Thrasher skate and destroy font pro#

Thrasher skate and destroy font pro#

The name came from punk rock pro skater Duane Peters. Instead of recruiting publishing veterans, Vitello and Swenson tapped skaters to provide the vision and voice of Thrasher. The San Francisco based publication turns 40 in 2021. They eschewed the hard-news style reporting on competitions that used to fill issues of Skateboarder and focused more on the culture surrounding skateboarding - the times when it was just a group of friends at a backyard ramp trading off on runs while punk rock played on the boombox. Seeing that there was still a viable skateboarder market, the two pooled their resources to fill the void left by SkateboarderвЂ™s mutation and start their own magazine. вЂњThere are no rules, and if there are any, itвЂ™s you and your buddies creating them,вЂќ Tony Vitello says. What really drew him to it, according to his son Tony, was the freedom it provided. Vitello, the sport-obsessed Argentinian who moved to San Francisco at age 9 and learned English from listening to Giants games, discovered skateboarding in his 30s and fell in love with it. The name they chose for their new product symbolized what they loved about skateboarding and life in general: Independent Trucks. It didnвЂ™t sell, so the crew moved onto a new model that was more like the other trucks of the day but more durable. and started making the Stroker Truck, a heavy chunk of metal that took its inspiration from an automobile suspension. In 1976 they opened a foundry in Hunters Point called Ermico Enterprises Inc. Just two years earlier, the two longtime friends and former Harley-Davidson racing team mechanics had built their version of a skateboard truck - the metal part that connects the wheels to the wooden board. Vitello and Swenson needed skateboarding to stick around.

вЂњThere was some cool photography on stuff, but skateboarders donвЂ™t give a s- about horseback riding and roller disco.вЂќ вЂњIt sucked,вЂќ longtime Thrasher writer Chris вЂњWezвЂќ Lundry says. Worst of all for those who still loved the sport was that Skateboarder, the biggest publication covering skating at that time, changed its name to Action Now and expanded its coverage to other outdoor activities like motocross and horseback riding. Only the truly hard-core skaters stuck with it. This was in 1980, when skate parks were closing all over and skateboards were stashed away in closets. ThrasherвЂ™s story begins with Fausto Vitello and Eric Swenson, who decided to start publishing a skateboarding magazine when everyone thought the вЂњfadвЂќ was over. вЂњWe take a lot of pride in the city, even with the Google kooks leaving and talking s-.вЂќ Jake Phelps, the former editor in chief of Thrasher magazine. вЂњWe love San Francisco,вЂќ Thrasher webmaster and podcast host Greg вЂњSchmittyвЂќ Smith says. But this is couched in truth, and Thrasher Magazine is a big reason why. Before he died, former editor-in-chief Jake Phelps called San Francisco вЂњthe center of skateboardingвЂќ - a strong opinion from someone known for making grand statements.

The city has been the magazineвЂ™s home for all of its 40 years, with offices in Hunters Point. In many ways, celebrating ThrasherвЂ™s history is also recognizing the impact of San Francisco and the Bay Area on skateboarding. If the Thrasher staff could, theyвЂ™d probably host one of their Bust or Bail sessions, the antithesis of ESPNвЂ™s X-Games, where skaters compete for prize money by skating gnarly structures out in the wild - not professionally made ramps. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, the magazine bailed on holding in-person celebrations.