Yo-yo-ing has woven its way into Ted Redmond’s blood.
By: Justin Schlawin
When Ted Redmond was introduced to his first fixed-axle yo-yo, he didn’t know anyone else who was interested in yo-yos. For more than half his life, Mr. Redmond has maintained his devotion to the sport. Yo-yo-ing has become much more than a passing hobby or a fad for Mr. Redmond. It has woven itself into his blood.
Mr. Redmond walked into the Princeton Public Library wearing a black newsboy cap, pushed backwards, and a white, long-sleeved T-shirt, tucked into black dress pants. He was carrying two suitcases with clear plastic covers; both evidently filled with yo-yos. Overall, it was an odd spectacle his strange dress impressed his personality traits onto those who saw him, seemingly giving away his soul at a glance.
Mr. Redmond was visiting the library to give a workshop on yo-yos for those interested in improving their skill. About 15 children ranging in age from infants to early teenagers attended the event with their parents. With this workshop, and others like it, Mr. Redmond intends, in his own words, "to spread the word of yo."
When around his yo-yos, Mr. Redmond cannot sit still. While talking very calmly, he wildly spins his yo-yo around about his head, so fast that it seems more like a mace or an equally perilous medieval weapon than a piece of plastic on a string. However, separated from his yo-yo, Mr. Redmond sounds as if he may be missing a long-lost friend. Because of his obvious attachment and skill, it has become more of an extension of his body than a mechanical accessory.
The library workshop opened with an introduction to the history and science of the yo-yo, which has become fairly complicated in recent years. "Long ago, before I was born," he began, "and up until when I was playing, they had fixed-axle yo-yos, which where solid, one piece yo-yos that didn’t include any complicated technology."
Mr. Redmond noted that these older yo-yos could "sleep," or spin at the end of the string, for only 15 seconds. The problem with such yo-yos, he added, was that the shorter spin time hinders the number of tricks that can be performed. "What has happened more recently," Mr. Redmond continued, "is that technology with trans-axles (yo-yos with ball-bearings) allows you to sleep the yo-yo for maybe a minute and a half."
Mr. Redmond finished his explanation on the physics of the yo-yo by stating that because of the technological advantage that new trans-axle yo-yos afforded, the net total of tricks has vastly increased.After capping off his technical introduction, Mr. Redmond began his floor routine. He had been preparing the routine for the Yomega World Championship before being sidelined with a shoulder injury incurred in an Ultimate Frisbee accident.
With the technology boom of the yo-yo invention, the three-minute floor routine, accompanied by music, has now become the standard means of performance at yo-yo competitions. "It’s like ice skating without skates or ice," Mr. Redmond commented.
"You get three minutes to perform, you get your music in the background, and you do what you can. That right there the integration of music and motion elevates it to what people would call an art form."
Mr. Redmond not only demonstrated his yo-yo-ing skill, but did so while keeping time with the rhythm of the electronic techno music that accompanied him. His routine strikingly resembled the rhythmic floor routines of performance gymnastics, yet had the same grace of style and speed as is found in figure skating. It included tricks such as "Buddha’s Revenge," which involved complicated flipping of the yo-yo through various loops formed by the string and "Double Cross-Over Round the World," which required two yo-yos at once.
After his performance, Mr. Redmond began the instructive session of his workshop, where he worked individually with kids and adults to help improve their yo-yoing technique.
"I though it was pretty obvious that he was tremendously skilled," commented Peter Brav, who was present with his son, Greg. "The way he yo-yo-ed makes me think about the time he must have put into it it was as if he were a finely trained musician."
Yo-yo-ing has recently taken leaps and bounds in attempting to make itself worthy of big-name competitions like the X-games and the Gravity games. The belief that the yo-yo is just a child’s toy has been an enormous obstacle that professionals have had to overcome. However, yo-yo-ers like Mr. Redmond have been able to break the mold to show that the yo-yo is something universal. Mr. Redmond’s advocacy of the yo-yo cites its availability and non-discriminate accessibility as major arguments for why it should be better appreciated. "There is no age barrier for yo-yo-ing," Mr. Redmond emphasized, "or gender, for that matter."
While for some it may be a fad or a toy, for others, like Mr. Redmond, the yo-yo has become an important part of their lives. When he is not Yo-Yo Man, Mr. Redmond is a Web page designer in Pennsburg, Pa.
When his work gets to be too stressful, he pulls out his yo-yo to release tension. "I get all worked up and stressed with the computers," Mr. Redmond remarked, "so I eat my lunch as fast as I can, and then I just relax; I just play with the yo-yo for a while."
Mr. Redmond approaches the yo-yo with an unbridled passion, a commitment that is only seen at the top levels of athletics, musicianship and artistry, and his hopes that it may be accepted as such are not ungrounded.
"You pass a point with yo-yos where you know that you will never give it up," concluded Mr. Redmond. "If you do it for three years, you’ll be doing it for 30. Once you reach a certain point, there is no going back."