t’s January 2022 and my seven-year-old son is standing on his skateboard at the top of a concrete ramp that’s known in these parts as a “funbox”. Right now, it doesn’t seem so fun. I can feel the fear vibrating from him. I’m urging him to give it a go. Pleading, almost. The reason for my fervour? Only a few weeks earlier I’d stood, frozen, in that exact spot, before taking my own plunge. And I know how amazing he’ll feel afterwards. So,
