CSC x High Rollers: The Celtic Exchange
The Celtic Exchange
Words by Conor Charleson
I can’t count how many pub-chats I have had where a bold idea is put forth and, fortified by their drink of choice, everybody agrees that the idea absolutely must come to fruition. Usually the next day the hazy claims are rinsed from the memory bank by a cold glass of tap water and people move on with their lives, which is one small part of the reason why the existence of this project is so special. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so personally invested in a project which, given the context could be misconstrued as nationalism, but actually has its roots in teenage nostalgia and years of frustration with the structure of the UK skate industry.
If you open any of your social media apps, it is easy to find countless videos of hardcore Brits failing to answer questions regarding the basic geography of the UK and Ireland. If the “proud” people of these nations are clueless about their native lands, then it begs the question: Globally, what level of understanding do people have of the geography of the UK and Ireland and its various cultures?
Conor Charleson, frontside blunt, Penarth, Wales. Ph. Mike “Trix” Ridout
Pretty much every time I leave the UK, I have a conversation that ends up like this:
“No… not England. Wales. You know Wales?”
“Wells?”
If I’m in France or Spain I’ll have a go at “Galles…” but otherwise:
“Nah it’s like a small country next to England. Still in the UK though.”
“Ah UK, England.”
“Nah…”
Then I get Google Maps out, zoom in on the UK and trace my finger up and down along the Welsh border. Admittedly, following it up with a conversation about currently living in London doesn’t help. I moved there over a decade ago now and refused my offer at Swansea University, in South Wales, because I wanted to be where “the action” was.
Paul Jenkins, wallie melon, Cardiff. Ph. Mike ‘Trix’ Ridout
I was, and I suppose still am, part of the problem. In my 18-year-old mind at the time, London sat atop a pedestal, towering above the other British cities. The cool brands were based there, the pros lived there, events were held and parties were financed. Every major brand had done the classic London trip, hitting all the expected spots and putting on a demo underneath a mass of concrete safeguarding against the inevitable rain. London was where the world formed its perception of British skateboarding. Videos produced in London still get far more views and engagement than anything produced anywhere else in the UK. The effect is so inflated that mediocre Instagram reels at internationally recognised undercrofts get far more attention than amazing full-length projects from English cities outside the M25. This disparity in engagement increases again by an order of magnitude when you examine the online contributions from other nations in the UK. As a result, many talented skateboarders are often overlooked if they aren’t London based, as often brands consider the investment of their sponsorship only worthy of skateboarders residing in the English capital and associated with the scene there. Marketability seems to be inherently linked to a London postcode.
Gabe Gorman, kickflip, Swansea, Wales. Ph. Mike ‘Trix’ Ridout
In some small ways the Anglo-dominance of skate media and industry funding echoes the historical relationship between England and the Celtic nations, with many periods of conflict and eventual forced assimilation with the culturally-destructive whims of the English ruling class. Though the English were often successful, they were always met with fierce resistance.
The longer-removed I was from my scene at home, the more I grew to appreciate how special the more intimate skate scenes are. Especially as often, all the work that goes into projects and videos are for the audience that resides there, even if it’s no more than a hundred people. As sweet as the sentiment of this is, I often fantasised about being able to share what I thought was unique about the small scene I grew up in, with the wider world.
Cillian Fitzpatrick, crooked grind, Swansea. Ph. Mike ‘Trix’ Ridout
When I visited my family in Ireland back in 2022 (my dad’s side is all from County Mayo) I stopped off in Dublin for a few nights with my board, crashed with Michael McMaster and skated with all the guys from High Rollers. The scene reminded me so much of home. The parallels were numerous. A small city, where locals push around the same spots again and again, hoping they’ll be struck by some unseen potential, with days usually finishing at the pub. One or two individuals put the entirety of the city’s skate scene on their back, shooting, filming, providing them with a skate shop and spinning all these plates at their own expense. Unpredictable weather, spots with a certain low-rise, gritty charm and the risk of being recognised by security guards as a repeat offender all made me feel very much at home.
Conversations with everybody about Ireland’s place in skateboarding echoed conversations I’d grown up with in Wales, but Ireland itself is in a unique position due to historical and geographical factors. Historically and proudly independent from the UK, but also spatially distant from continental Europe, and the union to which it belongs, means Ireland’s contributions to skateboarding often slip through the net of the more influential channels of skate media.
Luke Kroon, alley-oop fakie 5-0 grind, Dublin. Ph. Naoise McCarthy
I planned to visit Dublin again, but not alone. I wanted to bring other skateboarders there to experience the city, culture and the hospitality of the local skateboarders. Fast forward to a Keen industry event at Spit and Sawdust skatepark (a must visit for everybody at least once) in early 2024, where all the shops carrying Keen brands were invited to Wales for food, booze and skateboarding. Naoise McCarthy, who owns High Rollers skate shop in Dublin, had flown over for the event and brought a few of the younger Irish heads with him.
Shane San Agustin, kickflip, Swansea. Ph. Naoise McCarthy
It was the end of the day. Most people had already started the long drives back to their respective homes, bar a few stragglers pumped full of Paulaner Pils, loitering about and the High Rollers guys who were flying out the following day. I was tipsily chewing Naoise’s ear off about how cool it would be for them to come to South Wales for longer and to bring more skateboarders and really explore Cardiff and the surrounding towns and cities. This was nothing new coming from me, I’ve often tried to convince people to visit Wales over the years, but the difference this time was that Naoise was actually really keen. This progressed to chatting about the reverse scenario, bringing the Welsh to Ireland… “Like some sort of Celtic exchange program,” I slurred.
Cillian Fitzpatrick, backside 180 kickflip, Caerphilly. Ph. Naoise McCarthy
This was overheard by the benevolent James Owens, aka “Jim O”, who owns Cardiff Skateboard Club. Jim O had played an absolute blinder on the internet a decade earlier, and had been using his financial successes to bolster the Welsh scene, providing facilities for skateboarders and space for people to take up skateboarding for the first time, as well as organising events throughout the year. Swaying a little himself, the conversation was left at “that would be a great idea, we should definitely do it,” which as you’ll be aware, usually never leads to anything.
Hundreds of DMs, a couple of group chats and a few Zoom meetings later and I find myself walking through Dublin airport where I spot the ethereal, West-Walian Lloyd Houston, enjoying a coffee who flew in a little earlier from Vilnius. We were shortly joined by the rest of our group, who were chosen to represent, established, unseen and up-and-coming Welsh skateboarding, Paul Jenkins, Ben Morris, Gabe Gorman, Jimmy Silver and Atlantic-Drifter, Chris Jones. Mike “Trix” Ridout was on content duty, having left the entirety of Cardiff’s skateboarding economy in the hands of some trusted locals.
Michael McMaster, 5-0 to fakie, Dublin. Ph. Naoise McCarthy
We met our Irish counterparts at a classic, canal-adjacent ledge spot that had been host to a DC ‘King of Dublin” event some years earlier and it was clear after the first evening that everybody was willing to give the project everything they could in the limited time frames we had. Backing up Lloyd and Gabe’s first day contributions, the memory cards rapidly filled with clips of Dave Murphy, Daniel Carroll, Luke Kroon, Shane San Agustin, Cillian Fitzpatrick and Mikey McMaster himself, all corralled by scene father-figure Naoise McCarthy, who joined Trix, both juggling responsibilities for all stills and clips.
I was determined for the project to be as good as it could be, not only because I knew it would be the first time a lot of people would see Irish and Welsh skateboarding on Free, but also because it was the first time I’d ever been in charge of a budget for a whole project. Not everybody was used to having somebody telling them that maybe something wasn’t worth doing with the limited time we had, or that they should try something harder. Although I tried to bear that in mind, at some point the guys started comparing me to Caesar, giving a thumbs up or down on what was worth filming, and I tried to de-Magee-ify my approach a bit.
Dave Murphy, backside bigspin. Cardiff. Ph. Naoise McCarthy
Still, as a result of the little bit of pressure I was applying, not a huge amount of drinking or partying happened to conjure up any crazy stories, as everybody was pretty determined to make the most of each day. Bonds were formed at the spots, rather than at the bar. So, instead of describing the intricacies of every in-joke that “you had to be there” for, I will instead direct you to the YouTube clip, “The Original Crichton Leprechaun” and challenge you to spot any amateur sketches of the amateur sketch hidden within the video.
Considering that not everybody could make it for all ten days, four people suffered quite severe injuries, unpredictable climates, and some difficult spots, the group did unbelievably well. A little healthy competition left the final score of 32 – 35 clips to Ireland, which is insane for two five-day shop trips, which was then all edited down by Jimmy Silver, who has obsessed over every minute detail.
Daniel Carroll, heelflip, Dublin. Ph. Naoise McCarthy
It will be nice if the finished project, in its own small way, helps to erode the somewhat intangible, yet glaringly obvious barriers that seem to divert online traffic away from investigating smaller scenes and towards the comfortably entrenched content capitals. Hopefully, in the future, this project will inspire people to start investing in Irish and Welsh skateboarders and also to consider Dublin and South Wales as viable destinations for their next skate trip. You will be welcomed with open arms. Unless you’re English 😉
Dave Murphy, backside smith grind, Dublin. Ph. Mike ‘Trix’ Ridout
