These Folks Take Their Pogo Sticks Pretty Seriously

The greatest day of Michael Mena's life as a pro athlete ended with a pair of world championships that the 33-year-old had spent the better part of two decades chasing. Asked how becoming the best in his chosen sport was going to go over back at the office, the Florida native, who currently works as an automated software tester in Canada, just laughed. "They think it's cool," Mena tells the AP. "But they don't get the full depth of how it all works." Mena's job? He's a pogoer, i.e., a "professional pogo sticker."

Mena is part of a tight-knit group that gathers every year in the parking lot of a converted school in Wilkinsburg, a neighborhood a few miles east of downtown Pittsburgh, attempting to one-up each other during the annual "Pogopalooza." They all understand what they do is a little out there, even for an action sport. They also don't care. "I feel like it's similar to a fraternity," says Dalton Smith, considered one of the greatest pogoers of all time. "But if like all the frat guys were half jocks, half artists, with a little sprinkle of mystical zest on the whole thing."

Participants do this for glory, not for money. "The dream used to be: We're going to be the next skateboarding," Mena says. "If we got a bunch of money, it would be cool, but it's not the goal anymore. We're not like, 'How can we make more money?' It's like, 'How can we make it more exciting?'" It's that common vision that draws Mena, Smith, and a dozen or so of their friends together each year to hang out and compete. "We're equal parts naive and brave," says Smith.

The event has tried to go mainstream but has settled for "keeping it real" instead. According to Pogopalooza's Will Weiner, the corporate gig the 34-year-old once had was "1000% more lucrative" than his current job—yet it didn't allow him to wear orange pants with a blazer while trying to organize a show led by performers who often find themselves on "pogo time." Weiner describes Pogopalooza as more of a family reunion than an actual competition. "We might not have 20,000 people here, but we can give you authentic, and we can give you cool, and we can give you content," Weiner says. More here.