Yo-yoers aren't cool? Ask them if they care

Alex Polvi bounded off the stage, grinning.

As the first contestant yesterday in the Pacific Northwest Yo-Yo Championships freestyle competition, he was exhilarated. Even though he dropped the yo-yo four times during his routine. Even though a bunch of prepubescents were kicking his 20-year-old butt.

He looked up as he heard the crowd gathered at Seattle Center House burst into applause.

"That kid's killing me!" Polvi said of a skinny 12-year-old with braces. Yet Polvi, an Oregon State University student, was still smiling.

Welcome to the new world of yo-yoing, where crowds cheer, music pounds and choreography is elaborate. There are yo-yo "disciplines" to fit every palate, and even a scoring system not unlike the one used in figure skating.

This is not the yo-yoing of yore, which seemed to involve not much more than standing in one place, looking at your shoes, and flicking your wrist. Again and again and again.

Yesterday's competitors didn't just Walk the Dog — they let him off-leash, lassoed him and put him on a trapeze.

They bounce yo-yos off their knees, let them crawl up their arms and swoop behind their backs. They executed Green Triangles, Double or Nothings and Lacerations. Some even Split the Atom.

Of course, these aren't just any old yo-yos. They have precision bearings, silicon "response systems" and cost as much as $300. There are even accessories, like two-fingered gloves.

"There's less coefficient friction," said Kevin Kelly, 20, a University of Washington student. Huh? "You don't get string burn," he explained.

Try explaining that to Sterling Quinn, the skinny 12-year-old who took Polvi down a peg.

"I really love yo-yoing," he said.

No kidding. Sterling practices every day for "as long as I possibly can," sometimes reaching the four-hour mark. "On a rainy weekend, I yo-yo all day," he said.

Why?

"I'm not quite sure," he answered.

But he sure knew how to compete. Pausing occasionally from his routine, he'd look out at the crowd, smile like he'd hit the lottery and wait just long enough for applause. It worked every time.

"You get more points if you do that," he explained. Besides, "if you're happy, the crowd likes it better."

Somehow, yo-yoing still hasn't reached the status of "cool," at least among the mainstream.

"I don't think I've ever impressed a girl with my yo-yoing skills," Polvi said, adding, "I try not to let people know I yo-yo unless they know me, or else I'll get pegged as the yo-yo guy."

While there was some disagreement on the "cool" factor among the contestants, Sterling agreed with Polvi. But it is unlikely his response ever passed the lips of another adolescent: "I don't care what people think," he said.

As Sterling prepared for the second round of competition, he told a fellow competitor that he didn't even have the jitters.

"I didn't even think I was messing up," he said. "I was like, I'm yo-yoing! Hooray!"

Maureen O'Hagan: 206-464-2562 or mohagan@seattletimes.com