He was Kyle, 20 at the time, lost it. Raised in the Southport projects, he had broken 22 bones in his life, many from street fighting, but had never cried for anything. He started bawling. He smashed the kitchen table with his fist, breaking it in half. At the hospital, a woman asked for someone to identify the body.
Kyle, still convinced it wasn't Blake, volunteered. He walked into the morgue and stood next to the corpse as the woman lifted the sheet. His mother, watching from behind a pane of glass, collapsed. Tears gushed down Kyle's cheek. It was Blake. I could look at him in a million pieces and know it was him from his smell. I slept in the same bed with him for eight years.
But he couldn't talk back to me. A lthough their last name is the same, Kyle and his younger brothers, Blake and Jordan, 14, each have different fathers.
Kyle's dad was a professional fighter. He left before Kyle was born. Kyle never pushed to find out why. Their mother, Debbie Lee Baldock, raised her boys in government-subsidized housing. Debbie worked as a housekeeper for local hotels.
She would drop the boys at school on her way to work and pick them up on her way home. She ate less so her sons had enough food. Taught them right from wrong, but let them make mistakes so they would learn. In , when Baldock was 14, a local BMX legend named "Crazy Colin" took an interest in him and taught him to hit jumps. After grade 11, Baldock quit school and got a job as a construction laborer. He intended to focus on BMX but instead got into trouble, eventually ending up in jail.
When Baldock was 16, Crazy Colin hanged himself in his bedroom. Baldock was so devastated he couldn't bring himself to attend the funeral. He started riding harder in That's crazy," Baldock thought. B efore Blake's death, Baldock had a terrible time controlling his anger. It started when he was a kid and persisted into his adult years, when an average night consisted of getting drunk and finding someone to fight. At 5-foot-8 and a bulging pounds, he watched violent movies and took fighting classes before brawling with bigger men.
Asked how many fights he's been in, he replies matter-of-factly, "Over , easy. I've been beaten by bats," he says. Exactly six years ago, we partnered with Mike Spinner and hosted one hell of a BMX contest in his backyard. Watch the highlights! Great video. If this is a taste of what's to come in , it's going to be an absolutely insane year. Obviously, based on it being such a short video, a lot of things aren't included, but it's definitely a good watch.
Watch and find out. Don't worry - there's some great riding in here as well. Followed categories will be added to My News. Already, this dirt prodigy has won six X Games golds. At 27, he boasts his own signature bike range, too. And with BMX freestyle now being included at the Olympics … well, consider this inked Australian the early gold favourite. When looking down to his little brother Blake — at 16, the victim of a tragic motorcycle accident — Baldock vowed to overhaul a life that was just one punch away from the big house.
But nothing like when Blake was clipped by a car and killed while riding his motorbike on a backstreet in
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