Op-Ed | Joey vs. Loewy : Why I Got Marooned from Rollerblading
by Ryan Breslin
In the summer of 2021, after an online fist fight with Joe Atkinson and Billy O’Neill, along with a handful of others, I was marooned from the rollerblading community. AI Image prompt “a man sitting marooned on island wearing rollerblades and holding a camera, painted in a Norman Rockwell style” via Bing AI.
With my last Op Ed where I discussed why I don’t have any friends in rollerblading, I feel like I left out a lot of context about my marooning from the rollerblading community. I often will get screenshots from the rollerblading rollerblading fakebook group from a friend, with people inquiring as to who the fuck I am, and why I have such a chip on my shoulder. Often the critique is that I need mental health help; if y’all think for one second that I am not aware of mental instability, welp, jokes on you Bob! As one of my former douchebag co-workers would retort to any confrontation, “sit on it and turn, ya prick!”
That said, for those privy to who I actually am and what I have actually done within rollerblading, where I started, and all that bullshit, well, crack a beer my fellow boberino’s and sit back and enjoy.
Having found rollerblading at a young age, I experienced the extreme sports phenomena during the turn of the century. Although I was the only rollerblader in my area and skating alongside BMXers, I continued to pursue the sport regardless of being a black sheep.
Photograph of myself doing a 180 in Glen Cove, NY circa 2005 or so, taken by Rob Sturgess.
My relationship with rollerblading began around the age of 5 or so; my mother, out of the blue, one day bought me a pair of the TRS lightnings; you know, the classic jams with the purp and green color way that just seemed to infest the early years of the 90’s? Yeah, those man. And so I’d go to the roller rink; for those that lived in Long Island, remember United Skates of America? Yeah, that’s right yo, I am that OG from Lawng Eye-Land; to quote Mike Epps in How High, “I be pimpin’ since been pimpin since been pimpin since been PIMPIN”. And from there, with the explosion of the extreme sports craze that coinicided with the pop punk phenomena at the turn of the century, I found myself revisiting rollerblading, and in turn, developing an interest and passion for it. While I had only 1 or 2 other friends that skated, and eventually took up shop with BMXers that would belittle and mock me at every chance they could, I still pursued it. And when I relocated to Brookfield, CT in the Winter of 2005 or so, I was shocked to find that my school had 3 or 4 rollerbladers, all of whom actively skated and were up to date with modern affairs. I’ll never forget walking down the hallway of Brookfield High School and one of my future best friends, Michael Marston, shouting at me, “Hey! Are those Xsjado footwraps you’re wearing?”; as a smile grew on my face, I already knew despite being ripped out of my current high school life style of skating (I had begun to skate hand rails at that point!), drama theatre, chorus, a part time job and Home Ec ( I was big on learning to cook and sew with the hopes of going to school for fashion design), I had found common ground in a foreign town that I hadn’t before in my home town.
I failed to mention though that, throughout my time skating, I have suffered a handful of injuries; broken arms, a lacerated interior left calf, and almost having my leg amputated from a faulty AO soul landing in 2021, I’ve experienced a myriad of shit that has always held me back, which is why I ultimately resorted to do what I do with photo; if you can’t be the best, or even good for that matter, might as well document it. And so that’s how I felt; I always felt a need to write and talk about things throughout my life. Take for example, in the 5th grade, at the birth of AOL, AIM and email, I began an unofficial school letter that I’d send to anyone I knew. I was a shit talker from the day I could utter a word; I remember, one day, I must’ve been no older than 2 or 3, silently saying the word “fuck” at day care. I knew the word was wrong, but living in the household I did, I heard that word more than any other. I felt guilt but also knew, there was a power in it.
There’s this scene of John Goodman in a gambling film that came out in the mid 2010’s, and he talks about the power of “fuck you”, in the sense, that it isn’t just a term, but a means of how you conduct yourself. But you have to put yourself in a situation where you can afford to stand that sort of ground, and this runs from financially, to morally, to ethically as well as, and most importantly, legally. I have found myself many a time in legal hot water for me running my fucking mouth, and honestly, there isn’t anything of context to what’s really being said, it is more of a scare tactic because, well, I’m gonna make an example of you; Fuck You.
So, let’s get back on track here, right? I have been a journalist in blading for over a decade now; and despite the efforts and time I’ve put into it, the majority of it was a waste of time for me, as well as a waste of money. Whether it be my efforts with the Boschi Pope Skate Off, my time at Be-Mag, my laughable operation Rudy, or even doing this, Daily Toast, really has summed up to nothing but a bad reputation. Why? Because I am brutally honest; at times, I can be psychotic in my demeanor with others, because I will be Frank (you can still be Garth, though), I am absolutely relentless when it comes to my convictions with things.
Boschi Pope, pictured above, in 2016. I photographed and took lead for the production of the first two BPSO’s; despite the time and effort I put into the project, my working relationship with Boschi was sporadic and short lived due to his candor and ethics.
This results, if we are so privy as to going via the Jenny Melfi route, from growing up with a father figure that constantly berated me, telling me I was a f*ggot and demeaned me for my feminine traits and suicide attempts, as well as witnessing the chaos of an untreated narcissist that suffers from multiple mental health issues such as Bi-Polar and mania, and in turn, deliver a continued dosage of abuse and manipulation, both emotionally and financially. And to be Frank (are you still there, Garth?), there is absolutely no better example of how this behavior has translated into my own life than my interactions with Joe Atkinson and Billy O’Neill; aka the Joey vs. Loewy fiasco of 2021. And I want to add, simultaneously, that despite my upbringing, I retain full responsibility for my actions in what is about to be described.
So how did this all begin? Well, my Bob…you’re still here right Bob? Okay good. Well, back in 2021, the new photo editor at Be-Mag, Jon Labez, was working on a project to help raise funds for Be-Mag’s next print issue. So some context here; I was previously the photo editor at Be-Mag, which, admittedly, was a self appointed position. I had been working and contributing to Be-Mag, unpaid, for a few years; my history with them began in the early aughts, starting with coverage at Bittercold and then transpiring to editorial features. I would interview crews like the Black Bandit Media guys, as I was always a fan of Jon Lyke (who also by chance dated a chick from my high school; she was a total ten too), and I then expanded into other areas. By 2017, after providing them with another 300+ photo essay of BPSO, in addition to a few other events as well as Instagram coverage, I pitched the idea of me coming on as staff, handling the photo editor position and running the Instagram. My editor, Josip, pitched it to Michael Bayr, one of the founders, and they accepted it. So, I began my tenure there, and it lasted for about 2 years; I produced and wrote about 200-300 stories or so, and I covered a handful of events such as Blading Cup and Winterclash (which I hated; sorry Jojo). I’d also spearhead the first of their voting ceremony, as well as the only digital issue that has been produced to date. Despite coining the idea for the digital issue, I was not given any sort of creative control. The cover that was chosen, a portrait of Alex Broskow, was flipped by the designer. I distinctively remember Alex messaging me about it and stating, “hey, did they flip this?”. Major face palm.
Alex Broskow photographed in 2018 for Be-Mag; this portrait would be used for the cover but was flipped without my consent.
The cover of Be-Mag’s first and only digital issue; the goal was to revive the print aspect of Be-Mag in a digital means, but it unfortunately did not take flight after the first issue.
Towards the middle of 2019, Josip was suggesting that he was no longer interested in his role as editor in chief, and with my consistency and dedication, he felt I should take the role. But at that point, I was losing steam; I felt defeated with how a handful of stories had transpired. I recollected on my last interaction with Danny Beer and how he refused to let me take his photo despite our history. I had looked at my folder for Winterclash, defeated and diminished. “I don’t wanna do this anymore”, I said to myself softly with the glow of my shitty iMac reflecting on my glasses. And so on the cusp of taking the editor in chief role, which Josip then was assuming, I took the role as an interim, not looking to really make any sort of announcement because, to be honest, I didn’t think anyone cared. By the beginning of summer, feeling less and less connected to things, I messaged Michael and let him know I needed to step down; during my shoot at Winterclash, my mother suffered a manic episode due to a lapse in her liver medication, and we assumed she had had a stroke; although it was not that severe, it had a lasting effect on me and I began to lose steam with what I was doing with Be-Mag. On top of this, although being owned by SkatePro, they provided a very minimal budget and showed little to no interest in the operation. So when I resigned, Michael asked me to source my replacements. I put out feelers, corralled a list and turned it over. In my eyes, I wanted Jan Welch to man it; his efforts with Big Wheel Blading were fruitful and I felt he could do a good job with his history and knowledge. Few know that Jan had his own skate magazine back in the 90’s, so I felt he was the best to do it. But he wasn’t interested, so I turned over the names that responded.
Joe Atkinson at the 2019 Winterclash; despite working together on a few pieces for Be-Mag, we would have a falling out in 2021 over a trivial matter involving a Be-Mag calendar.
Michael landed on Kevin Little, a guy that owns a wheel company in Texas called Sic Urethane and pretends that he is sponsored by USD, for editor in chief. To my knowledge, I have never seen a piece written by Kevin prior to his time at Be-Mag, nor has he ever demonstrated a knowledge of graphic design or art direction. My second pick, behind Jan, was Jon Labez, who got my original job, Photo Editor. I thought that Michael’s choice were ass-backwards; Jon has a degree in writing of some sort, and has an extensive history of photo and interactions with a myriad of people. In addition to this, Jon worked on a handful of projects with me for Be-Mag prior, including our 2018 Blading Cup photo booth, as well as an extensive piece on Oysius. At that point, though, I just wanted out. I handed over my portion that I had accumulated of the SkatePro budget to Kevin; most of the funds I used were actually paid to Jon for his “Frame At A Time” series he was doing; he was sending random people in the industry a disposable camera and asking them to document a day in the life. It was probably the most intelligent and thought out installment series anyone ever pitched me and I was fully committed to supporting it; Jon cared. Kevin, on the other hand, I just wasn’t sold on. And I was reassured when he made a post, on the Instagram page, which I had grown from about 27k or so to about 35k or so within 2 years, to tell everyone that he was now in charge. It was fucking embarassing. And following suit, any story Kevin produced or wrote, read the same as an Eisinger piece, and I fucking hated every single one. “How could you do this to rollerblading, Ryan?”, my now nemesis, Malik Ashby, said to me in a group text one day. “Dude, it wasn’t my call”, I’d guilty respond back in defense. I knew what I did, but I honestly didn’t care; I knew Be-Mag wasn’t going to fare well regardless.
And so, let’s fast forward to 2021, and the infamous fall out between myself, Joe Atkinson, Billy O’Neill, and a handful of other people that still can’t seem to let this shit go; for all of y’all’s closure, this is MY closure and ME letting this go, so that we can all rest easy, aight? So, let’s get fucking started. You still here Frankie?
An image from Joey v. Loewy, which began over a misunderstanding of image use for Be-Mag’s first calendar. The calendar was meant to raise funds for Be-Mag’s next print issue.
In 2021, Jon wanted to raise funds to do a print issue; as I had mentioned, SkatePro gave ZERO fucks about Be-Mag, it honestly was bought by them to stir an audience to their shop. And for further context and understanding, SkatePro is like a Sports Authority in Europe for extreme sports; these people do not actually give a fuck about rollerblading, and it is surprising that they even attempt to encompass and capitilize on such a small, un-profitable industry in a sector that has other facets that yield a better return. So that said, Jon is looking to raise funds, because SkatePro is not going to invest a fucking dime in a print venture; there is not guarantee for a ROI, and that’s basic business Bob. It hurts, I know. Here’s a tissue.
So, Jon and I stay in touch, and around mid 2021, he informs me of his plan to do the calendar. He sends me over a proof and asks for feedback; I review the cover, and notice, buried within the calendar, is this WILD ass photo of Joe Atkinson. Having worked with Joe previous via an Instagram live interview on Be-Mag (that’s right motherfuckers, I was among the first, even before Jump Street), as well as shooting him at the clash; we all reveled the next day about Joe’s departure from Roces. In fact, I’ll never forget the conversation Josip and I had on the train to the airport. We were in total disbelief of what transpired; “How could anyone fuck someone like that?” I rhetorically asked Josip at the time. He just shrugged; Josip was doused in punk culture, so the acts that had occurred to him, in terms of analyzing corporate behavior and malice, were not surprising.
Another image from the Joey vs. Loewy series; I would make a handful of still life’s using images I had taken of Joe in response to the pitck fork party he launched against me in July of 2021.
And so I told Jon blatantly, “dude, Joe’s your fucking cover, come on man. He’s on fire. Ever since the Roces bullshit, he has just been catapulted into stardom; he’s winning almost every comp, and to top it off, he’s a free agent. If that isn’t a big fuck you to the established standard of what we consider the best, I don’t what is.” And so Jon agreed, and he swapped out the photo. But not everything got swapped, but we’ll get to that a bit later.
Around June or July, I had been working a new job as a photographer at a high end fashion store with some friends from college. It was refreshing; I went to work every day doing exactly what I had wanted to do, of some sort; I was shooting product photos , eventually fine art/editorial-esque images of high fashion stuff. And the snooty and high brow bullshit that you’d expect, maybe ala the Devil Wears Prada, was certainly there in sheep’s clothing. So during this time, I get a message from Jon with a screenshot. And what is it of?
Joe Atkinson posts a story, accusing Be-Mag of utilizing his photo to make money off of him, and that Be-Mag had refused to send him a copy of the calendar that he had humbly asked for. Well, as one of my former co-workers once said, there’s two sides to every story, and in the middle is where you find the truth. Many have heard Joseph’s story, so now, you are going to hear mine.
One of the more vulgar images from the Joey vs. Loewy series; I was heavily criticized for the body of work and was a contributing factor to my ex-communication from the sport.
Joe Atkinson claims that he was completely unaware that his photo was being used for the cover, despite the photographer, Adam Kola, who I admire and think is a stellar photographer, sent it in. It isn’t Joe’s choice, though, as to how this image gets used, because unless he has a written agreement with Adam, it’s Kola’s call, not his. So, the issue that initially lies here isn’t with Be-Mag or Jon Labez; it’s between Joe Atkinson and Adam Kola. Secondly, Joe claimed that he was never sent a copy of the calendar. That is a blatant lie; Jon sent Joe a copy, for free, from California to England. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with shipping cost, sending anything from the states to England is not cheap. Unfortunately, the original package that Jon had sent got lost in the mail; this shit happens, and I know first hand because I had a few international packages where the order was worth $100 or so, and they got lost, and I had to not only eat it, but re-ship it at my cost. So, Jon politely asked Joe to pay for him to re-ship it; Joe found this to be unacceptable and proceeded to commence a pitch fork party against Be-Mag. Be-Mag is profiting off my image is the most ironic statement anyone could ever make at that time within this industry; if you had any understanding of the internal dynamics of how Be-Mag was, you’d know that that is absolute bullshit.
So, me being me, I reached out to Joe, with a simple statement, not demeaning, but defensive; “This is really immature of you, Joe”, I said. And, within an hour or so, I received a retort, and before you knew it, me and him were going at it. Within the hour or so, he posts about it to his story on Instagram, will an audience nearing 100K, and the pitch fork party commences. Within the next day or so, I get a message from Billy O’Neill, someone that I have known for over a decade now and have worked with multiple times; I have photographed Billy for his Be-Mag retrospective, as well as photographed two of the NYC street invites that he hosted, as well as sponsored one of the first episodes of the Jump Street podcast. But I won’t lie, Billy and I have had our quarrels prior to this. Back in 2018, when I was running my measly clothing venture, Rudy, I paid to sponsor his second episode of Jump Street, which featured Jon Julio. I paid them $200 to read an ad; it was rather simple and I felt that with Julio being on, it would be worth the investment considering the number of viewers it would draw. But upon reading my copy, Billy didn’t follow what I had written, and he butched my name. You can watch it yourself; I was simultaneously embarrassed and angered that someone that I had worked with extensively and also respected would treat me that way. But I also didn’t find this surprising; a few years prior, I had a dream about Billy and I getting into a fight, and I remember him being so ruthless and mean towards me; the dream came true.
I confronted Billy and Austin about how they did my ad, and felt I didn’t get my money’s worth, because I honestly didn’t get a single order after running that ad; there was absolutely no ROI. And so I asked for a partial credit or refund; maybe run another ad to make up for your fuck up? I was met with hostility and anger. The same anger I got from Billy during the BPSO days; he was frustrated with how things were being run despite having little involvement at the time, and essentially accused me and Malik Ashby of trying to steal BPSO; which, there is truth to that, I won’t lie. I honestly felt at a certain point, that with how Boschi was handling his legal matters, to be polite, that the name of the competition should be changed to the New York Skate Off, because honestly, there is not much to celebrate about Boschi Pope, nor did I think he would remain a free man to handle BPSO. Can anyone tell me when the next BPSO is? Oh…
Billy O’Neill photographed around 2013 or so for Be-Mag; despite working with Billy throughout the years, a vivid dream of a falling out a few years later would predicate our relationship. While we have made amicable amends, the comradery between has been permanently fractured.
So, with Billy’s inquiry about my situation with Joe, I knew that it probably wasn’t in my favor. And what began as a cordial conversation soon turned ugly, and before you knew it, Billy and I were going fisticuffs. I recorded an interaction or two with him as well as Miguel Ramos, and I also made a myriad of photos and videos mocking the entire situation. What entailed from this was my cancelling from rollerblading; Adam Johnson cut me off after he found out I sent a bag of dicks to Miguel (Joe was staying with him at the type). The icing on the cake, though, out of this entire thing, was when Joe finally got his copy of his calendar, which you can still see, and it is literally, to me, one of the funniest fucking things to have ever happened; it is the type of shit where you watch it, with knowing all this context, and you go, “you can’t write this shit.”
Jon Labez forgot to change the copy for the credits for the cover when he switched the cover that I suggested, so Joe’s name isn’t even on the cover. I thought that Preston’s caption for the video, “Plot Twist” was very clever; it’s obviously passive aggressive and akin to that Brad Troemel post internet The Jogging bullshit that I absolutely despise, but I gotta give the guy credit, an absolute A+ on the title for that; I literally screamed and laughed when I saw it.
Malik Ashby, pictured above at the 2018 BPSO, was a former long time friend that often instigated and caused drama whenever deemed suitable for him. Despite sponsoring him with my project, Rudy, which he abruptly quit a few months later, as well as shooting a profile on him for Be-Mag, he ultimately sided with Atkinson and O’Neill during the 2021 fiasco in the interest of saving face.
So of course, Jon and Kevin were FURIOUS with me; Be-Mag was the laughing stock of rollerblading that summer. And from what I heard, it ended up compromising Powerslide buying Be-Mag. For years, Powerslide’s associated umbrella brands would be the sponsors you’d see in Be-Mag; if you look at any of the print issues, you’ll see a heavy amount of Powerslide ads and riders, which isn’t surprising considering Be-Mag was founded in Germany, and at a time, the two did work in tandem in terms of European distribution. I distinctively remember when I went to Winterclash in 2019 and we had a booth, we had all of this Powerslide shit. I never asked where it came from, but I was told that the sales from it were paying for my ticket (yes, I paid for my ticket to Winterclash upfront and was then reimbursed after; that is the life of blading media, if ever). I was told that Powerslide wanted to convert Be-Mag into a Powerslide driven media outlet, focusing on their core brands and riders. But after a consensus from a majority of the team, such as Lomax, Enin, Farmer, and obviously Billy with Mesmer, it was voted down and nixed; the Joey vs. Loewy controversey shot it dead in the water, and obviously, I think there is some spite from that. From what I know now, Jon and Kevin own Be-Mag outright; I am not sure what they paid or what it is worth, but aside from Jon’s content, the majority of the output feels half baked and lack luster. When I pitched the idea to Jon around 2023 or so of me potentially coming back to Be-Mag, he told me that Kevin’s response was, “absolutely the fuck not.”
A self portrait I took in the summer of 2021 admist the Joey vs. Loewy fiasco; I was the pariah of the sport at the time, receiving countless hateful messages and comments about my interactions with Atkinson and O’Neill.
And so, where does that leave me? Well, after Billy posted a photo of where I lived on his story, and going to the cops, nothing transpired further but bad luck. I broke my leg and retreated to Poughkeepsie after ending a 7 year relationship, and in turn, I abandoned skating for about 2 years. During that time, I’d experience a wealth of darkness; shit job after job living next door to my former ex, I tried to kill myself multiple times and spent about 3 months in a psych ward. After finding that my ex was seeing someone else via her Instagram stories, and after failed attempts to relocate within Poughkeepsie, I moved to Utah for about 2 years where I had a friend of mine from high school cut me loose after 6 months; I met a smokeshow that I thought was gonna be my wife, but that didn’t work. I tried to hang and bang with the best in SLC for the summer of 2024, as I began to explore music, make more photo and video work, as well as search for new work. But like most things in my life, I failed, and on the brink of homelessness, without a car or a pot to piss in, my douchebag father bailed me out and helped me crawl back to NYC. During that time, I started Daily Toast, and began writing about skating again, with the aim of making genuine content, heavily inspired by the likes of Darkside Of The Ring, The Onion, New York Magazine and Vice.
I attempted to make good with Billy as well as Miguel, even Julio and the rest of the other cowboys, but for the most part, at least according to Jason Reyna, I am “weird” and was “cancelled years ago”. I somewhat buried the hatchet with Billy, but after his return to NYC and the lack of correspondence despite a planned reunion and beer session, most of my interactions fell on deaf ears aside from the praise I had provided via a co-worker that, coincidentally, was from Staten Island and had skated back in the day and was aware of Billy’s notoriety.
A self portrait taken in Utah in the summer of 2024; Billy and I squashed our beef and in return for this, he sent me a free pair of skates. Unfortunately they did not fit, so I decided to give them away after Billy’s approval. Despite burying the hatchet, our relationship remains hindered by our past arguments, and I truly believe we will never be able to resolve our differences.
The response to this was mild at best, and knowing how to read the room, I left it as is. I do not feel really any obligation to go any further than what has already been established. I tried to further assess the dynamic of my reputation within the industry; with the premise of doing a print issue, I had offered to provide free ad space to a handful of skate companies for the first print issue, as well as reached out to a handful people to do stories, as well as host events, but all of it fell on deaf ears.
From a series of imagined children’s books about various skaters I had interactions with. Among the people I would continuously roast would be Billy O’Neill.
Let’s be very clear, though, just because I am met with resistance does not mean I will stop. I have a problem with obsessing over things regardless of how many times I fail at doing them.
So I will be Frank, and yes, you can still be Garth: I understand where I stand within this industry, and I know how I am viewed. You all are entitled to your opinion of me, but my curiosity lies in your actual demeanor in person when questioned on your stance of me; will you tell me to my face your disdain and disagreement with my behavior and candor? Or will you approach me passive aggressively like Koda Hult and thank me for gracing you with my presence? Will you retain the testicular fortitude to actually confront me and experience my retorts? Or will you retreat to a covered corner with your friends and speak your plights in private as you look on in disgust?
As someone that is living proof of the following statement, I’d like to fondly share it with you to close this out;
“Don’t go around, talking yo shit, sooner or later, yo gonna step in it” - Johnny Walker, The Soledad Brothers
