I've met lots of pros, and still see them all the time here in Portland. I know I've shared most of these stories here, but what the hell...
Met the Bones Brigade at a demo in Portland around '85 or '86. I don't remember the exact squad, but I do remember Tommy and Cab being there. Met Cab again in the late 90's in Seattle. I totally fanned out - nicest guy ever,
Encountered the Real team during the height of their popularity with The Real Video. My friend hit them off (I won't say with what) and in exchange they hooked me up with several boards, wheels, etc. Daher, Liversedge, and another cat I can't remember cruised around in my friend's car with us and were super cool. I also remember Kelch being pretty funny. Coco was being a dick at first, then he gave in and was hella cool. And Salman didn't like us at all. Which bummed me out because Salman was by far my favorite skater at the time. Fuck!
I live in Portland now, so I see pros all the time - but sometimes you don't even notice them. Just in the last couple of years, I noticed these random things:
- one time Chet Childress rode by on his bike and watched me skate flatground
- I once saw Chaz Pineda bombing by down a steep hill in a random neighborhood
- a couple years ago I saw Busenitz killing Burnside on a random morning by himself
- BA once walked into my friend's bar five minutes after I left. Shit!
- same week, that same friend (whiile driving) almost hit Daewon crossing the street
- I went into Pharmacy one day and saw Malto lurking
- I went into a bar one time with my skateboard and the bartender chick immediately tells me that Ethan Fowler was in there the night before and made a huge drunken scene before splitting without paying his tab.
- I saw someone from Alien Workshop (I won't blow his cover) trade two Alien decks for a pair of Chukka Lows, even though he rides for another shoe company). Real shit.
I could go on forever.
Anyway, my all time favorite pro encounter went like this: I was on vacation in LA with my family back in I think around '85-'87. I had a freestyle bike at the time, which I convinced my parents to let me strap to the roof of the van and take it with us. So I rode my bike down to Huntington Pier, thinking I was gonna find a spot to do some "flatland" as they called it. I was only a few minutes into bustin' my shitty little tricks when this dude walked up with a huge ass blue Rector duffle bag. I remember just seeing the bag and instantly knowing he was pro for some reason. Like, only a pro would have a bag that bitchin'. The guy pulls a little freestyle board out of the bag, throws it down and lands in a casper, and from there proceeds to bust out with a seemingly unending assortment of freestyle tricks. I remember he never put his foot down on the ground once. He just went from trick to trick to trick for fucking ever. By this time, I've completely stopped riding, and I'm just sitting there watching him. Also, I should add, I was the only person there. There were people around of course, but nobody in the direct vicinity. No one cared. So this was pretty much a private show. When the dude finally got tired, he put the board in the bag, said goodbye, and left. And by that time I had fully figured out that the dude was none other than Rodney Mullen.