as he stared into his reflection in the grease dripping from the ‘meat’. He was so completely focussed that you could almost hear the cassette freewheel cogs clacking away. He had the thousand yard stare that Saturday night revellers have when coursing the kebab menu in the early hours. His regretful self contemplation seemed to drown out the rumble of the passing tram and the pneumatic drillers nearby and replace it with questions of what could have been if he didn’t trap himself daily from 9 to 5.
In exactly the same way a rider sees a spot and hates passing it by because they didn’t choose their bike that morning. Or how the obligatory skatepark chav regrets his choice of mini scooters and L skin perfection when staring at a knobbly kneed BMXer moto airing the metal quarter. A new problem presents itself on the perfectly smooth blocks outside the capital one building, opposite the train station. They are begging to be sessioned but because of the chunky dude in a blue collared shirt (probably named Wayne) anything but hit-and-run tactics are prohibited. Sounding his wobbly arrival with a, ‘you know you ain’t supposed to ride here’, and to close the deal what I can only roughly translate through the colloquial mutterings as a phrase resembling, ‘youths today’ and ‘lack respect’.
But I ask this, wouldn’t a rider of any calibre be more disrespectful to pass a spot and ignore it? To reject creativity and decide to wish or forget instead of imagine and attempt?
Aaron Mossop
The other day I was wandering the town trying to avoid bumping into manic shoppers whilst eating a savoury snack from a well known bakery, when I noticed something not out of the ordinary but it caught my eye anyway. A young bloke in a tent of a suit, shimmering in the lunch time sun was sitting on a metal bench perfectly placed and ready to grind. However he was oblivious to this fact, choosing instead to hungrily devour his burger meal. I saw a ray of enlightenment and self reflection, well, either that or resentment 
After doing a BMX 'zine for ten years (1987 - 1996) FATBMX made it on the internet. The year was 1998. Here to stay.