Marc Smith was 8 years old when he bought his first yo-yo from a pharmacy in Amenia. It was a bright orange Duncan Butterfly — the only model on the shelf.
Now 37 and living in Bangall, Smith hasn’t put yo-yos down since. What started with basic tricks like “throw and catch” and the classic “sleeper” evolved into his lifelong passion. “I always had a yo-yo in my pocket,” he said. “When I started driving, I kept one in my car, too.”
A father of three and former land activities manager at Silo Ridge Field Club in Amenia, Smith says playing with the toy is more than just a fun pastime. “Yo-yos helped build my self-confidence,” he said. “I learned how to focus, how to be good at something.”
During the COVID-19 pandemic, he practiced two to three hours daily. These days, it’s closer to 10 minutes. But the joy remains, and he’s found a new outlet for sharing it.
In February, Smith launched a yo-yo club at the Stanford Free Library, where he also serves as a trustee. Open to children in fourth grade and up — along with a few newly registered adults — the club offers hands-on instruction and demonstrations from Smith’s personal collection. Library Director Christa Cerul said the group currently has 13 participants. “I particularly love that the club is bringing in both kids and adults,” she said. “It’s really cool to see.”
One of the regular members is Smith’s youngest son, Everett, 6, who has recently begun learning from his father. After deftly performing “boingy-boing,” a trick which resembles a cat’s cradle in motion, Everett pointed to a faint red line on his right middle finger, the result of months of practice. “My dad calls this the mark of madness,” he said, smiling. “Dad has one; now I’m getting one, too.”
Yo-yos date back to ancient Greece, where terra-cotta discs with strings were pictured in use on vases and have been found in archeological digs. The modern version gained popularity in the United States in the 1930s, when entrepreneur Donald F. Duncan began mass-marketing yo-yos as a children’s toy. Today’s yo-yos, far more advanced in design, feature precision bearings and specialized shapes that allow for complex tricks once thought impossible.
There are three popular forms of yo-yos. Smith said his old orange butterfly Duncan is a fixed axle — it simply travels down a string and returns when tugged, and can’t sleep (or spin freely at the bottom) for more than about 10 seconds. Responsive yo-yos contain ball-bearings that allow them to sleep for up to 30 seconds. Unresponsive yo-yos are internally built to sleep for several minutes, returning only with a more complicated trick called a bind, in which the player wraps the string around the yo-yo’s gap, causing it to climb up the string.
Yo-yo shapes and materials vary: Some look like wings or back-to-back bowls; some are made from plastic, aluminum, or metallic combinations. Even the string material — usually polyester or a synthetic blend— can make a difference in performance.
Smith explained that advanced tricks — with names like “time warp,” “seasick,” and “Schmidt twist”— can be difficult to master. Many involve intricate string patterns and controlled spins. “Some tricks involve swinging the yo-yo around,” he said. “I’ve ruined a few pairs of glasses that way — but luckily never my teeth.”
The yo-yo craze exploded globally in the 1990s, and the toy has remained an international crowd-pleaser. According to Smith, yo-yo aficionados meet on social media sites like Instagram, where “you’ll find lots of yo-yo talk.” Bought and sold on websites like eBay, yo-yos can cost as much as $700. “It’s because of the machining and use of materials like aircraft-grade titanium which minimizes vibration and friction,” he said. “My most expensive yo-yo is $150.” Boutique yo-yos protected in logoed bags are also popular: Smith makes and sells limited edition yo-yo pouches on commission.
Competitive events are part of the culture, too. There are annual statewide contests, a yearly National Yo-Yo League competition, and an annual World Yo-Yo Contest, which was held in Cleveland last year. Smith entered the 2019 Coney Island New York State Yo-Yo Contest. “I was so nervous, I knotted the string in my yo-yo, and my backup yo-yo, too,” he said. “The judges waited and watched as I untangled the knots and started over, but it wasn’t so bad because the crowd cheered me on.” Although Smith didn’t place, he’s ready to try again, possibly with his son.
Each month at the library, Smith brings his case of 18 favorite yo-yos — out of his collection of 100 — to club meetings, using them to demonstrate tricks to eager members. “If I could get even one kid enthralled in yo-yos, that’s everything for me, more than any job or pay could do.”