I was perched on the edge of the roll-in, 70 feet or so above ground. A five story drop awaited me but I felt nothing, I was numb. All I had to do was lean forward and go, but I was done giving a fuck. There must've been 100,000 people in attendance but I could not hear them, nor could I see them. Behind me, the live broadcast monitor was a muffled annoyance that barely infiltrated my ears.

Nothing mattered; not my house in the hills, not the screaming fans below and not the guys behind me waiting their turn. They didn't like me anyway, I'm surprised anyone did. I was an asshole and I knew it. At 22 years of age, I had managed to piss off just about anyone close to me and the media couldn't get enough of it.

I was angry, or at least anger is what the sadness had morphed into. What good was all this money? What good was all this comfort? My mom was dying and there was nothing that I, or anyone else on this planet, could do for her. The cancer had ravaged her spine and spread to her brain. It was just a matter of time. She was alone and here I was, 900 miles away, on top of this fucking mega ramp. For what? I felt helpless.

"Any second now folks. I gotta say Tim, this hold up is quite unusual," says one of the broadcasters.

"It absolutely is Rick. Skaters don't like to think about it that much, they usually just go."

"Well Tim, the five-time and reigning champion certainly isn't a stranger to this competition. He's done this run hundreds, if not thousands, of times."

"That is correct my friend. As most people know, Mike Alvarez has the biggest mega ramp in the world, right in his own backyard."

"Must be one hell of a backyard Tim!"

"I'm sure it is pal! I'm sure it is!"

I must've spaced out, I'd been up here long enough to raise concern. "Whenever you're ready asshole!", someone yelled behind me, snapping me back to reality.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I took a deep breath, and without turning, flicked off the guys behind me. Leaning forward just and inch, I let go and let gravity do its job. I felt my board connect to the ramp as I dropped 50 feet at a 45 degree angle. 'Wooosh!', I heard that familiar sound as I moved upwards of 40 mph. I was totally winging this run, with no clue what tricks I'd be pursuing. At this point I was just going through the motions, and there was no trick I could not do.

Headed into "the gap", legs slightly bent and ankles steady, I transitioned into a tuck as I got some lift. I grabbed the board toe-side, in between my legs with my front hand. I turned backside, twice, in mid air and landed on the smooth decline ... a Weddle 720 always feels natural. And now what? I have to give them something for the big finish. A 1080? How about a 1280? It's only been done once. Fuck it. You want big air? I'll give you big air.

I think that was what set me aside from the rest; big air. I could launch myself so high off the quarter pipe that I had enough time to pull something off before descending. 25 feet, 27 feet ... 30 feet. Sometimes I feel I can will it, like, on a celular level.

"Woah!, beautiful 720 from Alvarez. He's got the speed, what will he do now?", asks a broadcaster.

I started my rotations when the back wheels passed the lip of the ramp, late by regular standards. Again, in a Weddle grab, I did one, and then two turns on the way up. For a split second, I suspended in air as I faced down at what felt like a 70 foot drop. One turn, then two on my way down. Easy. Now, lets land this and go home.

"Oh my Go...", the broadcaster wasn't allowed to finish his sentence.

My front wheels caught the lip of the ramp, catapulting me towards the floor with violent force. There I lay face up, my twisted body lifeless, posed in an unnatural way. I was staring at myself, as I slowly floated upwards. A gash had torn open my cheekbone, and a thick red puddle formed under my head. The paramedics tore open my pants, exposing jagged bone through the skin of my leg. No one else helped, not the other skaters, not the promoters ... no one. Like I said, I wasn't surprised.

Was I dead? I floated higher and higher, I could see myself getting smaller and the entire ramp came into frame. Higher I went as the arena came into view. I could see Aspen and plots of land with their respective boundaries. I closed my eyes as I disappeared into the clouds. I felt rest ... sweet rest. Then, I was gone.