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Rolling Along in Obscurity : Dezera Salas won a gold medal in freestyle roller skating, but few would recognize the world champion of a much-ignored sport.


Dezera Salas of Port Hueneme just became a world champion athlete, but don't expect to see her face on a box of Wheaties anytime soon.

Her gold medal at the 39th freestyle roller-skating championships late last month in Salsomaggiore, Italy, won't translate into any big checks for product endorsements. No fat appearance fees. No autograph hounds.

For Salas, obscurity knocks. She is virtually unknown even in Ventura County, a sort of roller-skating Mecca that has produced half a dozen national champions.

"They televised the finals every night in Italy, so I did lots of autograph signing there," she said. Then, in a tone of long-suffering acceptance, she added, "The sport is much bigger in Europe than here."

Skate Palace in Oxnard, where Salas teaches, has contributed several skaters to the U.S. and world championship teams. But the only camera crews to appear outside its doors in the sketchy south Oxnard neighborhood came to film segments for "Emergency 911" and "Cops" at the police substation next door.

"It's so unfair," lamented one roller-skating proponent. "We do the same thing figure skaters do--salchows, camels, lutzes--you name it. Only we do it with skates that weigh three times as much."

And yet the clunky cousin of figure skating slouches from one international competition to another, searching for respect. While the media crown an American ice-skating sweetheart every four years, roller skaters can't get their picture in a mug book.

As in figure skating, roller skaters are graded on appearance and degree of difficulty as they perform routines to music. Freestyle roller skates are the traditional four-wheel variety. In-line skates are fine for speed skaters and the ruffians who play roller hockey, but you can't spin on an in-line skate.

Despite the relative obscurity in which freestyle skaters train and compete, at least someone is watching. Ice skaters regularly borrow moves from them.

"Dick Button didn't do the first triple," said Ken Doyle, a former U.S. champion who works at Skate Palace. "It was done on roller skates six years before."

Rivalry between the two sports isn't always collegial.

"They're kind of snobby," Salas said of ice skaters. "But I guess they have the right to be. They're making money."

True enough. Although there's hardly a dime's worth of difference between the routines that roller skaters and ice skaters perform in competition, millions of dollars separate what they can expect to fetch in the marketplace.

Nancy Kerrigan lined up endorsements worth nearly $10 million from Disney, Reebok, Revlon and Campbell Soup. Kristi Yamaguchi pulled down an estimated $2 million in similar deals.

Salas' title win will net her a $2,500 grant from an amateur athletic association. She could apply for more grants through other associations, but she says the most she can reasonably expect to gain is $10,000, about enough to cover one year's training expenses for a title it took her 15 years to win.


Dezera (pronounced Desiree) started taking lessons at age 7. When she turned 14, she started training with Tom Davis, another former U.S. champion who works at Skate Palace.

Expenses for lessons, travel and equipment totaled $700 to $800 a month, and when the baseball card store the family owns in Goleta didn't generate enough money, Dezera's father worked two more jobs.

"We did without a lot of things," said Dezera's mother, Diana Salas. "Her lessons got paid before our mortgage, and the lessons usually cost more."

Any regrets that their daughter didn't choose ice-skating?

"She tried ice-skating, but it never occurred to us or her to change over."

So Kerrigan gets about a million bucks to sit under klieg lights and slurp Campbell Soup while Dezera Salas pays retail for the Wendy's chicken nuggets she eats from a dimly lit picnic table at the rink.

Salas does earn $30 a hour for coaching other skaters and she has had success there, too. She is the youngest coach to have produced a national champion--one of her students won the elementary division (for girls 10 to 12 years old) in 1992.

On a good week she earns about $600--pretty fair coin, she admits. But as a world champion ice skater she could charge at least twice that for private lessons.

There are other differences apart from the money.

Visitors to the Skate Palace are immediately met with the smell of urethane, a chemical coating periodically applied to the maple wood floor. It's an odor unmistakably associated with bowling alleys and the connection hardly seems accidental.

Like bowling, roller-skating is a volksport : inexpensive and accessible.

It's Ping-Pong rather than lawn tennis. Over cocktails and a cigarette at a popular Oxnard bar, Salas further explained what distinguishes her sport.

"Figure skaters have to do major training both on and off the floor. They run, swim, work out. We really don't." She said she trains by skating her routine and little else.

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