Happily flipping, twisting in oblivion
If things go as planned, each sprint down the runway will be punctuated by a tremendous boing off a mini trampoline, which will send him high enough to do two flips and two-and-a-half twists. He’ll then land on a second mini trampoline which will immediately launch him airborne again to do two more flips and three twists. Before landing in a small padded area. Preferably on his feet. “It’s like target practice with flips,” Jon Schwaiger says, making his sport sound like a glorified game of human lawn darts.
And if things go wrong? Don’t ask.
The 25-year-old Ancaster native is the best in Canada at the appropriately named discipline of double mini trampoline, a niche branch of gymnastics that combines incredible athleticism with absolute fearlessness and complete anonymity.
Few understand what it is he does. When he mentions his sport, most think he’s jumping from one full-sized trampoline to another, like Rosie McLennan with vertigo. It’s not. He generally has to show them a video to explain.
Not only is it thoroughly unknown, it’s not an Olympic sport, either. Nor is it an event that will make him rich or even attract sponsors.
“You’re in it because you love it,” he says. “At the end of the year, it’s just a really expensive hobby.” So why do it? As a boy in Calgary, he was diagnosed with a bleeding disorder. Sort of a low-end version of hemophilia. That eliminated the chance to play any contact sports. So mom and dad put him in gymnastics.
By the time he was six, he’d been identified as a kid with talent and was competing. For 12 years he worked at it until he made it to nationals.
There, he won a silver medal on the vault. But his performance in the other events led to a bit of an epiphany.
“Wow,” he said to himself. “I’m really not that good. High bar was scary. Pommel horse was really hard.”
So when he got home he emailed the local tumbling coach and asked for a tryout. His skill on the vault — which is helped by tremendous special awareness or what he calls “air sense” — made him a natural.
Running down a track and doing handsprings and cartwheels and layouts and stuff was perfect for that.
Soon he was introduced to the double mini trampoline, where he quickly took off (pardon the terrible pun), though his first-ever attempt didn’t go particularly well, as he recalls.
“I started close,” he says. “Ran slow and still missed.”
Today, living in Ancaster and married to former national tumbling team member Emily Smith, he’s the best in Canada in both this and tumbling. Despite that, his heart still occasionally skips a beat when he’s preparing to sprint toward takeoff.
This is an intimidating sport even for the experts. He’s seen people gruesomely twist ankles, break legs and worse. He even knows of a guy who’s now quadriplegic as a result of an accident.
“Sometimes (people) take off and I say, ‘Oh, this is gonna hurt,’” he says.
This risk helps explain why the sport has been banned in a few European countries.
But his bleeding condition. Surely he’s had some bruises and bad landings that wouldn’t be ideal for him?
Indeed he has. Including landings on the front, side, top and back of his head. Though he’s never been diagnosed with a concussion. More than a few times he’s pulled himself back to his feet after a rough landing and thought: “I’m going to be visiting the chiropractor tomorrow.”
However, a while back doctors took another look at him and said, oops, you don’t have that bleeding condition after all. So he now goes into orbit without fear. OK, without much fear.
Schwaiger will head to Bulgaria in November for the World Games. He’s thinking of competing until the 2021 worlds, which run every four years, and feature non-Olympic sports, like sport climbing, tug of war, in-line hockey, sumo, bowling and his events.
Then he’ll get on with the rest of his life.
Meanwhile, some guys have started incorporating quadruple flips into their passes. He’s not going there.
But, before he goes airborne for the final time in competition, he wants to be the first person to land a laid out triple flip. Three endover-end rotations with his body straight. No tucking.
“I’ve done it in training, but never manned up to do it in competition. Sounds terrifying. He’s going to want to make sure he lands on his feet after that one.
sradley@thespec.com 905-526-2440 | @radleyatthespec Spectator columnist Scott Radley hosts The Scott Radley Show weeknights 7 to 9 on 900CHML.