|Date: 12 février 1989.
Place: Paris Bercy
Rampe: 12m de large, 3,50m de haut.
|Matt Hoffman assassine tout le monde. Bar hop air, Candy bar lookback, aerials multitricks genre Candy bar into cancan, No hand one foot into cancan, No hand into one hand into no foot, 540, Tailwhip air, Fakie nothing, Fakie bar hop. En plateforme, Matt rentre Cherrypicker dropin, Decade dropin et 50/50 en montant à plus d'un mètre.
L'anglais Lee Reynolds termine deuxième avec des aerials entre 2,40 et 3m.
Dave Voelker se classe troisième en rentrant ses 540 à tous les coups.
Le français Philippe Pereira, avec No foot cancan, No hand into lookdown (exceptionnel), No foot cancan in and out, termine quatrième devant Chris Potts.
Mat Hoffman, The Ride of my Life, 2002: Wilkerson's KOV contests had an annual invitational each year in Paris, and the top four pro and am bikers got to go. This time there was the added bonus of riding with vert skaters Tony Hawk Mark Gonzales, Danny Way Adrian Demain, Joe Johnson (there was a skateboarder and bike rider who shared the same name -both Joes were on this trip), and Jimi Scott. I was extramotivated to make the trip. I'd missed the previous Paris KOV because I was out with a broken leg. All year I heard tall tales about how insane it had been.
Counting down to the departure date, I got my tickets, did my laundry, and dug my passport out, tried to remember some of the elementary French phrases from my eighth-grade class. I couldn't wait. Then, the day before I hopped on the plane, I couldn't remember who I was. I'd been riding the Ninja Ramp and came in off an air when my forks broke. I got hurled into the flat bottom headfirst and was knocked out cold for seven hours. This was probably the worst head injury I'd ever suffered riding bikes-and I was beginning to realize how burly vert riding could be. I came down so hard on the Ninja Ramp that even though I was wearing a full-face helmet, I had amnesia for three days. Bits and pieces of my memory floated back to me, in random order. When I saw my bags packed and my plane tickets to France, I remembered I really, really wanted to go. But I couldn't exactly remember why. I faked like I was fine and boarded my flight. Standing on the decks of the halfpipe in Bercy stadium in the middle of Paris, I realized I was in overfly head. My bell was still ringing, and I had no idea how to ride. I wasn't even one hundred percent sure I had riding experience-watching Lee Reynolds, Chris Potts, and Joe Johnson (the biker) doing airs, I couldn't believe anybody would be stupid enough to drop in and actually do airs that high! I was wearing all my gear, sitting on my bike, and shaking my head. "No way would I ever do that," I told them. "You guys are going ten feet high" They told me I could do thirteen. I laughed at the silliness of what they were saying. Alter much convincing on their part, I psyched myself up and figured I could maybe drop in, ride across the bottom, and pop out on the opposite deck. That didn't look too hard As soon as I entered the first tranny, my body's muscle memory took over-my first wall I did a five-foot air, and a six-foot air on the next. Within an hour or two I got a few tricks back (my friends convinced me that I could not only do them, but that I'd invented them) It's weird not being yourself. Very, very weird.
The best part about the Paris invitationals was that the promoters from Bicross magazine put the events together as good will ambassadors. They were trying to get American pros psyched on Europe. It worked. Our crew stayed in a medieval castle. We were treated to helicopter rides over the city and trips to the catacombs under the streets as well as carted up to the top of the Eiffel Tower and out to plenty of nice dinners and nightclub excursions. The trip lasted a week, and our big demo/contest was only a one-day event The rest of the days were reserved for practice, and the nights were for playtime. We went to the Crazy Horse, the original French burlesque club that cost four hundred dollars a table and required ties to get past the doorman. Nobody in our group had ties, but Mark Gonzales emerged from the bathroom wearing a tie he made from toilet paper and quickly origamied another half-dozen to get us past the rude bouncer. Another night, breakdancing bravado was called into play. Freestylin magazine's staff photographer and fire-starter, Spike Jonze, instigated our entire posse into dance floor combat against some French B-boys, and we pulled out all the moves. It was a matter of pride, and I'm proud to say we left that Eurodisco in awe, I think. Since nobody spoke French very well, it was hard to tell if they were yelling at us in joy or anger. The big riding day started off with the KOV contest and blended into a demo. The stadium was at capacity, with about nine thousand spectators, but the French are masters of hype They'd miced the stands and amplified the applause through the stadium sound system, making nine thousand people sound like thirty thousand It was nuts.
Dave Voelker on the cover of Freestylin #49 june 1989
Lee Reynolds sky high in Paris France. FAT zine #10 cover.
|Joe Johnson s'impose magistralement grâce à des runs cleans, hauts et variés. Tentative de double tailwhip air sur son dernier run.
Brian Blyther le King Of Vert en titre se classe deuxième en utilisant tout le half pipe avec une hauteur démentielle.
Troisième Ron Wilkerson qui se remet à peine de son récent accident.
Dernier, Dennis Langlais.
Bicross and Skate magazine #76 mars 1989