
Ryan Sheckler -- the 18-year-old street skater who moves like he's got wings (and can't seem to keep a shirt on for more than five minutes on his MTV reality show,
Life of Ryan) -- gets pinned down on
the cover of the new ESPN magazine, yet one more notch in the boy's quest for global domination:
Sheckler's willingness to acknowledge his Hollywood-size ambition in a sport that pretends it doesn't have any sets him apart. From other riders. From (male) spectators at contests. From anyone who objects to his fame and fortune and resents the fact that while most skaters earn thousands—pros with a signature board or shoe make healthy six-figure incomes—Sheckler earns millions. "I get 'Sellout' a lot," he says.
Of course there are the obligatory mo' money, mo' problems:
But there are days he gets unbearably manic, dizzy, irritable. He longs for it all to stop, to be still. On those days, Sheckler gets into his Mercedes and drives as fast as he can ("I like speed") into the open landscape. Sometimes he checks into a hotel alone—no phone, no TV—and just sits in the room until he can breathe again. "I just go away. I need time to be quiet. It just happens. It makes me an a—hole to be with, I guess." He sighs. "It's not like depression or anything. I just deal with so much bulls— all day. I can feel overwhelmed. But then again, I never want it to stop."
Even his friends on the scene point the finger right back at Ryan:
To the real world, Sheckler is a hot guy who happens to skate. But to the skate world, he's Paris Hilton on wheels.
"His show adds a lot to his problems," says [pro street skater Jereme] Rogers. "It's like a skateboarding Laguna Beach. He cries on TV. They latch onto that."
The couple episodes of his show I caught on a recent MTV binge left me with the general impression he's a bratty boy -- but also ballsy and damn good at what he does. What do you say, dudes? Jackass jock like all the rest or special straight boy?