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BROC TICKLE
450 SX / MN.
IMAGE /MPG WORDS /MATTINGLY DESIGN / WILSON
>> It’s truly something to watch an athlete walk the pits, calm, cool, and collected. Shaking hands with anyone who walks near the pit, greeting them with a warm smile and hug, seeming as genuine as can be. And then the boots are latched, the helmet goes on, and the switch is flipped. The most critical switch in all the game, because
if it isn’t turned on, his competitors shadow the rider, a ride is lost, and he’s at risk for serious injury. Broc Tickle is able to flip the switch with urgent intent. A calm fellow off the track, once the lights come on, he’s ready to turn into an almighty Spartan warrior, truly willing to go out on his shield. Minneapolis was no different, the track al- lowing his skills to flourish, a good blend of technicality and speed. With the metal clanking into the dirt as the pin fell, the field stormed into the left bend. Utter chaos ensued, the catlike reflexes coming out, something that’s engrained in his DNA; debating whether to launch the first triple after the right hander, he made the move at
the final second, and leaped past a few riders who sat in his way. The tearoff’s ripping through the sand the sharp, hairpin sand corner following the mechanic’s area; the area laid with lenses appearing as though he plowed a flock of seagulls and dispersed of the feath- ers. The whoops began to engrain a line down one prominent side, where riders were having to choose either to hop or skip; he mixed it up, choosing to shift his weight to the quadriceps muscles, and use his legs as springs, a rather steady choice in the end. After battling the likes of the sport’s best, the clock began to wind down. He found himself at home in seventh place, although he couldn’t relinquish all of his attention, as the pack readily creped behind. He did enough
to secure it however, and as the final flag flew, he would bring home seventh overall.
26 GRITMOTO • FEBRUARY 19, 2017