"Aside from the insanity, there remains Adams' undeniable skating ability. People who are known as innovators consider Jay an original. Adams and Alva were the prototypical Z-Boys, and their riding did more to turn people on to the new surf/skate style than anything else. Jay did spectacularly well in contests although now he doesn't remember any of them in particular. When queried further, he states, 'After all, contests aren't really important.'
"Editor's note: Adams won freestyle and cross-country events in 1975, the Hang Ten World Pro-Am, as well as ten other first place titles and over 20 other assorted placings.

  "Jay began surfing and skating at age five under the encouragement of his father, Kent Sherwood, a longtime surfer. He prefers bank and pool riding to other facets of skateboarding, and credits Tony Alva with, 'turning him on to the banks.' Other favorite skaters include Torger Johnson and Bob Biniak. Adams feels that, 'it is important to skate well all around—'cos it's dead to be stuck doing just one thing.'

  "For tips, Jay offers that, 'You should be spontaneous in your skating and not plan ahead, just do what comes natural.' And that music really helps you skate better, so just park your car next to the hill and just turn up your stereo full blast.

  We asked Jay if his mother ever worried about him, and he answered, ;'Of course not.' Then we asked if he ever worried about his mother and he stated, 'No, she's able to take care of herself.'

THE REVOLUTION MAY BE TELEVISED

It’s a medium-cool afternoon in Anaheim, and the camera crew for NBC News, with Ray Duncan anchorman, arrives for a film session at the new skatepark. On hand at the park are a few skate notables, including Guy Grundy, who is knee-deep in groupies, Stacy Peralta, who’s doing 360 banked slides, Foster Dupont, who is changing the oil in his ‘48 Chevy, and Paul Constantineau, who, in between aerial assaults, is reminiscing over last night’s events backstage at the Forum with Charlie Daniels, Eric Clapton and a few hundred others. (In one of his finer skams, Paul C., with Dexter the Rastaman, are skating on the banks of the subterranean artist’s entrance to the arena, and catch the eye of Charlie Daniels, the Uneasy Rider. Charlie and his entourage trip so badly on the dog soldiers’ actions that they grab ole Slow Hand Clapton, who obliges the boys with backstage passes to the sold-out concert. A splendid time was had by all, especially Constantineau who is just beginning to come out from under the residuals of last night’s madness.) While the NBC crew is committing the frenzy at the cement wave to celluloid, Ray Duncan interviews a wide variety of personages.

In Stacy Peralta’s segment, the newscaster comments that he’s never seen anything like this, and Peralta replies, “There’s never been anything like this.” At that point, the interviewer recoils: lost in speculations over this new type of fun—70’s style, that is so far beyond the conceptual shadow of Disney’s plastic Matterhorn which exists statically just across the Santa Ana Freeway .

At the other end of the park’s concrete and Astroturf expanse, the camera crew is engrossed in a discussion with Paul C. over photographic possibilities in general when the director idly speculates that “it would be sensational to attach the newsreel camera to a skateboard.” Constantineau immediately shifts into overdrive, since in the last couple of years he’s done action and stunt camera work with a variety of filmmakers such as MacGillivray-Freeman, Dittrich, Darrin, Jepsen, Kalionzas, Murphy, Valentine and Ketonen. The crew immediately seizes upon the opportunity, attaches the camera to the nose of the warptail, and P.C. begins to put it through the paces. Blazing trails of animal grace and aggression, Constantineau performs continual lippers, vertical berts, slides, bunnyhops, etc., and ends his performance by booking it through the snake run with the 30 pounds of video gear up front, down into the center bowl, and does a high flyaway out of the bowl, lands on his feet, casually catches the camera board and hands it to the director. The director is totally speechless, having just seen several thousand dollars worth of camera and lens, his job, his sanity and his life pass before his eyes simultaneously. As they leave, Ray Duncan takes the boys aside and says, “You guys are really heavy.” Their reply was, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

SkateBoarder Magazine vol.3 #4 April 1977