Ritsuki Takenaka, crailslide.
The Simple Session, that mad circus of chaos and plywood, returned to its roots for the 24th edition, and Tartu—our gritty, wind-whipped Estonian fortress—was ready for the mayhem. Not only a contest; it’s a proving ground where the lines between genius and insanity blur, where the sound of two Indy trucks grinding metal is a battle cry. This is the Estonian capital of skateboarding now, and we’re all just squatters in its ruthless arena.
Danny Leon, bs air.
If your soul moves on four wheels, this was your Mecca. The heavy hitters were here—Aaron "Jaws" Homoki, Jake Wooten, Shawn Hale, Tim Aguilar, and Nolan Miskell—all of them circling like sharks in a pool of concrete blood. The New World brought their firepower, and oh, did they deliver. Jaws didn’t just skate; he unleashed himself on that course, sending flip melon that could stop hearts. Jake Wooten, faster than a bullet train, lit up the venue like a fuse on a powder keg. And Shawn Hale? The man painted the course with his technical mastery, leaving a trail of awe-struck faces in his wake.
Jake Wooten, transfer to fs boardslide.
Aaron "Jaws" Homoki, flip melon.
Julian Agliardi, the maestro of last year’s pandemonium, stormed back into the arena like a force of nature unleashed. It was pure spectacle—each maneuver a declaration of war against the laws of gravity. The crowd was electric, feeding off his high-octane performance. It was the cruel twist of fate that sent him crashing down from the top spot, leaving the podium's pinnacle tantalizingly out of reach.
Julian Agliardi, lien to tail.
But the story here wasn’t just one of triumph. Ben Raybourn, our much-anticipated gladiator, took a brutal slam during the opening ramp boat ceremony—a bone-rattling crack that would’ve sent most men to the infirmary. But not Ben. He stitched himself together with adrenaline and stubbornness, charging back into the fray, battling the pain with every trick of his run, and in doing so, becoming a legend among the damned.
Ben Raybourn.
On the European front, we were blessed—or maybe cursed—with the youthful vigor of France’s Carl Bourguignon and Stellio Sakellarides, each carving their name into the course with the recklessness of youth. And then there was Lithuania’s Tomas Monkevičius, a beast of raw power, tearing through the park like a hurricane. Artūrs Bogdanovičs, the one they call Mr. Boga, soared through the air with a grace that belied the violence of his approach. He missed the final by a hair’s breadth, but every second of his run was a thing of beauty.
Artūrs Bogdanovičs, fs ollie transfer.
Tomas Monkevičius.
Let’s not forget the Finns, our wild cousins from the north—Onne Nordlund and Marius Syvänen—tearing through the park with a style that can only be described as pure, uncut Nordic chaos.
Marius Syvänen, going fs disaster and having some real good Times.
Pat Duffy took few spin on the course to perfect his role of judge.
Onne Nordlund.
But the Yankees weren’t the only ones vying for blood. The Spanish-Portuguese speaking contingent from Spain and South America stormed the park like an invading force. Pedro Quintas soared so high we thought he might never come down, turning a street league contest into what felt like a Vert ramp battle royale.
Pedro Quintas massive transfer over the chanel.
Marcello Jiménez, fs blunt.
Marcello Jiménez and Pablo Carranza shook the foundations of Tartu, leaving the ground trembling beneath our feet. Piero Núñez slid along the rail with such liquid grace that time seemed to stop, leaving the crowd gasping for air. And then there was Jaime Mateu—this man doesn’t skate; he flirts with the apocalypse, grinning as he does it, defying gravity, logic, and the laws of man with every rip. Matias Del Olio, the unyielding Argentine warrior, delivered as expected. And our beloved Spaniard, Danny Leon? For the second time, he took the top spot, hoisting the trophy high, as if Tartu itself had willed it to be so.
Danny Leon, celebrating.
And as if that wasn’t enough, Japan sent in the cavalry with Ritsuki Takenaka, barely 13 and already a force to be reckoned with, and Issei Sakurai, two years older but every bit as mesmerizing. They didn’t just skate; they crafted a vision, an art form that left the crowd spellbound. Issei’s airs were the stuff of legend—massive, majestic, and utterly breathtaking.
Issei Sakurai, showing us the right way on his Z-Flex skateboard, beasty !
Ritsuki Takenaka: An explosion of style that’s pure visual delight!
So, take a long look at these photos, let the madness sink in, and get ready—because in March 2024, the Simple Session storm returns to Tallinn. Brace yourselves for what’s to come.
Words and photos by Nicolas Bouvy.
Tim Aguilar commands the scene with powerful presence, even when he's in front of the lens. Total force of nature.
Nolan Miskell, fs air.
A 15-year-old Issei Sakurai throws down a McTwist like he's been mastering it for 30 years.
Jaime Mateu drops to fakie with a spine-chilling smoothness that makes you wonder if he's playing by a different set of rules.
Shawn Hale immersed in his artistic duty.
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