Eric Nash Gets Annoyed But Doesn’t Show It

I already told you all about my limited interactions with Ben Schroeder. And someday I’ll have to tell some stories about Jeff Grosso and Lance Mountain. Now in the case of Ben, Grosso, and Lance, they probably don’t remember me at all. But there’s one pro skater I’m positive will never forget me, and that’s Eric Nash. The reason is because I was probably a major annoyance in his life.

This is probably not the Eric Nash I’m talking about. But this is.

When I started skating in the late 80s I heard about Eric Nash, along with a hundred other pro skaters. Everyone on Powell was popular (to sixth graders who were just getting into skating) and everyone else was second place. So I didn’t really know anything about him, I had just heard his name.

One day my sister told me that she went to high school with Eric Nash and Jeff Grosso. Up until that point I had no idea they lived in the same city that I did, Arcadia, California.

Well, one day–I can’t remember how–I got the opportunity to go skate at Eric’s house. He had a 16 foot wide, 9 foot high halfpipe in his backyard. It just came up to vert but didn’t have any on it. I think this is the first time I went to his house, although it’s a bit hazy. Anyway, there were tons of people there, including Steve Salisian, another skater from Arcadia who went pro, right at the end of the vert era of skateboarding, which is why you’ve probably never heard of him.

I had all my pads on, and I was going to learn how to skate a nine-footer. One problem–I had never skated a real ramp before. I had skated a small quarter-pipe, a bank ramp, and a four-foot mini ramp. A nine foot ramp is a different beast than a four-foot mini.

As everyone looked on, Guy Hartley told me to just put the nose down and ride down. That sounded easy enough, but that ramp was freakin’ me out. I finally got the courage up to drop in. Ok, you know how most kids, when they drop in for the first time fall backwards and slide down the ramp or zing out? Not me. I pretty much dove forward. I figure I must have dove because I didn’t slide at all, I dropped straight to the flat-bottom. Nine feet…onto my hip. Well, that was the only time I ever skated Eric’s ramp, sadly enough. By the time I got another chance the masonite was trashed and then it got torn down and Eric moved.

But in between that experience and Eric moving a couple of years passed. I’m not sure how I introduced myself to Eric, but basically I think I knocked on his door one day, told him I was Sunny Steimle’s brother, and for some reason he invited me in or something. I really don’t know how it happened. I also don’t know why I went back the next day, and the next, and the next, and so on for about two years.

Every day I would skate home from school, and on the way home I’d stop by Eric’s house, like I was his best buddy. And for some reason, he would just let me in. I think at first he kind of enjoyed it, and I probably didn’t do it every day at first, but after a while it must have gotten on his nerves. I would show up every day around 3pm, and hang out until about 6pm or later. I’d play pool with Eric, Ben Schroeder, and Grosso, and just hang out. But I wasn’t like a cool little kid hanging out, I was just an annoying grommie trying to be cool with the big boys. Man, I can’t believe I ever did that.

Kids, don’t ever do what I did. And if you have done it, it doesn’t mean you can’t change.

I even watched that Vanilla Ice movie at his house once while he was hanging out with his girlfriend.

After a while, I think he and Grosso came to dread me because Grosso started calling me “the reaper” because I would knock on the door every day at the same time, and I’m sure they just dreaded it.

Oh, and once Eric sold me a set of wheels for $20. Not a bad deal. But then I went home and Chris Groeber had some new H-Street wheels that were a lot better than the purple Sims wheels Eric had sold me, and he was selling them for $10. So instead of sucking it up like a man and using the purple wheels, or giving them to a friend, or throwing them away, or something like what a man would do, I went back to Eric and asked for my money back. He asked me if I knew what an Indian-giver was (this was in the days before political correctness and big brother breathing down your neck). I told him I did. And then I still asked for my money back and he gave it to me.

But here’s the thing about Eric. In all that time I was hanging around him, he never said anything. He never told me to leave, he never told me I was annoying, he never even acted cold. He always was super cool and in fact, the only reason I think he must have been annoyed is because I’m assuming there’s no way he could not have been. But if it weren’t for that I couldn’t say for sure that he ever minded one bit.

So Eric, all I can say is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry because I must have been one of the most annoying experiences of your life, and I just hope that you got some sort of character-building experience out of it.

PS - Where are you living these days? Maybe I can pass by sometime?