospect. I barely go over them before I face-plant into the rest of the stairs, receiving a bloody gash on my forehead. Some skaters roll out of their falls. I’m a trooper. I just thud. Speaking of thud’s, I somehow run face-first into a padded pole, leaving a bloody smudge and breaking my nose. As a trooper, again, I wave to the crowd. They look worried and perturbed. I try to go up a half-thingy. I go up two inches before gravity takes me in the opposite direction. I move slower and slower until I slowly fall to the left. My head hits a rail. A concussion. I get up. I obviously have no clue where I am. I’m staggering around. I collapse, and the audience cheers (in my mind). I live for the moment when a paramedic stands up and says, “It’s alright. She’s okay. She’s okay. We’re just taking her to the hospital for some preliminary tests and treatment.” They take me away in a stretcher, and I wave to the crowd. They love me, albeit silently. I may leave behind a shoe for a lucky audience member to scavenge. I drop some candies.

With the bloodlust of the audience satisfied, the next skateboarder looks like the most talented, athletic, limber, cerebral, competent, sinewy, coordinated, muscular, acrobatic, intelligent, balanced athlete ever to grace the face of this goddamn Earth. Now everyone seems gloriously talented! “How is everyone doing so well when this poor girl got hurt so frequently and so easily in such a short period of time?” they wonder. “Wow, everyone is so good compared to her!” As for the rest of the skaters, no more injuries. No injuries at all, surprisingly, as they are now a little cautious. The audience is happy and relieved to have something positive to cheer about.

In conclusion, I could be that person. I could be that person who runs into hard things, usually avoidable, at fast speeds. I could be that person, idiotically wearing shorts, who skids across the tarmac, bare skin against concrete. I could be that person that doesn’t stay down when maimed and instead staggers around, spinning in broad circles and ending up falling over the rail into the audience. I could be that person clutching non-existent testicles and with the back of her other hand upon her forehead, and for all those paramedics who have to stand around in the heat all day, I could give them purpose. While some people “go big or go home,” I will “go big and go home” in the ambulance from something that should never have been attempted in the first place, especially at my skill level. My career shall be longer than expected as I can graduate through successive levels of pain and extremity immobility, and if it comes to it, I can faceplant in a wheelchair and vision is not a necessity to travel downhill.

Looking forward to your reply.

Lovingly,
An athlete

P.S. I could even start my own merchandising line: “Falling Emily,” complete with a line of lunchboxes, monikered gauze, energy drinks (tastes like eyebrow blood!), and, of course, skateboards! I could include other sports I can’t do, like snowboarding, rollerblading, BMX, and everything. I’m also bad at walking, running, lifting, twirling, sports in general, as well as everything else.


Possible sponsors:

Blue Cross Blue Shield
Tide Ultra Stain Release Liquid Laundry Detergent
70% Isopropyl Alcohol (my alcoholic beverage!)
Spironolactone (it comes in peppermint!)
Hello Kitty

I’ll think of some more. It’s not hard when you desire riches and grew up hustling on the streets.