A pocket-size skateboard changed Néstor Videla’s life when much of the world was stuck at home. The retired metalworker from Argentina learned fingerboarding from his son during the pandemic, then watched his first trick videos travel far beyond the family table.
Now 74, Videla is recognized by children and parents at gatherings, while some of his clips have drawn millions of views. His appeal is not only about performing tricks at an unexpected age.
It is also about a rare kind of role reversal, with young riders teaching adults and one grandfather becoming a bridge between generations.
A lockdown lesson from his son
Videla did not set out to become an online personality. During pandemic isolation, his son already practiced the discipline and showed him one of its basic moves, the ollie.
An ollie is a jump that lifts the board into the air without a hand grabbing it. On a fingerboard, the index and middle fingers act like a skateboarder’s feet, pressing and guiding the tiny deck. Videla practiced until he could raise the board cleanly with both fingers.
Then came a simple upload. Videla posted himself landing the ollie, and the clip quickly drew attention. That changed everything.
What fingerboarding actually is
So, what exactly is fingerboarding? It is miniature skateboarding, with a small deck, metal wheel mounts called trucks, wheels, a textured top layer called grip tape, and many of the same obstacles found in a full-size skatepark. Riders use two fingers to imitate jumps, flips, and rail slides.
Videla describes the board as “practically the perfect imitation of a skateboard.” Some ramps and rails can be carried to demonstrations, while larger setups recreate an entire skatepark across long tables.
He said one dedicated meeting place in Buenos Aires has several practice areas measuring about 8 to 10 ft. long. Entry is free, and children can practice both fingerboarding and skateboarding there. A tiny board can still need plenty of room.
Where children teach their parents
Videla usually attends on Saturdays with his son, who helps him get to events and sessions. The space fills with young riders, many accompanied by parents who sit nearby and share mate, a popular Argentine herbal drink, while the tricks continue.
In this case, the usual family lesson is flipped. Instead of adults showing children what to do, seven- and eight-year-olds often teach their fathers how to control the miniature board. That scene helps explain why Videla has become such a warm presence in the community.
He is old enough to be many riders’ grandfather, yet he enters the same learning process as everyone else. Miss the landing, reset the board, and try again. In other words, age matters less than patience.
How one ollie reached millions
Videla believes the timing helped his account grow. Fingerboarding gained attention online during the pandemic, and he said his age helped the clips stand out. “This came out of nowhere,” he said of the sudden attention.
His son remains central to the videos. He films the moves, slows down the footage, and gives viewers time to see details that might disappear in a fast clip. Without that slow motion, Videla said, people may not fully appreciate the trick.
The interview mentioned two very different follower totals, 224,000 and 27,000, so it would be careless to present either number as settled. The more reliable takeaway is the reach of individual videos, which Videla said climbed to 2 million and 4 million views. “I can’t believe it,” he said.
The hobby that gave him new energy
Viral numbers are only part of the story. Videla said messages arrive from around the world, including voice notes from very young children who struggle to pronounce every word but still want to greet him.
Those exchanges appear to matter more to him than gifts, product exchanges, or online recognition. “This gives me life,” he said, summing up what the hobby and its young community have come to mean.
Away from the miniature ramps, his routine is familiar. He and his wife help care for their grandchildren and take them to school while their adult children work. He still describes himself simply as a grandfather, even as strangers recognize him at fingerboarding events.
More than a pandemic pastime
What began as a way to get through isolation became a shared project between father and son. One learned the tricks, the other filmed them, and together they found an audience that crossed borders and age groups.
There is a practical lesson in that journey. New hobbies do not always arrive through formal classes, expensive equipment, or carefully planned goals. Sometimes they begin with a family member saying, “Try this,” and a small board sliding across a table.
At the end of the day, Videla describes the community, not the view count, as the real reward. The board may fit in a pocket, but the world it opened is much larger.
