Back in 1981 (I was 7) I had my first view of "hack". I was at a Reggae Festival with my parents and I saw these Hippie guys kicking around a crochet ball that sounded like Rice Krispies when they kicked it. I really wanted to join in, but at 7 I was a little too shy. I didn't see this game again until I was about 11.
I was in a department store with a friend (the store was even named Bradlees) and I saw a "Hacky Sack" brand footbag. Having so vividly remembered the circle I was to scared to join, I bought the bag, read the rules, and began teaching myself the game. I had very few friends who were into it, so it was a passing hobby for many years. In high school a few kids liked playing and by then we were onto the awesome Sipa bags. At this time we had no idea what freestyle was, but we were doing jesters (flying clippers) and some head, back and knee stalls.
When I was 20 I moved from Upstate New York to Iowa City Iowa (don't ask why). My road to freestyle continued there as large groups of us played almost every day on the "ped mall". At that time and place the coolest moves were pendulums and "around the world kicks".
By the time I was 21 I was living in Denver, Co. I was working in a bookstore downtown and found myself again on a pedestrian mall kicking "hack". After 10 years of "hacky sack" I was getting seriously bored and felt as though my lust for the game was ending. Then it happened.
There was a rally on the Capital lawn for a man who was running for governor. Usually I wouldn't attend such a thing, but he was very supportive of a little green friend of mine. Anyway, we went there to enjoy the festivities. In the midst of everything I was looking for a hack circle and through the crowd I saw a very strange thing. Somebody was bouncing around in the most peculiar manner. I made my way through the mass of people and came upon one of the most glorious sites imaginable. There was a whole group of people kicking hack in a way I'd never seen. Legs were flying around the bag in so many different ways I could barely keep track of it. Then it mysteriously landed back on the persons foot. In that group was one particular shredder who blew my mind. I found out later that his name was Daryl Genz.
Since that day it's been a whirlwind of footbag. It's a journey I hope to continue into old age.
UPDATE: Two back surgeries later and so much for continuing into old age.