I sat Geoff down for ten minutes in the ruins of the St. Luke's Church courtyard so he could tell me and a random gentleman about his upcoming video part, battling injuries, his love for the Wild West, and his new pet project, CivilWare.
When someone says Liverpool, most of the world's kneejerk reaction is to think of the Beatles. (I've talked a lot about the Fab Four in the past, mostly because of the joy they bring my wife's mentally retarded uncle, Lonnie.) But if you mention Liverpool to a skateboarder, Geoff Rowley is the first person who comes to mind. I have always been a fan of Geoff's skating, as well as his candor, and so I was very happy that I got a chance to spend some time with him in Liverpool the other day.
I can say, without hyperbole, that when Geoff moved to the States in the late 90s he changed skateboarding forever. He skated hard and fast, and his balls were pressed much more firmly to the wall than anyone else's at the time. He revolutionized handrail skating and did it with style (at that time style was an afterthought in skateboarding, and a lot of skaters looked like piles of dogshit on wheels). Also, thanks to Geoff skaters don't wear hideous and impractical moonboots anymore. Back in the 90s, while everyone else was skating bulbous sneakers that looked like they should have lights in the heels and be worn by three-years-olds, Geoff was grinding the huge hubba at the Staples Center in plain old Authentics.
I sat Geoff down for ten minutes in the ruins of the St. Luke's Church courtyard—which was bombed by the Nazis and never rebuilt—so he could tell me and a random gentleman about his upcoming video part, battling injuries, his love for the Wild West, and his new pet project, CivilWare.
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