Danger is their game

It is easy to see why freestyle motocross is among the marquee events of the X Games, with riders soaring from ramp to ramp at distances of up to 100 feet, flipping their 250-pound bikes while performing mid-air handstands and other seemingly impossible tricks.

But when the action sports world’s annual festival returns to Staples Center and the Home Depot Center beginning Thursday, the anticipation and atmosphere around the event -- the freestyle motocross final is Saturday -- won’t be quite what it has been in the past.

In the tight-knit community of riders and their fans, the tragedy of Jeremy Lusk reverberates.

Lusk, last year’s X Games champion, died six months ago after a violent head-first crash during an obscure competition in Costa Rica, and his passing -- believed to be the first fatality involving a pro rider at a competition -- has had a profound effect on the sport and its athletes.

Lusk, who was 24, was known as much for his work ethic and engaging personality as for his prodigious talent -- “one of those kinds of guys whose passion for what he did was very tangible,” says Chris Stiepock, general manager of the X Games.

A tribute to Lusk will take place before Saturday’s competition, and the event’s medals will carry his name and a small cross.

“What made Lusk so popular was his style of just being such a mellow, cool dude,” says Brian Deegan, 34, a freestyle motocross pioneer who was a close friend. “He just let his actions speak for him.”

And now Lusk’s friends and fellow competitors are letting their actions do some talking.

Part of Lusk’s legacy is the creation of the American Freestyle Motocross Assn., which was formed to provide a voice and safety services for pro and recreational riders alike. It also will serve as a sanctioning body for events that adhere to strict safety guidelines, including the placement of emergency medical technicians on site during competitions.

Beyond that, some veteran riders are considering easing away from a relatively young sport -- freestyle motocross made its X Games debut in 1999 -- that is progressing so quickly it’s difficult to keep up with the complex nature of tricks, all of which carry heavy consequences if not executed properly.

“It isn’t as much fun as it used to be, because it used to be easy stuff,” says Ronnie Faisst, 32, a veteran rider from Temecula. “Now you’re happy when you finish riding for the day and you’re in one piece.”

Some riders have even turned to religion, perhaps in part because the sport is so dangerous. Lusk had recently been baptized and, just days before he left for Costa Rica had the words “In God’s Hands” tattooed prominently across his chest.

A coincidence? Faisst doesn’t think so.

“I believe God was using Jeremy’s life and his death for the kingdom,” he says.

Lusk viewed the competition in Costa Rica as an opportunity to build his resume and fatten his wallet. He was the premier rider at an event devoid of many top stars.

But conditions were not good at Ricardo Saprissa Stadium in the capital city of San Jose. Gusts of wind -- a freestyle rider’s worst enemy -- tore through protective tarps. Lusk appeared to have been blown off-course as he attempted a trick he had performed many times before -- a back flip with an upside-down body-extension seat-grab across a 100-foot jump.

Lusk pulled himself back onto the seat in time but the bike did not fully rotate and landed on its front wheel and handlebars, the rider pitching forward and plowing head-first into the dirt down-slope.

Without readily available access to transportation to a private facility that might have been better equipped to deal with head injuries, Lusk was whisked to a public emergency hospital. Patients “were people just stacked in rooms on top of each other,” says Deegan, the winner of 10 X Games medals and co-founder of the edgy Metal Mulisha apparel company that sponsors his racing team. “There were holes in the walls. The floors were dirty. The sheets had blood all over them.

“It was by far the gnarliest thing I’ve ever been through; even worse than any surgery I’ve had and any near-death crash. I’d much rather go through those than have to deal with losing a friend like that.”

Deegan, who has a place on the American Freestyle Motocross Assn.’s advisory board, hopes that the organization will be able to steer riders away from similar far-flung events whose safety standards might not be up to par.

“If our name isn’t on that event, hey, you’re going at your own risk, and we’d really rather that you don’t go to those events,” Deegan says. “But if you’re a member and you crash there, well, we’re going to help you anyway.”

Asked whether the establishment of the association might be perceived as acknowledgment of the sport’s increasing danger, Deegan said it was not.

He maintains that major injuries incurred by top riders have decreased in recent years, and credits the use of foam pits during practice, improved ramp design and stringent safety precautions at premier events such as the X Games, which in 14 years has not had a fatality attributed to any of its competitions.

However, progression exacts a high price. Freestyle motocross nearly lost another top rider two weeks ago at a competition in Madrid, Spain.

Australia’s Cameron Sinclair, like Lusk and Deegan a Metal Mulisha rider, crashed while attempting a double back flip, a trick many openly wished would be retired after Travis Pastrana unveiled it during the X Games’ best-trick contest in 2006. Having suffered a brain injury and memory loss, a ruptured liver and several broken bones, Sinclair is still in the hospital.

Acknowledging that serious injury is part of the sport, some riders are starting to wonder if the rewards are worth the risks. Deegan, who once crashed so violently that he lost a kidney and doctors asked him to provide last words for his family, has retired from freestyle motocross and races off-road trucks. He’ll compete at the X Games in rally car racing and Moto X Step-Up, which essentially is high-jumping on a motorcycle.

Faisst will compete in freestyle motocross despite a string of injuries he has incurred since 2006, most recently a bruised spine. He’s not sure how much more abuse his body can absorb, though, and is looking forward to a career teaching motocross techniques for beginners.

“Most of the time when you hit the ground out there you usually break something,” he says. “You usually get surgery that night because you’re falling from 30 feet and going 20 or 30 mph over a 100-foot gap.”

Todd Potter, 24, who last year won the X Games gold medal in the Moto X Best Whip discipline, and claimed bronze in the best-trick competition, will participate in three disciplines, including freestyle motocross.

But like his elder teammates he anticipates a future with fewer competitions and more demonstrations -- possibly with truck racing and freestyle instructing.

“I’m kind of established in a sense and I really don’t need to go out and kill myself,” he says.

As for the trend toward finding religion -- particularly among the notoriously hard-edged Metal Mulisha riders -- perhaps it’s understandable given what these athletes endure. Says Deegan, a father of two: “We risk our lives every day and your life will change when you almost die, I’ll tell you that right now.

“For me and guys like Faisst and Lusk, we have this other side to us, too. We’re going to church and making sure that when we die, we’re going to heaven. And that’s one of the things that helped me get through this. At least I know he’s in heaven and one day I’ll see him there.”

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pete.thomas@latimes.com