B-Dog - Pass The Bone (feat. Edjoy & Philou Poirier)

Profile and significance

Édouard “Edjoy” Therriault is a Canadian freeski original from Lorraine, Québec, born in 2003, whose blend of creativity and big-ticket execution made him a fixture on World Cup broadcasts and a cult favorite in modern park skiing. After grabbing global attention with big air silver at the 2021 World Championships in Aspen, he added World Cup podiums in both slopestyle and big air, a start at the Olympic Winter Games, and multiple appearances at the X Games. In June 2025, still only 22, he announced he was stepping away from the World Cup start gate to pursue film-forward, art-driven skiing—leaning into the same “frequenski” ethos that has always set him apart. His partners mirror that identity: he rides for Atomic and pours creative energy into projects with Monster Energy, streetwear collective Capeesh Supply, and Québec core retailer D-Structure.

Therriault’s nickname hints at the program. “Edjoy” is both a persona and an instruction: make skiing read like live music. The approach shows up in trick selection, in how he punctuates lines, and in edits that mix painting, filming, and sound design. He is a true crossover—contest-tested yet unmistakably an artist on skis—whose output resonates with park skiers, judges, and casual viewers in equal measure.

Competitive arc and key venues

The progression beats are clear. In 2019 he won junior world slopestyle gold at Sweden’s Kläppen, a venue renowned for shaping world-class park skiers. Two seasons later, at Aspen’s Buttermilk, he landed a clutch final-run switch double bio 1800 to claim silver at the FIS World Championships—Canada’s best big air result at that level at the time. He followed with a first World Cup podium in slopestyle at Font-Romeu in January 2022 and then a big air silver on the stadium jump at Beijing’s Shougang Park in December 2023. Along the way he earned starts at the X Games in Aspen, a setting that rewards both amplitude and personality.

These sites are more than pins on a map. Kläppen compresses decision-making into clean rail work and measured jump speed. Buttermilk demands multi-feature flow under cameras and crowds. Font-Romeu’s Pyrenean light and rhythm emphasize landings that preserve speed. Shougang’s permanent city big air, framed by repurposed steelworks, tests commitment under pressure. As he transitions from tour stops to film missions, expect those habits to translate: precise approaches, trick variety with purpose, and outruns that stay quiet without showy recoveries.

How they ski: what to watch for

Edjoy’s trademark is timing. He commits to grabs early—safety, tail, or blunt to taste—and holds them long enough to calm the axis and keep the shoulders stacked. It’s why his spins, even at 18 and 19 rotations, read as deliberate rather than frantic. Switch entries arrive with proper drift control, not skid; takeoffs are tall and patient; landings finish over the feet with speed intact. On rails he prefers decisive lock-ins and exits that protect line momentum. Nothing feels accidental, yet nothing feels over-coached—the rare balance of skate-inspired looseness and contest-grade precision.

When evaluating a Therriault lap, look for spacing. He leaves room between moves so each trick sets up the next one. Look also at how the grab choice stabilizes the spin instead of decorating it; that discipline keeps axes clean even when the rotation count climbs. The effect is skiing that plays beautifully at normal speed and rewards frame-by-frame rewatching.

Resilience, filming, and influence

World-level highs came early, but the story since 2024 has been autonomy. Injury spells and the grind of qualification reshaped his priorities, culminating in a 2025 decision to step away from World Cup big air and slopestyle. Rather than soft-pedaling, he redirected the same intensity toward projects that merge street features, backcountry booters, and visual art. The result is a rider who still treats difficulty as a canvas, just without the clock. Because he communicates his process—why a certain grab choice steadies a bio axis, how to build speed into short landings—his clips double as teaching material. Younger skiers imitate his patience into lips and his habit of finishing tricks early enough to ride away with composure.

Influence also comes from tone. Edjoy champions style as substance, not garnish. The mantra—be your own jazz—encourages skiers to choose tricks that suit the venue, then execute them with rhythm, not panic. That perspective travels well, whether the setting is an urban kink in Montréal, a spring line on Whistler’s public park, or a single-hit stadium jump.

Geography that built the toolkit

Therriault grew up lapping the Laurentians at Tremblant, where cold Quebec nights and compact snow teach honest edge angles and measured speed checks. As his calendar expanded, the places became teachers: junior world gold at Kläppen reinforced variety and flow; Worlds silver at Buttermilk validated composure on camera; a first World Cup slopestyle podium at Font-Romeu rewarded terrain-reading in variable light; big air silver at Shougang Park proved he could deliver under stadium pressure. Those venues—and the communities surrounding them—explain why his skiing feels centered no matter the build.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Edjoy’s current hardware is straightforward and functional. With Atomic he uses park-capable platforms built for pop and predictable swing weight, ideal for early-grab, measured-spin skiing. Energy and production backing from Monster Energy keeps the cameras rolling when a project needs multiple build days. Apparel from Capeesh Supply and shop support via D-Structure tie him to the creative, rider-run side of the sport.

For skiers trying to borrow from his playbook, the actionable notes are simple. Choose a symmetrical or near-symmetrical park ski and mount so butters and presses feel natural without sacrificing stability on takeoff. Keep edges sharp enough to hold on steel but soften contact points to avoid surprise bites. Pick goggle lenses that preserve contrast at dusk, typical of evening sessions at city-style venues like Chur and in flat light common to alpine bowls. Most importantly, treat the grab as a control input: locking it early stabilizes the axis and keeps landings clean.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Édouard Therriault matters because he reconciles freeskiing’s two big impulses—art and sport—without diluting either. He owns a world championship medal, World Cup podiums, and Olympic and X Games credentials, yet he’s equally committed to film segments that advance style, sound, and story. The skiing itself is readable at full speed, the choices are intentional, and the execution holds up under the brightest lights. Whether you watch for slopestyle craft, big air nerve, or the next wave of street-influenced edits, Edjoy offers a blueprint: creativity first, mechanics tight, momentum preserved. That combination is why he sits near the center of freeski culture even as he steps away from ranking points and leans harder into the work that made his name.

Profile and significance

Philip “B-Dog” Casabon is a Canadian freeski icon from Shawinigan, Québec, whose style-first language—presses, butters, nollies, reverts, and shiftys that breathe—reshaped modern park and urban skiing. He rose through night laps at his local hill, Vallée du Parc, and became one of the most influential riders of his generation by proving that creativity, definition, and flow can outweigh brute force. His cultural footprint is matched by hardware: back-to-back gold medals at X Games Real Ski in 2018 and 2019, plus the 2018 Fan Favorite nod, cemented his status as a peer-elected standard. In the same window, he released the widely praised film “En Particulier” with Brady Perron and was named Freeskier’s Skier of the Year, a rare double for a rider focused on film and street. Casabon matters because he made style specific and teachable—clips that hold up frame by frame and a movement language that any progressing skier can study and apply.

Competitive arc and key venues

Casabon’s competitive résumé is unconventional by design. Early in his career he tested himself in slopestyle at Aspen, making multiple Winter X Games appearances when the discipline was still defining itself. As urban skiing’s broadcast moment arrived, he shifted to segments and rider-curated showcases that better matched his voice. The pivot paid off: his 2018 X Games Real Ski gold, delivered alongside the Fan Favorite award, was followed by a repeat gold in 2019—rare back-to-back wins that confirmed his dominance in the all-video, all-street format. In the culture-defining B&E era at Les Arcs, he collected “Best Style” honors in both 2014 and 2015 on a skate-inspired setup designed to reward touch and originality. Those landmarks—Aspen’s spotlight, Real Ski’s medals, and Les Arcs’ style awards—map the arc of a skier who used competition as a proof-of-concept for ideas refined in edits.

The places tied to his name help explain the skiing. Vallée du Parc gave him the repetition and switch comfort that show up in his lines. Aspen’s big-build tempo at Aspen Snowmass taught wind calls, long decks, and pressure management under cameras. The B&E park at Les Arcs encouraged butters into spins, long presses, and transfers that value feel over amplitude. Together they shaped a rider who reads features instantly and turns modest speed into full sentences of skiing.

How they ski: what to watch for

Casabon skis with economy and definition. Approaches stay tall and neutral. He sets rotation late, locks grabs early—often with unmistakable tweaks—and lets the trick breathe rather than rushing the set. On rails, the signatures are square entries, long-held presses and backslides that are obvious to the eye, surface swaps with minimal arm swing, and exits where the shoulders stay aligned so momentum carries into the next feature. Even when the spot is complex, he organizes edge pressure early to keep the base flat through kinks, which is why his landings read inevitable rather than rescued. On jumps and side hits the same patience appears: pop comes from the feet up, grabs are defined before 180 degrees, and the upper body stays quiet so the skis do the storytelling. The result is a blueprint any rider can study—calm entry, patient pop, early grab definition, square-shoulder exit.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Casabon’s influence runs through films and community projects as much as medals. He built a decade-long catalog of replayable segments, culminating in the late-2010s run that paired Real Ski golds with a festival-tested film presence. The work emphasized honest speed, horizon awareness, and compositions that make slope angle and body organization clear—choices that help viewers learn, not just watch. In the B&E era, his partnership with Henrik Harlaut created a platform where style was the scorecard, then pushed those ideas back into parks, streets, and product design. Interviews and long-form conversations from this period reveal a method that prizes durability over hype: habits you can repeat when conditions are imperfect and cameras are rolling.

That durability—plus a willingness to mentor—keeps his influence alive in a generation that learns from edits. Coaches use his clips to illustrate patient setups and clean exits; riders break down his presses and shifty timing to build their own lines. He is both reference and proof: you do not need the world’s biggest jump to show world-class skiing if your movements are organized and your choices are clear.

Geography that built the toolkit

Place explains the method. Shawinigan’s Vallée du Parc is a human-scale hill where repetition is abundant and mistakes are obvious. Night laps there forged the switch comfort, precise edging, and patience that define his rail game. The spotlight and wind at Aspen Snowmass layered in big-feature timing and composure. The creative modules at Les Arcs rewarded a horizontal vocabulary—presses, butters, wheelies—that Casabon helped popularize, proving that expression at low to medium speeds can be as compelling as amplitude. When you trace the map, you see the fingerprints in every clip: local-hill repetition, big-park patience, and skate-park creativity applied to snow.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Casabon’s long relationship with Armada extended far beyond sticker placement. His pro model BDog and the experimental BDog Edgeless in Armada’s Zero Collection were designed to serve his priorities—predictable flex for presses and butters, confidence on switch landings, and swing weight that stays honest on slower-speed pops. The gear lessons for progressing skiers mirror that logic. Choose a true park ski with a balanced, medium flex you can bend without folding. Detune the contact points enough to reduce rail bite while maintaining dependable edge hold on the lip. Mount close enough to center that presses sit level and switch landings feel neutral. Keep binding ramp angles that don’t tip you onto your heels. Then build a process that matches the hardware: film laps, compare shoulder alignment and hip-to-ankle stack against a short checklist, and repeat until the movements become automatic. The setup is the scaffold; the habits are the house.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans care about Philip Casabon because his skiing ages well. The clips prioritize timing, organization, and line design over noise, which is why they survive slow-motion scrutiny years later. Progressing skiers care because the same choices are teachable on normal parks and real snowpacks. If your winter looks like night laps on a small hill, weekend missions to a destination park, and a few street sessions with friends, his blueprint shows how to turn limited speed and imperfect conditions into memorable skiing. The medals—back-to-back X Games Real Ski golds and Fan Favorite in 2018—are milestones; the lasting takeaway is a method: calm entry, patient pop, early grab definition, square-shoulder exit, and a flow that connects a run into a single sentence. That is why B-Dog remains essential viewing for anyone who cares about freeskiing’s style, substance, and future.

Profile and significance

Philippe “Philou” Poirier is a Québec freeski pioneer from the Laurentians whose skating-influenced style and fearless switch takeoffs helped define the sport’s jump from old-school freestyle to modern slopestyle, big air, and superpipe. Growing up around Mont Tremblant, he became one of the first names on twin tips to prove that landing and taking off switch on full-size jumps could be normal. As a young pro he connected with the New Canadian Air Force era around Salomon, a moment that pushed twin-tip design and a new movement language into the mainstream. The turning point was 1999, when Poirier won the U.S. Freeskiing Open Big Air—still one of the era’s watershed results. By 2002 he had added an X Games SuperPipe bronze, confirming that his influence extended beyond jump sessions to the biggest halfpipe stage of the time. In 2017, his home region’s hall of fame recognized that impact, listing him as a co-creator of freeskiing’s new branch.

Why he matters today is simple: the habits you see in current slopestyle and urban clips—calm approaches, patient pops, grabs defined early, exits that keep speed—were visible in Poirier’s skiing when the sport was still drafting its rulebook. Watch any of his classic segments and you’ll see a vocabulary that ages well because it’s built on organization rather than spectacle.

Competitive arc and key venues

Poirier’s competitive rise was fast and consequential. The U.S. Freeskiing Open Big Air title in 1999 announced his name to the wider scene, with the winning run remembered for a switch backflip thrown on a then-huge jump at a time when switch landings were still shocking. In January 2002, at the first X Games Ski SuperPipe staged on the Aspen/Buttermilk course, he earned the bronze medal—proof that his touch translated to the most unforgiving format in freeskiing. Around those milestones, he stacked notable quarterpipe and big-air podiums during the Gravity Games and Orage/Whistler cycles that set the tone for early-2000s progression.

The venues tied to his name explain the style as well as any results sheet. Mont Tremblant gave him repetition and switch comfort on compact laps. Spring and summer sessions at Whistler Blackcomb honed the big-feature timing and wind reads that show up in his pipe and quarterpipe runs. Film and park weeks at Mammoth Mountain added Superpark-scale spacing, where patient takeoffs and early grab definition decide whether a trick reads cleanly. And when the U.S. Open circled through Vail, the elevated stage reinforced his capacity to make difficult ideas look inevitable under lights.

How they ski: what to watch for

Poirier skis with economy and definition—the same qualities coaches still try to teach. Into the lip he stays tall and neutral, sets rotation late, and locks the grab before 180 degrees so the trick breathes without scrambling his posture. On rails and quarterpipes he favors clear, long-held positions—presses and backslides that are obvious to the eye—then exits with square shoulders so speed survives for what comes next. In superpipe the cadence is measured rather than frantic; he carries true speed, keeps the upper body quiet, and lets the skis tell the story with drifted, stylish spins that land on edges already organized.

The tell in his jump skiing is how calm the entry looks. There’s no rush into the set, no premature wind-up; the pop comes from the feet up, and the grab is defined early enough to frame the axis. That clarity is why his skiing still holds up in slow motion and why modern riders can use his clips as a checklist for their own laps.

Resilience, filming, and influence

While podiums introduced him, film segments cemented Poirier’s influence. In the years bracketing his U.S. Open win and X Games medal, he stacked parts that showcased high-speed switch approaches, strong pop, and clean landings on terrain that left little room for error. Those segments circulated widely in the VHS/DVD era and taught a generation how to move with purpose rather than noise. As brands leaned into rider-driven storytelling, his presence around Salomon helped connect product evolution to the techniques that actually make skiing look good on camera.

The institutional recognition that followed—his induction in his region’s hall of fame and continued references in retrospectives—speaks to durability. Styles change, but fundamentals don’t, and Poirier’s skiing was built from fundamentals that later became the sport’s default settings. That is why his name still appears when athletes and filmers trace their own influences.

Geography that built the toolkit

The Laurentians supplied the base layer: short vertical, night skiing, and feature-dense parks around Mont Tremblant that reward accuracy and quick resets. Spring and summer blocks at Whistler Blackcomb added repetition without midwinter variables, plus the patience required for longer decks and faster lips. Sessions at Mammoth Mountain layered in Superpark-scale spacing and California’s big-sky winds, which punish rushed takeoffs and sloppy landings. Contest weeks in Aspen at Aspen Snowmass pressured those habits under broadcast lights. Trace those places and you can see their fingerprints in every clip: local-hill repetition, destination-park patience, and composure when it matters.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Poirier’s brand chapter with Salomon coincided with twin-tip development that changed how skiers approached features. The practical lessons for riders today are straightforward. Choose a true park ski with a balanced, medium flex you can press without folding; detune contact points enough to reduce rail bite while keeping reliable edge hold on the lip; and mount close enough to center that switch landings feel neutral and presses sit level. Keep binding ramp angles that don’t push you onto your heels so you can stay stacked over your feet. Most important is the process Poirier’s skiing exemplifies: film laps, compare shoulder alignment and hip-to-ankle stack against a short checklist, and repeat until the movements—patient pop, early grab definition, square-shoulder exits—become automatic.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans care about Philou Poirier because his skiing reads cleanly at real speed and even better at half speed. He proved, early, that style and consequence could coexist, and he did it with movements that remain teachable decades later. Progressing riders care because his blueprint fits normal parks and real snowpacks: calm entries, grabs that lock early, and exits that preserve speed work as well on a Tuesday night lap as they do under a contest scaffold. From the switch backflip that shocked a U.S. Open crowd to a bronze run in X Games SuperPipe on Aspen snow, the through-line is the same—a durable method that turned a new sport into something you could learn, repeat, and evolve.