Editor’s note: George Gore Browne is a regular contributor to Misspent Summers through his B-Zone bulletins from DH World Cup races and reporting for our downhill yearbook, Hurly Burly. GGB is also a big fan of other two-wheeled sports including supercross, so we helped him blag a press pass to a recent round of the 2026 AMA Supercross series, the Anaheim 2 event. The following is a mountain biker’s view of a world of sports stadiums, engine fumes and spectator in-fighting.
ANECDOTES AND ANAHEIM
Notes from a parallel universe
Written by George Gore Browne
My friend and colleague on the downhill World Cup circuit Tony Seagrave hates it when I mix motocross and supercross references into my usual column of comments, concerns, and complaints. I lose track of his point among his sea of enthusiastic blasphemies about this, that and the other. Most of my time spent at races is that of the downhill mountain bike kind, thanks to a childhood interest that’s somehow just about evolved into a career. But ‘our’ season opener – the first 2026 DH World Cup, in South Korea, this 01-03 May – is still a long way away, and the kind people of SuperMotocross provided me with a press pass. So, please indulge me in a little supercross, or more specifically, my account of Anaheim 2 – the third round of the 2026 Monster Energy Supercross Championship.
I first attended a supercross race back in 2014, a real perk of my study abroad program at the time – when a young German racer named Ken Roczen made his full-time 450 class debut and took the win, ahead of multi-time champion James Stewart, who crashed out in dramatic fashion while leading. Simply put, supercross is a motocross race squeezed into a stadium upon a man-made course, and the sport has already written itself quite a history book. Following a boom in popularity of motocross racing in the 1950s and 1960s across the USA, the first supercross race, dubbed ‘The Superbowl of motocross’, took place at the Los Angeles Coliseum in 1972. In a wild twist of events, the man responsible for this event, Michael Goodwin, can now be found in prison serving two life sentences for the murder of racing legend and once business partner, Mickey Thompson, and his wife Trudy. Who would have thought such a rocky conception could lead to supercross today, regularly filling stadiums nationwide for 17 rounds a year, from January to May.
Eager to maximize my press pass and make some ground-breaking journalistic discoveries, I arrived early to Angel Stadium, located neatly next to one of Orange County, California’s many, many freeways, to watch the practice sessions. Bikes roared around the damp, sticky track as riders had just two 12-minute sessions during the day to learn it and post a lap time that would set their day in motion. There was a slow trickle of fans milling in and out to watch their favourite riders practice, but the real crowds would arrive many hours later. I sat high up in the stands to get a good view – a stadium janitor passed me by, checking the condition of the stadium’s many green seats, often filled by avid baseball fans, sometimes as many as 45,000 to be precise. While Angel Stadium has become an icon in motorsports, its usual function is to host the Anaheim Angels as they play Major League Baseball, competing in the ‘World Series’, which, conveniently, doesn’t leave North America. In a few hours, those green seats would be full of avid supercross fans. Come April, any sign of a dirt track will be long gone, and the baseball fans will return.
Like most sporting events in the USA, the afternoon’s proceedings began with a live performance of the National Anthem. While I won’t be wandering into the murky waters of American politics in this narrative, the dedication to the Anthem is something unique and special to this land – an affronting experience to my typically unpatriotic British nature. But I live here now, so I take my hat off, avoid eye contact, and take in the moment, in all its glory.
Racing began with heats, whittling down the final participants for the main events. Honda’s Chance Hymas and Yamaha’s Haiden Deegan took the 250 class heat wins, championship contender (and the cause of my surprising sense of British pride) Max Anstie finished second to Deegan, and Kawasaki’s Levi Kitchen got the crowd to their feet with an unintentional but well-executed front flip. Among the fans, there is a very clear dress code, and I failed to meet it. (Aren’t they cold dressed like that?)
Back on track – following a disastrous 2025 season, Jorge Prado continued to rebuild his profile with another 450-class heat race win, while his KTM teammate Eli Tomac grabbed the other top spot. Kawasaki rider Chase Sexton’s rough and tumble season continued in the heat with a front-end slide to face plant in the sand section and Aaron Plessinger, fondly known as The Cowboy, was unapologetically bucked from his bike, somehow remounting to still seal his position in the main event. The top eight qualifiers from each class proceeded to the mains, while the remaining riders would be sent to the Last Chance Qualifier, a sort of last-ditch death match to save the fortunes of their evening.
I headed out of the press room for a quick moment of calm and saw fellow Laguna Beach resident Nyjah Huston in the halls – supercross draws many a celebrity appearance from far and wide, especially during the series’ Southern California swing. There was even a gentleman called Yung Gravy, who, after some research I discovered had nothing to do with a Sunday roast.
The 250 main event, running for 15 minutes plus two laps, began with a Yamaha taking the holeshot. Instead of Deegan or Anstie, who have taken many of the headlines over the last two weeks, it was their West Coast division teammate, Michael Mosiman, who set a strong pace early and kept a charging Deegan at bay for much of the race. With under four minutes to go, Deegan passed his teammate and took off, securing his second victory in as many weeks, and the ninth in his career. Deegan might be making enemies fast with his on-and-off-track antics, but there’s no denying he’s the man to beat in the 250 class. It wasn’t clear in the press room rules whether joining in with the booing was frowned upon, so I refrained.
Right as the 250 class podium interviews wrapped up, I heard a roar in the stands to my right. A brawl had broken out. Not UFC 324, happening just 264 miles to our east, but right in front of my very eyes. A woman in a black jacket certainly brought the most aggression to the match-up, landing more punches than her opponents, but there was no clear winner, unlike in Vegas, where Justin Gaethje beat Paddy Pimblett by unanimous decision.
The blare of the music intensified, and the revs were up once again – this time, for the 450 main event, the highly anticipated crescendo of the evening’s racing. Suzuki’s Jason Anderson secured his first holeshot of the year and an early lead – with title contenders Sexton, Tomac and Hunter Lawrence all in dogged pursuit. Lawrence passed Sexton early, only to give up the spot soon after, as Sexton continued to increase his pace, moving forward to pass Anderson and secure the lead. Lawrence moved into second and put on a charge but ran out of time to catch the Kawasaki rider. Championship leader Tomac finished in third place, while contender Roczen finished a distant eighth. I’m sure I could feel their warmth as flames fired up into the sky from the finish line, marking Sexton the main event winner. Rolling around the track in a victory lap, he slapped the green fender of his new bike, a moment of celebration for the Kawasaki team, who had not enjoyed a 450 class win since 2022.
I cleared away the orange peel from the many I’d consumed during the main events from my workstation and headed through the bustling crowds. They were all eager to get onto the 57 Freeway in first place, and I was headed to the press conference. (Note: The press room was quite the luxurious experience, and I’m concerned about my return to the regular spectating classes.)
The press conference was a striking contradiction for the senses. After three hours of cheering, revving, and general calamity, top finishing riders sat peacefully with their teams in an underground stadium hallway, waiting for their turn to answer questions from the media. Sexton shared with the media his relief after a difficult period, stating that ‘It’s been a long few months, going back to the crash at the Vegas SMX finale. That was not good for me. It’s hard to get back here, honestly. It’s been a journey.’ Meanwhile, Mosiman shared his appreciation for the moment, explaining that, ‘Every time I go to the gate I look up at the stands, see all the fans and make sure I appreciate the moment. We put in so much work just to be able to perform, and when that happens, it’s just an amazing feeling.’
I left the press conference to meet my now supercross superfan girlfriend and head home – the only noise left was construction vehicles heading into the stadium to tear down the track. It’d been quite the day, and all those green chairs sat empty once again.
