With skateboarding now in its second year at the Olympic Games, can the sport stay true to its subcultural roots?
In 2014, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) identified a problem: young people were no longer tuning into the games. With TV viewership on the decline, there was a belief that the Olympics were stale, outdated and unfit for the future. The IOC’s response was an attempt to modernise by introducing ‘newer’ sports that young people could better identify with, such as surfing, breakdancing, and skateboarding.
Initially, however, it seemed that while the Olympics wanted skateboarding, skateboarding didn’t want the Olympics. “I was quite shocked when they first introduced skateboarding to the Olympics as I knew instantly it would be contentious,” Jamie Reed, a Manchester local and skater who helps run a DIY skate space, tells me. “Skateboarding is a culturally sensitive topic and I think industries getting involved can make skaters quick to reject things.”
But skaters, as with any community, are far from a homogeneous bloc. For Lucy Lavery, a member of Blackpool-based SLAG, a collective of female-identifying, queer and non-binary skaters, skateboarding’s inclusion in the Olympics felt like a step forward. “I noticed that many people around me were not too pleased about it, but I didn’t want their views to influence my own perspective. To me, it always seemed like a positive development,” she says.
Skateboarding’s journey to the summer games was far from straightforward. In 1993, when Thrasher Magazine plastered a large tombstone on the cover of its October issue and declared the death of the industry, you’d have been hard-pressed to have predicted its wider mainstream sporting acceptance some 30 years later.
But following the dark days of the early 90s, when popularity for skateboarding waned and recessions decimated much of the industry, large-scale televised competitions began to appear. The sports channel ESPN founded the X Games to showcase what it was calling ‘action sports’, skateboarding included. The games were medalled, like the Olympics. Skate contests had always been scored on rehearsed runs, mimicking gymnastics or ice skating and devoid of spontaneity, but the X Games upped the ante on sporting spectacle: higher, faster and longer was the name of the game.
“I remember the X Games before I started skating,” Reed says. “It almost felt like another genre.” This ran antithetical to the ethos that street skateboarding had carefully adopted and resistance to corporate-backed contests became ingrained. This still runs deep. “There has been a general disdain for the fact that companies have entered the space purely for profit without supporting the wider community,” says Patrick Crich, a co-founder of community interest group Skate Manchester.
In 2016, skateboarding was approved to appear at the 2020 Tokyo games and is now back at this year’s Olympics in Paris. 16-year-old Lola Tambling will be competing for Team GB this summer. “I’m excited and it’s still a weird feeling knowing that I’m going, but I can’t wait,” she tells me.
Despite the conflicted feelings of many skateboarders, there was a general optimism that the Olympics would highlight more female, LGBTQ+ and POC skateboarders and collectives. “From my perspective, skateboarding has become significantly more popular since its inclusion in the Olympics, and it’s been great to see so many women pick up a board and give it a go,” Lavery tells me. Skateboarding’s higher profile at the summer games has inspired a whole new generation of girls and women into a space traditionally and heavily occupied by men. Rachel, another member of SLAG, says that the Olympics has helped the community flourish. “I’ve seen the collective in Blackpool grow and grow, and I’d like to think this is because we are seeing skating become more recognised as an impressive sport.” Tambling agrees: “It’s making skateboarding more mainstream and brings more opportunities for sure.”
There was also hope that skateboarding’s higher profile might improve funding for local spaces. Neil Ellis, Head of Engagement at Skateboard GB, is optimistic. “More – and better – skateparks are getting built, more people are picking up a board and trying skateboarding,” he says. This may not have happened without the backing of a specialised national body like Skateboard GB and without the spotlight the Olympics has given the body.
“Skateboarding has become significantly more popular since its inclusion in the Olympics, and it’s been great to see so many women pick up a board and give it a go” – Lucy Lavery
Skateboarding’s representation at the Olympics has arguably cemented its position as a ‘sport’ in the eyes of the viewing public. But the proliferation of new, sometimes costly-to-enter skateparks fails to account for the nuances of street skating’s spontaneity, fun and beloved lack of competition. Skateboarders love shape and form; the minute ways that hands are positioned as someone lands, the choice of tricks in a run, the specific type of obstacle picked for a trick, foot positioning and the bagginess of someone’s pants, can all feel more vital than the ‘sport’ of it all. “It presents the activity in a very sanitised way without the facets we as skaters love. We have had to combat the idea that skateboarding takes place in confined areas like skateparks,” Crich tells me.
Olympic skateboarding’s impact on the business side of the industry has also been negligible. A number of big brands have gone bust in recent years, while local skate shops are closing at an increasing rate. Just last week, Baddest skate shop in Brixton announced it was struggling, citing issues around cost of living, Brexit and the COVID-induced economic downturn, bringing the thriving hub to the brink of closure. The Park Skate Shop in Bristol also closed this year, while Norwich-based Drug Store, which had been serving the local skate community for 18 years, is shutting its doors for good in September. It seems that at a time when skateboarding is at its most visible, the industry is suffering more than ever.
While the smaller brands and shops are struggling, the larger companies have been profiting. “I tend to think that any increased attention on skating only goes to benefit the big players […] think big shoe companies, chain skate shops and sponsors outside of the industry.” There has been open hostility to Samsung’s highly visible sponsorship of Skateboard GB. The brand remains on some BDS boycott lists, while Crich cites recent issues around unethical work practices which have led to Samsung’s South Korean workers going on indefinite strike. Skateboarders are rightfully untrustworthy of these potentially exploitative partnerships as they tend to bring little lasting impact to the community. “Large investments going into these events feels different to corporations getting involved in consulted grassroots schemes to help celebrate scenes,” Reed says.
Skateboarding’s future at the games is secure until 2028, when it will again feature in Los Angeles. “The level of skating since the last Olympics has progressed so much that I expect this will continue and by the next games, the creativity of tricks and runs will be phenomenal,” Neil says. To some, 2028 may feel like a homecoming: skateboarding at the pinnacle of mainstream sport in the state where it was invented, where it was mythologised and where most of the industry is still based. Yet, far away from the sunshine and glamour of California, it’s not clear whether any benefit will be felt by the grassroots scene. “I see a future for skateboarding at the Olympics, but I tend to think its future will remain removed from actual local skate communities on the ground,” Crich says.
It’s not clear whether the Olympics themselves have felt the benefit of skateboarding’s inclusion. The Tokyo Olympics were the least watched on record, failing to aid the IOC’s stated aim of future-proofing the games for a new generation. It remains to be seen whether viewership of the Paris games will be any better. Yet, there remains glimmers of hope. “The visibility of positive role models at the Olympics has made the sport seem more accessible and achievable for everyone,” Lucy says. Skateboarding remains highly distinct for each individual, but perhaps skateboarding the sport, skateboarding the art and skateboarding the lifestyle can all co-exist at once, despite the conflict. Reed thinks so. “Everyone has differences between them, but at the end of the day we have a fundamental interest in skateboarding and can all enjoy it together, whichever form that takes.”