Style, Nuances, and
Trick Differentiation
by Andrew Vargason
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019
It is said that no two snowflakes are exactly alike. This old adage is true in the sense that there is no such thing as perfection in nature. What may seem identical at first glance may, in fact, be so similar that it would need to be broken down further and further until one was able to distinguish the differences. On the flip side, some things are so obviously different, that no further evaluation is required. What I propose is that tricks in BMX, and other subcultures as well, are a lot like snowflakes.
Returning to the adage, there are two words that complicate the statement: exactly and alike. Exactly is an adverb defined by Merriam-Webster as “in a manner or measure or to a degree or number that strictly conforms to a fact or condition” or “in every respect.” Alike, on the other hand, is defined as “exhibiting close resemblance without being identical.” I would contend that many snowflakes, especially those that have been created under laboratory conditions, are alike, and to the degree detectable by humans, even under a microscope, maybe be considered exactly alike. Often it comes down to the definitions and technicalities to make these arguments.
So how does this relate to BMX? Let’s consider something as simple as a one-footer. There is a plethora of factors just in this trick that you could make the argument that no two one-footers are exactly alike and you would probably be correct, especially when the focus is not isolated to the leg or foot itself. The more variables that are introduced, the less likely that something could ever be exactly alike. From the standpoint of the trick itself, you have the variation in distance from the pedal, direction of movement, leg position, and speed of execution. Next is what is happening with the foot once removed from the pedal. Are nac-nacs, can-cans, grizz airs, and candy-bars not one-footers? Because of the methods used to execute these different tricks, it makes perfect sense why they are differentiated. What about doing a foot-jam? By all technicalities, the execution of a foot-jam would be a one-footer to foot-jam to one-footer out. However, it’s generally unnecessary to address the one-footer at all as it’s a means of execution for another trick.
Disregarding the established variants of the one-footer, as already addressed prior, it is curious to consider how much variation is considered the same trick. For a trick to be called a one-footer at the highest level, one foot must be removed from the bike. By convention, we have also collectively agreed that the foot must also return to the bike in order to “count” – more on this in a moment. A one-footer lifted straight up from the pedal, straight away from the pedal – dog piss style, downward from the pedal, or slightly forward or backwards are all considered one footers, yet aside from taking a foot off, all look drastically different. The movements of the foot and leg alone play a large role in the style of the one-footer. The introduction of the rest of the body and the bicycle itself add to the variables in the trick. Even which foot gets taken off doesn’t affect the trick being called a one-footer.
So, at what point does the one-footer in the foot-jam example become significant? Nobody would argue with calling a can-can to foot-jam exactly that, yet would generally deem the one-footer insignificant. I propose that it is when a change of motion takes place. The motion from pedal to tire does not need to be addressed, but if the motion is outward, and then inward to the tire, it becomes a one-footer to foot-jam.
The dynamic freedom we allow within the one-footer allows for the development of style. Yet, these nuances begin to be less subtle and often push for trick differentiation, which explains perfectly the candy-bar, can-can, etc. The minimum parameters for a one-footer to become one of these other tricks have been determined, but are not always clearly defined for future riders to learn and understand. Definitions become open to interpretation and become a game of telephone, where many people are either doing the same trick and calling it something different, or saying the same trick name, but executing different maneuvers.
While the discussion so far has focused on the simplest form of a trick and how variations in dynamic movement and style don’t inherently change what a trick is called, I’d now like to switch the discussion to turndowns. The turndown is a relatively simple trick when the handlebars are turned 180 degrees while your upper body moves to the outside of the bike. The turndown is interesting in that there is not distinction between a turndown brought into 180 degrees versus a turndown like those of Chris Doyle, where the handlebars have been turned over 270 degrees and the rider’s body has become entangled in the bike. Visually, these look like very different tricks, and yet, they have the same name; one of them has just been extended further than the other. But at what point are they no longer alike enough to share a name? I’ll counter with the lookback. The lookback and the turndown have nearly no distinguishing factors, aside from a direction of rotation in relative direction to the obstacle being ridden. Does this matter? Are they not the same trick? How do we determine that a turndown cranked to 270 degrees is the same as a turndown turned to the standard 180 degrees, but a turndown and lookback, both at 180 degrees, are not the same?
Crankflips are another interesting talking point here. They can be kicked either with the front foot or back foot. Crankflips are also called kickflips somewhat interchangeably. I am uncertain at the time of writing if these two terms were used originally to differentiate between the two styles of crankflip, or if the terms developed regionally to describe the same trick, done either way. What I can attest to is that I have never heard them differentiated from one another, leading me to believe that it is a regional development to call them either crankflips or kickflips. Whichever the origin happens to be, these tricks are inherently different by method of execution, even though the end results are alike. Is it a different trick or is it just a nuance in execution?
There are countless other tricks that are similar to all of these examples, too. The tabletop, flatty, and invert discussion has been ongoing for years. Barspins and bus-drivers have a grey-area. Tailwhips versus whoppers do as well. It’s extremely difficult to nail down exactly what differentiates a trick sometimes and why it’s different, especially when there is always a counter-argument of style. In my opinion, BMX has historically done a bad job of defining exactly what a trick is or is not. It’s entirely possible that some riders were doing tricks slightly differently for the sole intention of calling it something else.
As an aside, all of this discussion so far has been about differentiating tricks or stylistic nuances, but what about a trick “counting.” By conventional standards, a trick doesn’t count if your foot hits the ground. Well, unless of course you intended it to hit the ground. When BMX is looked at as art, it becomes harder to lay out specific ground rules and standards. Art is in the eye of the beholder, and if you as a rider want to put your foot down before, during, or after your trick, then that is your prerogative. But more interestingly, at what point does a trick not count. There are plenty of discussions out there about grass landings not counting, resi not counting, or skatepark rails not counting. Resi is probably one of the more interesting topics to discuss here, as there is a negative attitude that immediately comes out as soon as it is in a clip. From the beginning of a trick idea in a foam pit, it is abundantly clear than landing in a foam pit is not equal to landing and rolling away on a real ramp. The development of a resi landing bridges this gap and provides the ability to roll away from your tricks after learning them into the foam. Nearly every resi clip has at least one passive aggressive comments, such as “to resi though…” or “do it to a real landing…” Then, when you do see these tricks done to a real ramp, where they are formally considered to count, there are still comments that arise discrediting the trick back to having been learned with the assistance of foam and resi. As far as grass landings go, it’s a little easier: you either care or you don’t. The spot is what it is, and if you want to do the rail-hop into a grass hill, then by all means, have at it.
Back to the primary topic at hand, I would like to introduce my final and overall point of this discussion: “switch” and why it matters.
Regular stance on bike is considered either left foot forward, left grind, right spin; or right foot forward, right grind, left spin. Goofy, or “dick-footed,” is when your natural footing and spin direction conflict with each other, such as left foot forward, right grind, left spin; or right foot forward, left grind, right spin.
This is somewhat more complicated than in skateboarding, where left foot forward was deemed regular and right foot forward was deemed goofy. The direction of spin and grind was taken out of the equation and factored solely into frontside and backside. Switch in skateboarding is purely skating with your alternate foot forward.
Until recently, BMX utilized switch in the same manner as skateboarding, to address riding with your alternate foot forward. We also used the word opposite, or “oppo” for short, to define spins, tricks, or grinds to our alternate side or direction.
Within the last few years, there has been a steady shift to using the word switch in place of oppo. In my opinion, and many others, this is fundamentally wrong and these two things have to be different. Most tricks can be done both switch and oppo at the same time. You can do a feeble, an oppo feeble, a switch feeble, and a switch oppo feeble all on the same ledge. You can do a barspin, an oppo barspin, a switch barspin, and a switch oppo barspin. By modern convention, there’s no differentiating as there was in the past, and for clarity these are not alike.
If we are truly past using opposite or “oppo” completely, I stand by the fact that some sort of differentiation needs to remain in place, and the next logical phrases would be frontside and backside. This causes conflict, of course, because it would require renaming other tricks, such as downside whips would become frontside whips. I don’t believe we are past it though; because of the complexity of tricks, directions, and overall possibility within BMX, I don’t understand why we would move away from the switch and opposite convention that has been in place since I started riding BMX.
I can speculate as to a handful of reasons why this shift started to happen, but there’s little value in doing so. I will offer up the suggestion that all of the earlier discussion with regard to style, trick differentiation, and nuances within core BMX tricks may make it overly confusing for those that start riding only with a mild interest to care what the conventions are. What I do know is that it is our responsibility to teach the current and upcoming generations what tricks are called, help others learn, and work together to keep BMX awesome.
I would like to return to the one-footer for a moment, where I said that “[e]ven which foot gets taken off doesn’t affect the trick being called a one-footer” and would like to add that one of those is an opposite one-footer, and it does, in-fact, matter. With that said, let’s all agree to stop using switch in place of oppo and differentiate our tricks accordingly.
Returning to the adage, there are two words that complicate the statement: exactly and alike. Exactly is an adverb defined by Merriam-Webster as “in a manner or measure or to a degree or number that strictly conforms to a fact or condition” or “in every respect.” Alike, on the other hand, is defined as “exhibiting close resemblance without being identical.” I would contend that many snowflakes, especially those that have been created under laboratory conditions, are alike, and to the degree detectable by humans, even under a microscope, maybe be considered exactly alike. Often it comes down to the definitions and technicalities to make these arguments.
So how does this relate to BMX? Let’s consider something as simple as a one-footer. There is a plethora of factors just in this trick that you could make the argument that no two one-footers are exactly alike and you would probably be correct, especially when the focus is not isolated to the leg or foot itself. The more variables that are introduced, the less likely that something could ever be exactly alike. From the standpoint of the trick itself, you have the variation in distance from the pedal, direction of movement, leg position, and speed of execution. Next is what is happening with the foot once removed from the pedal. Are nac-nacs, can-cans, grizz airs, and candy-bars not one-footers? Because of the methods used to execute these different tricks, it makes perfect sense why they are differentiated. What about doing a foot-jam? By all technicalities, the execution of a foot-jam would be a one-footer to foot-jam to one-footer out. However, it’s generally unnecessary to address the one-footer at all as it’s a means of execution for another trick.
Disregarding the established variants of the one-footer, as already addressed prior, it is curious to consider how much variation is considered the same trick. For a trick to be called a one-footer at the highest level, one foot must be removed from the bike. By convention, we have also collectively agreed that the foot must also return to the bike in order to “count” – more on this in a moment. A one-footer lifted straight up from the pedal, straight away from the pedal – dog piss style, downward from the pedal, or slightly forward or backwards are all considered one footers, yet aside from taking a foot off, all look drastically different. The movements of the foot and leg alone play a large role in the style of the one-footer. The introduction of the rest of the body and the bicycle itself add to the variables in the trick. Even which foot gets taken off doesn’t affect the trick being called a one-footer.
So, at what point does the one-footer in the foot-jam example become significant? Nobody would argue with calling a can-can to foot-jam exactly that, yet would generally deem the one-footer insignificant. I propose that it is when a change of motion takes place. The motion from pedal to tire does not need to be addressed, but if the motion is outward, and then inward to the tire, it becomes a one-footer to foot-jam.
The dynamic freedom we allow within the one-footer allows for the development of style. Yet, these nuances begin to be less subtle and often push for trick differentiation, which explains perfectly the candy-bar, can-can, etc. The minimum parameters for a one-footer to become one of these other tricks have been determined, but are not always clearly defined for future riders to learn and understand. Definitions become open to interpretation and become a game of telephone, where many people are either doing the same trick and calling it something different, or saying the same trick name, but executing different maneuvers.
While the discussion so far has focused on the simplest form of a trick and how variations in dynamic movement and style don’t inherently change what a trick is called, I’d now like to switch the discussion to turndowns. The turndown is a relatively simple trick when the handlebars are turned 180 degrees while your upper body moves to the outside of the bike. The turndown is interesting in that there is not distinction between a turndown brought into 180 degrees versus a turndown like those of Chris Doyle, where the handlebars have been turned over 270 degrees and the rider’s body has become entangled in the bike. Visually, these look like very different tricks, and yet, they have the same name; one of them has just been extended further than the other. But at what point are they no longer alike enough to share a name? I’ll counter with the lookback. The lookback and the turndown have nearly no distinguishing factors, aside from a direction of rotation in relative direction to the obstacle being ridden. Does this matter? Are they not the same trick? How do we determine that a turndown cranked to 270 degrees is the same as a turndown turned to the standard 180 degrees, but a turndown and lookback, both at 180 degrees, are not the same?
Crankflips are another interesting talking point here. They can be kicked either with the front foot or back foot. Crankflips are also called kickflips somewhat interchangeably. I am uncertain at the time of writing if these two terms were used originally to differentiate between the two styles of crankflip, or if the terms developed regionally to describe the same trick, done either way. What I can attest to is that I have never heard them differentiated from one another, leading me to believe that it is a regional development to call them either crankflips or kickflips. Whichever the origin happens to be, these tricks are inherently different by method of execution, even though the end results are alike. Is it a different trick or is it just a nuance in execution?
There are countless other tricks that are similar to all of these examples, too. The tabletop, flatty, and invert discussion has been ongoing for years. Barspins and bus-drivers have a grey-area. Tailwhips versus whoppers do as well. It’s extremely difficult to nail down exactly what differentiates a trick sometimes and why it’s different, especially when there is always a counter-argument of style. In my opinion, BMX has historically done a bad job of defining exactly what a trick is or is not. It’s entirely possible that some riders were doing tricks slightly differently for the sole intention of calling it something else.
As an aside, all of this discussion so far has been about differentiating tricks or stylistic nuances, but what about a trick “counting.” By conventional standards, a trick doesn’t count if your foot hits the ground. Well, unless of course you intended it to hit the ground. When BMX is looked at as art, it becomes harder to lay out specific ground rules and standards. Art is in the eye of the beholder, and if you as a rider want to put your foot down before, during, or after your trick, then that is your prerogative. But more interestingly, at what point does a trick not count. There are plenty of discussions out there about grass landings not counting, resi not counting, or skatepark rails not counting. Resi is probably one of the more interesting topics to discuss here, as there is a negative attitude that immediately comes out as soon as it is in a clip. From the beginning of a trick idea in a foam pit, it is abundantly clear than landing in a foam pit is not equal to landing and rolling away on a real ramp. The development of a resi landing bridges this gap and provides the ability to roll away from your tricks after learning them into the foam. Nearly every resi clip has at least one passive aggressive comments, such as “to resi though…” or “do it to a real landing…” Then, when you do see these tricks done to a real ramp, where they are formally considered to count, there are still comments that arise discrediting the trick back to having been learned with the assistance of foam and resi. As far as grass landings go, it’s a little easier: you either care or you don’t. The spot is what it is, and if you want to do the rail-hop into a grass hill, then by all means, have at it.
Back to the primary topic at hand, I would like to introduce my final and overall point of this discussion: “switch” and why it matters.
Regular stance on bike is considered either left foot forward, left grind, right spin; or right foot forward, right grind, left spin. Goofy, or “dick-footed,” is when your natural footing and spin direction conflict with each other, such as left foot forward, right grind, left spin; or right foot forward, left grind, right spin.
This is somewhat more complicated than in skateboarding, where left foot forward was deemed regular and right foot forward was deemed goofy. The direction of spin and grind was taken out of the equation and factored solely into frontside and backside. Switch in skateboarding is purely skating with your alternate foot forward.
Until recently, BMX utilized switch in the same manner as skateboarding, to address riding with your alternate foot forward. We also used the word opposite, or “oppo” for short, to define spins, tricks, or grinds to our alternate side or direction.
Within the last few years, there has been a steady shift to using the word switch in place of oppo. In my opinion, and many others, this is fundamentally wrong and these two things have to be different. Most tricks can be done both switch and oppo at the same time. You can do a feeble, an oppo feeble, a switch feeble, and a switch oppo feeble all on the same ledge. You can do a barspin, an oppo barspin, a switch barspin, and a switch oppo barspin. By modern convention, there’s no differentiating as there was in the past, and for clarity these are not alike.
If we are truly past using opposite or “oppo” completely, I stand by the fact that some sort of differentiation needs to remain in place, and the next logical phrases would be frontside and backside. This causes conflict, of course, because it would require renaming other tricks, such as downside whips would become frontside whips. I don’t believe we are past it though; because of the complexity of tricks, directions, and overall possibility within BMX, I don’t understand why we would move away from the switch and opposite convention that has been in place since I started riding BMX.
I can speculate as to a handful of reasons why this shift started to happen, but there’s little value in doing so. I will offer up the suggestion that all of the earlier discussion with regard to style, trick differentiation, and nuances within core BMX tricks may make it overly confusing for those that start riding only with a mild interest to care what the conventions are. What I do know is that it is our responsibility to teach the current and upcoming generations what tricks are called, help others learn, and work together to keep BMX awesome.
I would like to return to the one-footer for a moment, where I said that “[e]ven which foot gets taken off doesn’t affect the trick being called a one-footer” and would like to add that one of those is an opposite one-footer, and it does, in-fact, matter. With that said, let’s all agree to stop using switch in place of oppo and differentiate our tricks accordingly.
Responses
"Orange"
9.24.19
I would like to propose the idea of dominant and non dominant with regards to the one footer. Here is why. I ride right foot forward and rotate to the left. My right (front) foot is the one I would naturally take off doing a one footer. If l do a downside footplant l find it much easier to plant my right ( dominant) foot and rotate opposite than l do to rotate regular and plant my non dominant foot. So this would make the usual way l do downside footplants a dominant opposite downside footplant and the other way a non dominant regular footplant. The same can be said of one foot tables. I've also met a couple of people who's dominant side for grinds is what would usually be the opposite side for most meaning if they were riding a mini ramp and manualed one deck and then did a peg grind on the other coping, the grind would be non dominant even though they were turning the same direction as the manual. If they did a grind in the opposite direction the grind would be dominant.
9.24.19
I would like to propose the idea of dominant and non dominant with regards to the one footer. Here is why. I ride right foot forward and rotate to the left. My right (front) foot is the one I would naturally take off doing a one footer. If l do a downside footplant l find it much easier to plant my right ( dominant) foot and rotate opposite than l do to rotate regular and plant my non dominant foot. So this would make the usual way l do downside footplants a dominant opposite downside footplant and the other way a non dominant regular footplant. The same can be said of one foot tables. I've also met a couple of people who's dominant side for grinds is what would usually be the opposite side for most meaning if they were riding a mini ramp and manualed one deck and then did a peg grind on the other coping, the grind would be non dominant even though they were turning the same direction as the manual. If they did a grind in the opposite direction the grind would be dominant.