Motorcycle Stunts In Mexico

What they say about NAFTA and looser security at the U.S./Mexico border Must be true--how else do you explain how such two grade-A hooligans as Derrick "D-Mann" Daigle and Matt "Thew" Blankstrom, two of America's top street freestyle riders, could be found tearing it up for 12 days straight this past December in Mexico City? Somebody check their passports for the correct stamps and visas!

Actually, Daigle and Blankstrom were in Mexico's capital city for Auto Expo Mundial, the largest auto show in Latin America, which entertained more than half a million attendees during its two-week run. Daigle and Blankstrom were part of a group of extreme athletes, which included freestyle motocross riders, Baja Pro Truck drivers and Hollywood stuntmen, imported to entertain the masses after they tired of eyeballing acres of concept and custom cars. If response to these shows--the first street freestyle events ever hosted on Mexican soil--is any indication, sportbike stunting has the potential to be a huge form of entertainment south of the border.

"[The crowds] were totally out of control," Daigle says. "You can't even imagine the response we got--like nothing I've ever experienced in the States. Our first shows down there were big--like 1000 people in the stands. But the crowd had no idea what to expect from us. Once the word got out about what we were doing, it just blew up. The word of mouth was getting so crazy that by the last show there had to be 10,000 people there. The Pro Trucks and car stunts were cool, but people were really there for the motorcycles." Not only was the crowd response unlike anything D-Mann and Thew had ever experienced Stateside, but the treatment from promoters was a step up as well. Chauffeured transportation shuttled them from their first-class hotel to the show every day, umbrella girls, um, umbrella'd them, and lackeys kept their bikes constantly cleaned and lubed (and on one never-to-be-forgotten afternoon, Armor All'd the tires).

Everything short of armed bodyguards was provided--which was unfortunate because by the final week the boys could have used some handlers to hold off fans. "We'd do autographs for at least an hour after every show," Blankstrom says, "and by the end of the week we couldn't even walk across the convention-center floor without having to stop and sign a dozen autographs or have our pictures snapped five or six times. The love we got from the crowd was more than I've ever seen at any show in the United States. It was crazy--I felt like a rock star."

Daigle and Blankstrom were compensated like rock stars, too--another departure from the typical American stuntfest. The dynamic duo performed three shows daily for 12 straight days, and they were paid a flat rate per day, a per diem for incidental expenses and a parts allowance. "Our parts allowance alone was more than I've ever been paid for a weekend stunt competition in the States--and I've made good money in a weekend at stunt events in the past," Blankstrom says. Wine and roses aside, performing in a Latin American country wasn't without its, um, challenges. This point was driven home on the eighth day of the event when one of the freestyle motocross riders, Tyler King, crashed and suffered potentially fatal internal bleeding from a ruptured spleen. King was quickly transported to a local hospital and accurately diagnosed, but doctors refused to begin the lifesaving operation until one of the event promoters showed up at the hospital with a suitcase full of money to ensure payment for the procedure. Other culture-shock moments were more hilarious than harrowing, such as the Armor All incident or when Blankstrom and Daigle asked if their stunt area could be swept clean before the day's performance.

"It was the funniest thing," Blankstrom recalls. 'You've got a street sweeper, right?' I asked some Mexican guy, and he said, 'Yeah, sure, we got sweepers.' We were thinking, 'Kick ass, they're going to bring out a big street sweeper and blow this place off.' I'm not kidding--they brought out six old ladies with brooms in their hands to sweep off the track! And they weren't even push brooms--they were branches and twigs strung together like a witch's broom! But sure enough, they swept off the track.

"Witch brooms--stuff like that, you just have to laugh. One guy came up to me on the last night and said, 'Muy loco trabajo,'--you have a crazy job. How right he was."