New York tales

By TMX Archives on 16th Sep 04

Motocross

His new pad in the Big Apple may not be the luxury apartment he was expecting but at least JK can still score! FROM AN early age I always knew I'd end up in New York City. As a child, indelible images were seared into my brain by movies, songs and television shows. By my 20th viewing of Ghostbusters (recorded from HBO with the naughty words and all) I was completely in love with the sights and sounds of the city. Although I'd never been there, I felt like I knew what it took to be a real-life New Yorker. My first visit was a massive success - a trip with my college radio station to take in CMJ, a week-long orgy of live music. Of course, it wasn't the real New York experience - I was still very much a tourist - but I had my first taste of the real thing. And I was hungry for more. Through the years I mentally prepared myself for the day I would call New York home. I'd devour any film that took place in the city, be it Taxi Driver or Muppets Take Manhattan. I'd read up on the neighborhoods, keeping track of the scene and the (frightening) cost of renting an apartment. I would return to 'my' city as often as I could and each time it got more and more difficult to leave. For the past 10 years now I've lived in Morgantown, West Virginia - a nice place but try as I might, I could never lose the sense that I belonged in the big league, dodging traffic and fighting crowds on the subway. Only a couple months ago, I finally got the all-clear to move there and set up a home office. In my mind, I was there. But no matter how prepared you might be for a change this large, it's often difficult to be up to the task straight away. I immediately started dropping the word to all my friends past and present, regaling them with predictions for my future. I'd finish work, grab a quick shower and walk out the door into the City That Never Sleeps, adventure never more than a few feet away. I scored a fantastic (and fantastically not-cheap) apartment in the edgy East Village, complete with its own washer and dryer (a rarity), a fireplace (a bigger rarity) and a fully refurbished kitchen. All new appliances, man! Surely it couldn't get any better! Why am I boring you with all this? Well, for the past month, no story in American motocross has been more talked about than the case of young Mike Alessi. He, too, knew from a tender age exactly where he wanted to end up - on the podium. He got there early enough, too, as the winner of the first ever KTM Junior Supercross Challenge that has become such an integral part of the US supercross tour. Through the years Mike, along with his very fast brother Jeff (and his always controversial father Tony), have been preparing for The Show. At one point, Mike had '2006' embroidered into the back of his pants, the tentative date of his pro debut. Not long after, that six had dropped to a four and he decided to hit the big time at age 16. Immediately, press releases started pouring forth from the Alessi camp. Mike - or, more specifically, Tony - was making big predictions. Freakish predictions. Mike was going to win, or at least podium, his first pro race - the AMA/Chevrolet US National at Millville, Minnesota. He had considerable success in a few pro-am events against some very big names but his (father's) mouth continually got him in trouble, making enemies of Ryan Hughes and several other top pros. Tony even said in an interview that Ricky Carmichael's riding style was sloppy and that young Mike's superior technique could see him give RC a run for his money. Before long, the story had almost grown too big for its own good. It began devouring itself. The smack-talk from the Alessi camp had made Mike a target - people like Mike Brown were already gunning for the kid. The Alessis' response? T-shirts with bull's-eyes and 'Believe The Hype' printed on them. It was almost comical but it was great theatre. With Millville inching closer, the anticipation was out of control. Internet message boards began to overflow, to the point that people had to put off-topic disclaimers in the subject line if their post didn't involve some aspect of Alessidom. And then, finally, after all the build-up, it was time for the moment of truth. All the talk was over, all the dreaming, all the bragging and prediction-making. It was, as my boss called it, 'put-up time'. How did it go? Well, my washer and dryer don't work. Nor do the oven/stove, nor the dishwasher. The fireplace is 'decorative' - in other words, fake! Despite the fact that the previous tenant left his phone behind for me, there is no actual phone jack to be found anywhere in the apartment - not that I could hear myself speak with all the construction going on all day long next door. And at night, the streets are alive with the sound of the Hells Angels, whose NYC headquarters are one door over from mine and who seem to have discovered a way to harness the sound of a freight train and squeeze it into custom Harleys. With all those disappointments, though, it hasn't been all bad. On my first night in town, I went to a bar on my block, had a few Stellas, met a nice girl and got her number. That's one point for me - and one point more than Mike Alessi scored in his debut. Believe the hype! Jeff Kocan, courtesy RacerX PS Two rounds later Mikey was back for Steel City and went 5-4 for third overall. But my washer still ain't working...

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