Blanco

To my left was a barbershop called Pablo’s. Liking the name and needing a haircut, I walked in with no clue that getting a cut would never be the same again. I sat down and surveyed the layout. There was an older dark-skinned man with long, curly, slick hair doing something to a woman’s head involving pink paste and a lot of pressure. It looked like a project. Was he Pablo?

Standing closer to me was a younger, lighter-skinned man with a lot of tattoos. He was bobbing up and down at his station, working his razor on a young child’s head. His face scrunched up and eyes squinting from focus, he bobbed and weaved like Sugar Ray Robinson. He leaned back like Fat Joe, he was the only one who could hear the beat. Inspecting the scalp, he stood on his tip toes like a boy trying to peak over a fence and survey the world. The father of the kid in the chair sat on the couch next to me with two more sons. They all had the same cut. I wondered whether I could pull that off, the Cristiano Ronaldo coif on a manlier, less athletic face.

The barber circled the kid. The dad started talking about boxing. The barber nodded as he slowly spun his son in his chair. He opened the back door so that the kid was now bathed in sunlight from the front door and back. It was as if he was saying  fluorescent lights were not good enough for him. He was an artist and he would not let his latest work off the chair until he inspected it from every angle and under every ray of sun. He circled the chair from the right while spinning it slowly to the left.  Chasing it. Stalking it across the ring. That was Blanco.

He powdered the kid off, turned to the dad and said You think HE’s bad!? Tyson, now that dude…NOBODY badder than Tyson, B. The dad ambled up to the chair with his arms open and reasoned “Well, shit. I KNOW Tyson’s bad. But Holyfield beat him, didn’t he?” The barber jumped into a reenactment of Tyson-Holyfield II with the only two details he remembered being that Holyfield deserved to have his ear bitten off and one does not mess with Tyson, B. The dad opined “You know who really messed it up? Mills Lane. He was the ref that night.” I did not know that. The barber replied with I stopped watching boxing after Tito, man. When Tito fell off, I said I’m out. Now I wanted to get involved so I said that I bet he was happy when Trinidad robbed De La Hoya. He said he was. The dad got him talking about all kinds of sports and it was incredible because both the dad and I knew more about sports, but he was the barber and we were in his pulpit so his word was God. Talk turned to the Knicks and he said Please. You know who the baddest was, right? JORDAN. Maaan, that dude was unstoppable! We both agreed that yes, Michael Jordan could play. Meanwhile, Blanco was averaging about 45 minutes per haircut. The dad noticed the time and remarked that he was surprised that it was so late. The barber replied that people who want some quick-cut, they don’t come to him. Come to him only if you know and recognize that he takes his time. YO, I CHILL. To me, I gotta get it perfect and I’m gonna CHILL. He followed up with an anecdote about how some fool tried to rush him and he told him “YO.” Like the works of Terrance Mallick and Axl Rose, Blanco’s was a pursuit unbound by time, no matter how their fans clamored or how long I waited on that couch.

Still, I couldn’t be happier. After getting my hair cut in one sterile salon after another, I had finally found my spot. I didn’t even care how my hair cut was going to be (when I got it). Then the man called me up. I took the throne and he put the cape over me and said “So what’s up? How you like it?” I said short would be fine and he got to work. I wanted to get him to rant like the dad did. At that point my feelings would have been hurt if he got me out of there in less than 30 minutes. I sat and tried to think of a topic to peak his interest. He was doing his bobbing and weaving routine behind me when we heard the TV set and a girl said to her man “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be back at the end of the summer and I’ll call you every day.” And Blanco immediately said Yo he is f*cked! Homeboy bout to get cheated on. DAMN. Believe ME. I KNOW, ya know what I’m saying? I KNOW.  I had no idea who they were or what show it was (neither did he) but of course I said “Oh hell yeah! You can tell.”  UM HMMM. I can see it in her eyes, dawg. Women yo. You married? ( No.) NEVER TRUST A WOMAN. TRUST ME, NEVER TRUST WOMEN. What could I say? I couldn’t argue with him. I was on his turf.  He had a razor to my head.  So I said ” Oh Hell no!” and he then told me that his ex had cheated on him with his friend and at that moment this heavily tattooed diminutive Puerto Rican John Leguiziamo-looking barber started spinning around the barbershop with his arms open wide to the sky with his scissors in one hand and a razor in the other shouting WHAT DID SHE THINK? SHE THOUGHT I WOULDN’T FIND OUT? IN THIS TOWN WHERE EVERYBODY JUST LOOOVES TALKING BOUT OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESS? 

I thought to myself this is the best hair cut of my life. I averaged 3 or 4 hair cuts a year before Blanco. After meeting him, I was at his place every 6 weeks or so. He was not one to slave for the man though. I’d swing by at 5:30 in the evening on a Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and the place would be closed. Their posted hours were the opposite of their real hours, all day, everyday versus never, never. I would drive by Pablo’s during especially good weather, on the day before a holiday, anytime that I could rationalize to myself a barbershop would and should be open. My logic could never match their’s but sometimes I would drive past by chance and run in when  I would see the man in white gliding around the shop. Once, as my man was performing the pre-game ritual of spraying that water bottle thing into my hair, I casually remarked “Been here a bunch of times. You guys been out-of-town?”  He pirouetted away from me , turned around and his eyes ablaze, he said YO I love my customers but for real you n*ggaz is crazy! I’m here all the time! Nobody comes, then I got to go take care of some stuff and THE WHOLE WORLD STOP BY!? Come on man! You guys is a TRIP. I was embarrassed by my stupid remark but at the same time proud he called me n*gga.

Aside from the enormous entertainment factor, this dude’s haircuts were the best I ever got. And he knew it too. He was not lacking confidence. He used to cut all his friends as teenagers and they all told their friends and he became a barber by default because of the demands of everyone he knew. This followed the Good Will Hunting script where his friends realized he had a gift and although he wanted to do other things,  damnit, he didn’t owe it to himself to be a barber, he owed it to them to give them all free haircuts for life. Or so they said when they showed up on his porch every Friday after work.

We talked about everything at Pablo’s and the best days were in the summer with a bunch of scruffy heads talking about anything not worth talking about, which of course are the best things to talk about. There was the time I said Denzel Washington is overrated. I argued that Matt Damon was better and that Jason Bourne would kill Alonzo from Training Day in less than a minute. Questioned what the hell happened to Michael Jackson. Suggested that the Fellowship of the Ring didn’t really need Gimli. Okay, I did not bust that one out.

A few months ago I told him the Knicks had added Jason Kidd. No reaction. Someone said Kurt Thomas was back. Barely a shrug. I mentioned Marcus Camby’s name to some other guy and before I could finish my sentence, Blanco left his station and was popping off imaginary jumpshots, fadeaways even and yelling Marcus Camby used to drill those threes! Swish! Swish! Knicks got him!? Damn. He eventually calmed down, resumed his cut and remarked that this was the first time in a very long time that he had heard the name Marcus Camby. I wondered if he was thinking of Reggie Miller.  People were vague and confused a lot. Someone would say “Yo, who’s that guy? The guy with the sick jujitsu?” and everyone would guess random names until someone got it. I would wait each time for someone to bring up Floyd Mayweather so Blanco could instantly contort his body into a weird hunchback stance with his shoulder to his cheek and say repeatedly BOY’S DEFENSE IS TOO GOOD! You can’t touch him! Nobody can! Hit me! Hit me! It’s impossible!! MONEY! Look at this stance! And he can knock a guy out from this stance! 

Nice sunny day today. Went down for a cut. Walked in and sat on the couch. There was nobody there. Ghosttown. Tumbleweed. Things felt off. Pablo walked in and said to take the seat. Dude, where’s Blanco? No Longer Here. I took the seat and Pablo asked me how I wanted it. I wanted to say “Like Blanco does it! I hate you Pablo! Where is he? I wanna go there!” but I just said short. He asked me if I want a 1 or a 2. I wanted to say “What are you, a robot? Blanco didn’t throw numbers at me!” but I just pointed at a photo of some guy and said ‘like that’. Pablo gave me a really good cut. Probably just as good as Blanco. It’s his name on the shop after all. Still, it wasn’t fun. He didn’t say a thing, although I didn’t want him to.  He didn’t use a toothbrush to even out my fade like Blanco used to. He didn’t talk sports or do impressions. All he did was give me a damn good haircut in a short amount of time and for a reasonable price. Lame, Pablo.

I walked out of there thinking that’s it. Never going to see Blanco again and all I have to remember him by are those eight business cards sitting on my desk that he asked me to hand out for him.  No goodbye, no see you later. Good barbers are hard to find nowadays but good characters even more so. And both in one? Irreplaceable. I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. As Pablo cut my hair and the curls accumulated on my cape, I was going through a Blanco’s Greatest Hits montage in my mind and I remembered something else he said.  One day his cell phone rang a few times and he looked at it angrily and he said STRAIGHT UP, I been through so much f*cked up shit, I can’t even tell you dawg. Prison. Women. CRAZY SHIT.  Like, you wouldn’t believe it type things, but what all those people who tried to bring me down don’t know is that out of the darkness comes the light yo, I BELIEVE THAT 

Two minutes later, he told me it was his father trying to reach him on the phone because he wanted a ride. Blanco said he had forbidden his dad from driving because Yo some people drive bad, my pops is TRYING TO HIT MOTHERF*CKERS ON PURPOSE. He got anger issues dude but for real if he calls me one more time I’m gonna knock old man the f*ck out when I pick him up!  Scissors and comb in hand, he threw a  jab-jab-uppercut combo into the air of the barbershop. BAM! 

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Kobe Bryant: The Best Ever ? Better than Gandhi?

By now, I am sure you have seen Kobe Bryant’s miraculous game winning shot against the Miami Heat. On Saturday, in front of a raucous crowd (Yes, Laker fans are capable of becoming raucous in the last ten seconds of epic games), Kobe “Black Mamba” Bryant was locked in an epic duel with Dwayne “Flash” Wade, known in Los Angeles circles as a “poor man’s Kobe”. Said one Hollywood producer sitting court side, “Kobe is the best ever. He is better at his job than anyone else in the world is at their job. Kobe can do anything. In fact, I could have Kobe play Malcolm X and it would be great. Wade? I wouldn’t let him do a guest spot on Malcolm in the Middle.” Now, it’s common knowledge that the Miami Heat won a championship a few years ago and that Wade is in no way as good as Kobe, this game was close in score only because Kobe’s supporting cast and coach are  inferior to Wade’s. That being said, anyone who hasn’t been in a coma for the last decade could have told you how it would end. Indeed, how it always ends. Kobe doin’ work. The Laker legend beat the buzzer with an off-balance 3 pointer to win the game by one point. And then he did that thing where instead of smiling or looking happy to win the game, he stood there scowling hard as hell, eyes squinting, overbite dangerously intense. Just letting you know, if you still don’t get it : “I’M  A  BADASS”. Upon my tenth replay of his gamewinner, I actually listened to the question that ESPN’S Scott Van Pelt was asking. On the highlight reel, as Bryant’s shot goes in off the glass, the news anchor asks in bewilderment and SHOUTS as if this has just happened live “IS THERE ANYTHING HE CAN’T DO!!!???”

It’s a valid question. Is there anything in this universe that he cannot do? Hyperbole aside, he is obviously the most accomplished man on this planet at this moment. So, I decided to compare this Maestro of the hardwood to previous giants of history, even though it goes without saying that Kobe would shit on them all in a game of one on one. For this, our first installment, let’s see if Mahatma Gandhi can stand up to KB24.

Kobe vs. Gandhi. 

WORLDLINESS: Gandhi went to South Africa and earned his law degree. He applied his education and the lessons he learned here to come up with a course of action to remove the hated British empire from India.

Kobe grew up in Italy and used his Italian macking skills to pick up chicks when he moved to grimy ass Philadelphia. Soon after, he would take Brandy to his high school prom. Nowadays, Kobe speaks to Pau Gasol in Italian because everyone is too scared to tell him Pau is Spanish.

EDGE: Kobe

RESUME: Gandhi, known as the father of India and synonymous with non-violent struggle, his is the story of a man who defeated an evil empire single-handedly. His face is on every Indian bill of currency. One negative is swirling rumours of being an adulterer.

Kobe, known as the father of Natalia and Gianna (Italian names of course) and  loyal husband to Vanessa, has won 4 championships, 2 scoring titles, 1 Finals M.V.P, 1 regular season M.V.P, 3 all-star game M.V.Ps and been named an All-Star 11 times. He is the face of the N.B.A, sports and America.

EDGE: Kobe

INTANGIBLES:

Kobe showed he can roll with the punches when he transitioned flawlessly from the Shaq era to The Kobe era. He never hung his head, belittled his owner or insulted his teammates – instantly becoming a beloved leader and role model.  He kept Laker fans happy by scoring 81 points against the defensive minded juggernaut Toronto Raptors in the most important game in Laker history. Gandhi, on the other hand,  rode Jawaharlal Nehru’s coat tails (yes, the Nehru suit’s)  too long and looked lost without Nehru’s sage wisdom. Basketball wise, it would have been like the Mahatma lost his big man and resorted to chucking shots up from 3-point land. Ignoring open teammates. Being a gunner. Being SELFISH.

While Gandhi refused to amend his principles of Ahimsa (non-violence) and peace, Kobe has adapted and improved his game each summer. While Gandhi fasted for weeks and walked all the way to the ocean to make his own salt, Bryant has hired Tim Grover, formerly Michael Jordan’s trainer and nutritionist. Says Grover, “Kobe doesn’t fast or take long walks because I have  him on a high protein diet that results in superior energy levels that we schedule his workout regimen around. Kobe probably burns in one hourly session with me the same number of calories Gandhi burned in his entire trek to the ocean. And I will tell you this- Kobe would have gotten to the ocean maybe twenty times as fast as Gandhi. FACT. And with a lot more left in the tank. The guy is a FREAK OF NATURE. His motor just keeps going…”

The task of comparing two of the giants of the last century is by no means easy but there is a source who knows both men well. Phil Jackson has coached Bryant for ten seasons and has read the book Gandhi six times (even giving it to Lamar Odom for Christmas 2007). Phil’s take on the debate was as objective as possible, “Well, it’s always tough to compare different eras. Different rules. Different challenges. However, I will say that the things Kobe is doing right now, I would say that we haven’t seen this kind of sustained excellence since the Beatles run in the 1960s.  And think about this…The Beatles changed their sound in late 1965 because they realized that the best are always trying to improve. They keep tinkering. They keep working at it. That’s what makes Kobe Kobe. This summer he added an array of new post up moves. Last summer, he improved his mid range game. He is relentless. Quite frankly, Mahatma should thank his lucky stars that Kobe wasn’t fighting for the British.”

EDGE: Kobe

Millenniums from now, it will be painfully obvious that Kobe Bryant was far more accomplished, successful and well-rounded than Mahatma Gandhi. For now, people will act like it’s close. Still, realists know that Gandhiji could never swagger like this.

Next week,  MAMBA VERSUS EINSTEIN: THIS TIME IT’S RELATIVE.

#11 Downey!

I played Chaplin, you know that?Robert Downey Jr has long walked the tightrope between genius and insanity. He’s supremely talented and can keep a crowd engrossed acting, singing or just talking. Then again, he’s the same guy who was so loaded on cocaine one night that he walked into his neighbour’s house and fell asleep on his kid’s bed, thinking he was home. His drug addictions were tabloid fodder for years and he once told a judge sentencing him “Its like I’ve got a shotgun in my mouth, with my finger on the trigger, and I like the taste of gun metal.” He also said he wasn’t a fan of Pokemon but  “could deal with this [Pokemon] if I smoked a couple of grams of blacktar heroin.”  With the success of Ironman, the world is offering nothing but superlatives for Downey but its fun to remember that there was a time when this amazing human being and champion of mankind was thought of as a junkie piece of crap. That’s putting it lightly. As he says, “A lot of my peer group think I’m an eccentric bisexual, like I may even have an ammonia-filled tentacle somewhere on my body. That’s okay.”  As a performer, he’s always been top-notch. He is on the money in Chaplin, Two Girls and a Guy, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Wonder Boys. To boot, he is a great conversationalist. Hearing him talk about overcoming his drug problem is actually interesting although you would think it would be dreadful. By and large, the media says that the reason his career never ended despite his numerous arrests and embarassing episodes was because everyone just loved the guy. He’s a charmer, that Downey.

Forget that, rent Two Girls and a Guy, definitely better than Lethal Weapon.
The best thing about Downey is that he knows exactly who he is. He’s the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude!

#10 Wrestlers

Ahh..good old rasslin. The national pastime when i was a kid in the 90s. Contrary to popular belief, wrestling was never about wrestling. It was about the drama. And the most dramatic moments were the promos. These short vignettes showing the wrestlers working themselves into a lather made life worth living. Here are some gems..


FYI, I’m cool with anyone who disses Hulk Hogan
…and then there was the legendary Nature Boy..Woooooo!       

He lives in the biggest house on the “biggest side of town”…uh, we get it Ric, you’re rich!!
A cool aspect of most other wrestlers was that they were a modest, god-fearing and thankful bunch..unlike the polo playing douches down at the country club, they knew who buttered their bread.
Man, It’s as if these dudes grow up schizophrenic between themselves and alter-ego personas and then they go hit the gym. A few years later, voila, these guys are huge and certifiably nuts. And the fans eat it up!!! Well of course, the fans are crazier than the wrestlers…
Hmmm, based on his work in Capote, I’m gonna have to say Philip Seymour Hoffman.

#9 Gary Busey : Still Crazy

The first time I saw Gary was in Point Break. I remember thinking to myself, this guy is definitely a maniac in real life. Being a kid, it was presumptious of me to judge him by his looks. Still, I was obviously right. He has been that “crazy looking actor in a bit part” for me for the last 20 years. It’s awesome to have somebody so consistent in my life. Gary is my rock. He just does not waste an opportunity to start talking gibberish. It’s just automatic. Apparently, Gary had a nasty accident on his motorbike in 1988 and since then, he’s been on a mission. A mission from God. And this mission involves a sail, a boat and the ocean.

The thing about Gary is he’s seen all the angles man. He’s been doing this Hollywood thing for 30 years now and he’s not gonna put up with any Busch League crap. For instance, if you wanna interview him, you best plan everything out.
Damn right, if you don’t do your homework, Gary’s just gonna direct your interview himself. You have to understand that Busey doesn’t play by your rules. He’s a free flowing lifeform, he doesn’t follow rules of structure or any of the world’s conventions. Education? College? F@#k that! That’s just the man trying to brainwash you!
Man, I can’t even keep track of these Busey-isms. He rattles them off like a machine gun. It’s uncanny. His real-life interviews are even crazier than his portrayal of himself on Entourage. In fact, some slimeballs out there have accused Busey of being an “act” 24/7. I could not disagree more. To act this crazy this convincingly and this consistently would be beyond any actor. In a single frame, he confuses and scares me, all the while bringing tears down my face as I laugh at the life lessons he imparts constantly. He is just too much. My only problem regarding Gary is that I feel that sometimes the movies don’t do him justice. Thankfully, Reality TV has come to the rescue. Gary Busey finally gets the VIP treatment he has earned. He’s reached the summit, that point where none other than Andy Dick fetches you Slurpees.

#8 Ron Artest : Nut/ Baller/ Rapper/ Journalist

 i rap  better than shaq  man! i swear!Listen, I’ve been joking about dudes being crazy and all but this time I’m serious, Ron is nuts. I mean, we need to get this guy help not now, but right now. Actually, it should have happened years ago. Ron-Ron first came to prominence at St. John’s where he made his rep by playing college ball representing NYC. At that time, Ron was known as “intense” and “passionate” but this was just insanity that had not blossomed yet. But now..Oh, it’s on now. Dude is gone, he’s unreachable. Artest is DennisRodman2K.

It all came to a head that day in 2004. There were signs before that but this was truly his arrival. In the last minute of a certain win, Ron should not have even been in the game when for no good reason, Ben Wallace snapped and went after him. Showing more maturity than ever before, Ron did not fight Ben eventhough Artest has always liked to lay the smack down. Ron simply went to the sideline while the teams started pushing and shoving and in general “acting hard”. However, Ron-Ron is y’know “different” so he chose to lay down on the scorer’s table while this scrum was going on all around him. Next, a fan threw a cup of beer which defying gravity managed to fly (upright!) and land directly on Artest’s neck/chest as he lay down. (It happens at the 1:40 mark of this clip) Well, I don’t really think Ron did anything crazy here. I am sure half the guys out there would wanna beat the hell out of a guy who throws a beer at them. It just shows that Artest is not your typical millionaire athlete because they would think of the consequences and their endorsements before going into the crowd and beating up some dude. However, at this point, I still did not think Ron was clinically insane. It was only AFTER this that he really went muy loco. It was first evident in all the interviews he did after the brawl. In his first interview after, he was asked “Ron, you’ve been suspended for the entire season. You’ve lost millions of dollars and a chance at a championship. Is it safe to say that you will never go into the stands again?” Haha, this is a no-brainer and somehow he answered “Well, hopefully if you watched the brawl and everything, fans know better than to throw a beer at me now. I won’t go into the stands again because nobody is gonna throw stuff at me again.” So, the interviewer says “ARE YOU ACTUALLY TELLING ME THAT YOU WOULD GO INTO THE STANDS AGAIN IF A FAN THREW A BEER AT YOU AGAIN??” Ron replies “Well, nobody is gonna throw a beer at me. I think everybody learned not to do that.” Classic.

On his hiatus, Ron dedicated himself to his record label and becoming it’s flagship rapper. His passion consumed him and he came back the next season a little too hip-hop for his team’s liking. ron-ron He even came back with the name of his label “Tru Warrior” etched into his head and he talked about how he came to realize that he was a better rapper than baller. The kicker was, after missing the entire previous season due to his suspension, Ron actually asked Larry Bird (his team president and not a hip-hop fan) if he could take a few months off during the season to pursue his rap career. rap? are you kidding me ronnie? Well, it was over when he started handing out copies of his CD to reporters and security guards at practice and before you could say “Don’t Quit Yer Day Job” the Pacers had suspended and traded Artest. The team decided that he was just a little too insane. The thing about Ron Artest is that he isn’t a bad guy. And, he really isn’t a good guy either. He’s just a real person. In today’s world, most athletes are so programmed and pathetically bland. They have publicists and assistants and never give you an honest answer. They are metrosexuals with lavish mansions and vanilla personalities. We never find out exactly who they are. Whatever you say about him, one can never say that Ron Artest was not himself. Maybe the point is that if everyone spoke honestly and followed their gut instincts, then we would all be considered crazy?

Hmmm, he’s a very musical man, that’s for certain. A very interesting twist in the Ron Artest saga is that as of June 2008, Ron was moonlighting as a journalist. Yes, Ron is asking the hardhitting questions now, having joined forces with the media. Watch this interview with Kobe Bryant. You’ll notice that Ron is not very objective. Actually, he looks like a six year old kid the way he fawns over Bryant.
It’s too funny hearing Artest say “Hannah Montana”. I enjoy Ron’s nervous energy, it’s certainly different from your typical interviewer. His brain is a universe unto itself. He actually tells Kobe, “This is the biggest opportunity of my life”. Dude, you are an NBA player already! How can interviewing Kobe be the biggest opportunity of your life?!? Actually, his next interview is the one i’m really looking forward to. Ron is going to sit down and interview the Detroit fan who threw a beer on him!! The fan is on board and this is going to happen. NO JOKE. Watch for it..It’s Ron Artest’s world man, we’re just living in it…

#7 Vova Galchenko: Going for the Juggler

Vladimir Galchenko is a 20 year old sophomore at California State University. In his mid-teens, he immigrated to the U.S from Russia where he was a resident of Penza. As a boy growing up, his father enrolled him in “circus school” when he was four years old in the hope that Vladimir would be able to make money and survive as an entertainer. The boy would grow into Vova, widely considered the best juggler in the history of the world. Interestingly, he steadfastly refuses to wear any kind of make-up or costume at any performance deeming such attire “gay”. He became a web phenomenon ten years ago (yes, at the age of 10) Magicians across the world reached out and asked Vova to come train with them. After years of travel and practice, he eventually settled on the west coast and earned a Green Card based solely on his juggling skills. Today,he is in Cali and loving life to the fullest. He can not only do every juggling trick ever, he continually dreams up new ones that leave people scratching their heads. He is the TRUTH. His first taste of commercial success was in a Fatboy Slim video and he has also been featured in Time, the New York Times and a Florida Lotto ad.

He is a funny dude who posts his own blog (everybody’s doing it) and he is quick to tear into people ranging from himself to his classmates to Lenin. Watch his juggling in Penza where he juggles on top of a tank as well as at a Lenin statue that he eventually throws balls at.
In the world of juggling, 3 clubs or balls is cake, 5 is tricky, 7 is almost impossible and anything else is unimaginable. Galchenko is at the 7,8,9 level. He has practiced three hours each and every day for the past ten years and he is now a machine, a machine that defies gravity and speaks with a russian/cali accent. Vova’s got crazy skills…