Ch. 2: Origin Story and Growth
Creation Myth
Montgomery and Flores were not the only non-Hmong b-boys to join mostly Hmong crews. Flores’s fellow Smurf member Eric Costello was Mexican and also called Southeast Fresno home. After seeing Flores battling Hmong b-boys at Roosevelt High School Costello came out of his shell more, leaving the comfort of his bedroom to dance in public. As he danced more, Costello caught the attention of Ville Thao (listen to Ville Thao's oral history) , a founding member of Smurfs crew. Soon, Costello and Flores were logging long practice sessions with Smurfs crew whether it was at a crew member’s home or at neighborhood parks like Holmes, though Costello increasingly had the feeling that he was underutilized in the crew and began to think about alternatives.
This is the “creation myth” part of the story. Costello and Flores decided it was time to leave Smurfs; Costello, in particular, felt that he and Flores were not being utilized to their fullest and also felt frustration at what he perceived as a declining level of commitment from his crewmates. Leaving the Smurfs was no small decision. In practical terms leaving the Smurfs meant leaving one of the most successful b-boy crews in the Central Valley with no guarantee of recapturing the respect that came from being affiliated with a known crew; in addition, breaking from a predominantly Hmong b-boy crew could potentially mean one less layer of protection against the realities of local gang life. Still, Costello was committed to forming a new crew that he and his peers could shape as they saw fit. After an awkward break-up call with the head of the Smurfs, Costello and Flores next called Montgomery to ask if he was down to leave DIS and join their crew. He was in. They still needed a name; while moving some furniture around, Costello found a list of potential crew names that he and his homie had experimented with earlier and the name “Climax” immediately stood out to him. In later years, crew members would try to argue that “Climax” had a deeper meaning; something along the lines of “achieving a supreme result,” or the more PG-13 interpretation that you can probably figure out on your own; truth is, Climax just sounded kind of cool so the name stuck.
For youth growing up in Butler Park and West Fresno during an era of gang databases, anti-immigrant sentiments, and general hostility to youth of color, a given name could be a burden, a perpetual reminder of outsider status, of being perceived as a threat. In this context, the process of choosing a b-boy name is an individual act of self-expression and flavor; a well-chosen name signals an individual’s connection to a particular neighborhood, generation, and/or style. Just as importantly, however, for many youth of color, re-naming oneself is a defiant act of reclaiming one’s identity. And so, with Climax established as the crew name, our protagonists dove into the well-spring of primordial dopeness and shed the baggage of “Montgomery,” “Flores,” and “Costello,” coming out the other side as “Goku”; “B-boy Pablo”; and “Flip” respectively
Climax quickly expanded with the inclusion of Flip’s homie Ygnacio “JR” Haro, and B-boy Pablo’s brother Alex “Footloose” Flores who, along with Goku, B-boy Pablo, and Flip made up Climax’s “fab five.” The crew began practicing throughout Fresno, often at crew member’s homes but also at local community centers like Ted C. Wills Community Center, the Mosqueda Center, Holmes Playground, and Roeding Park. Soon they began to battle throughout the Central Valley, often taking on their former Hmong crew mates.
Mastering Hip-Hop's Four Elements
Like most respected b-boy crews, Climax drew strength from the sum of its parts. Not only did different crew members have their own specialties as b-boys, they also began to immerse themselves in hip-hop culture quickly becoming equally adept at rocking mics, turntables, and spray cans while still serving b-boys on the dance floor. After suffering a series of serious injuries, Eric "Flip" Costello stopped dancing, and poured his energy into starting a Climax-branded DJ crew that threw local house parties and battled emcees in local cyphers while other crew members busted out the fat caps and dove into the local graffiti scene.
Over time, the crew had gathered fragmentary evidence of lush hip-hop pastures in Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area. One such fragment that made its way to Fresno was a colorful flyer beckoning the crew to Radiotron, a b-boy Shangri-La in Los Angeles run by the legendary Lil Cesar; complete with graffiti style lettering, boomboxes, and b-boys, the flyer promised the opportunity to see iconic b-boy crews, DJs, and emcees. Within a year, Climax was battling at Radiotron.