Robin Laananen
Pro rider Marni Yamada waits for the snow to fall.
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YOU'VE SEEN THEM on TV, most likely during late-night channel surfing when sleep won't come, probably on ESPN2 or some nether zone of cable. With long hair poking from beneath their helmets, baggy outfits flapping in the breeze, they careen together down a steep, snowy, undulating course, through gates, banked turns, washboard sections, and massive jumps that send them soaring for big air. Jockeying for position, there can be some hard elbows and NASCAR-like positioning in the bends; wipeouts and pileups are common during the descent.
Then the goggles come off at the finish line, revealing cute young boarder babes who smile telegenically into the camera and press their company-logoed snowboards into the shot. Who are they, and what the hell are they doing?
It's called boardercross (like motocross, get it?), and it's one of the most popular competitive forms of the sport. But don't look for it at February's Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. When the International Olympic Committee belatedly accepted snowboarding into the '98 Games at Nagano, it included only two categories: giant slalom and freestyle, a.k.a. half-pipe. So instead of heading to S.L.C., the top local athletes in the world's fastest-growing winter sport are turning to the pro circuit in search of endorsement deals and modeling gigs. Especially for an ambitious young female boarder, the career path resembles that of the Hollywood starlet seeking her big break. Sure, you have to be good, but it's more about being discovered.
"PEOPLE DON'T APPROACH you; you have to approach them," according to 23-year-old pro rider Marni Yamada of North Seattle, whose business card reads "Professional Snowboarder and Sports Model." She's talking about auditioning for the snowboard equipment manufacturers, each of which sponsors an official team of big-name athletes—just like a little Hollywood studio with its talent under exclusive contract.
In this snow star system, companies including local concerns K2 and Ride splash their teams—and wares—across full-page magazine ads. Each team usually numbers about a half dozen, with one designated woman to serve as de facto pinup girl. You've got to be a good female rider to grab that coveted spot, but looks help, too. Call it the Anna Kournikova effect: Not winning Wimbledon is no obstacle to endorsement deals when you're a hottie. Sexist? Sure, but that's showbiz for you.
Young, attractive, wired, and well-spoken, Yamada fits the marketing profile. She's also ranked fifth in the world and first in the U.S. pro boardercross rankings—after only four seasons on a snowboard! (The former collegiate ski racer developed her taste for competition on the slopes of Stevens Pass.) No wonder that she's earned the sponsorship of Germany-based Nitro Snowboards, which is trying to make inroads in the U.S. She also has to hustle to augment her portfolio with other sponsors—including local players Drake (bindings) and Northwave (boots).
"I've sent 20 companies r鳵m鳬" says Yamada. "I have some bites, and that's great. You have to pursue it, put energy forth. I'm starting to realize that also with the actual winter season and actually working the winter season—instead of just going out riding all the time."
If that sounds like the voice of an entrepreneur running her own one-woman shop, that's essentially what Yamada is: a free agent affiliated with only her sponsors. That business extends from mid-November to May and involves frequent travel to Europe and even Japan, she explains: "Snowboarding is pretty much my main job. It keeps you busy. Your sponsors want to see you on TV."
SNOWBOARDING'S Olympic debut at Nagano wasn't a TV success, she recalls. "People boycotted the last Olympics. A lot of U.S. riders don't feel the need to do it." Speaking of the Olympics' emphasis on timed, gated racing, she adds. "It's so European. It is obsolete here. I had to make a choice between one or the other. I think if I would've pursued racing, I probably could've gone to the Olympics now. But that's not where the sport for me is going."
Nor is it where the money is going. Snowboarding's maverick spirit is exactly what advertisers from Nike to Mountain Dew want. (They also want athletes wearing their clothing and logos—not generic Olympic team uniforms.) As a result, they're supporting new pro events like ESPN's Winter X Games that are accessible and annual (unlike the snooty quadrennial Olympics). Instead of hulking Austrian downhillers with unpronounceable, vowel-deficient names or freakishly waifish yet sexualized teen figure skaters, the new alternative sports celebs are healthy, scruffy, cheerful, and—dare we say it?—advertiser-friendly.
So screw the Olympics. If that notoriously stogy, hidebound organization continues to cling to prewar athletic relics (luge, biathlon, fencing, race walking, etc.) Gen-X and Gen-Y viewers will just flip the channel—just as advertisers hope.
What they'll be watching instead are things like the X Games, Vans Triple Crown, and Sims Invitational, as Yamada and her sponsors are keenly aware: "If I want to do well at one contest, it's the X Games. It's so publicized on television." She's competed there twice, with top-10 results earning her a return trip invitation to Aspen this January; 20 million are expected to watch. Instead of rigid Continental categories of competition, these upstart events flow from the American freeriding ethos—self-expression, fun, style, air.
