Roller Derby: The Great Equalizer
You’ll hear the phrase “roller derby saved my soul” tossed around quite a bit, and I’ll be honest -- that hasn’t quite been the case for me. What it has done, though, is given me athletic confidence at 33 that I’ve never possessed before in my life. That, in and of itself, is a significant achievement.
I was never the type of girl who played sports -- mostly because I’ve always been physically (and socially) awkward and have embarrassed myself far too many times to ever take sports seriously. It wasn’t that I didn’t work well with others; like many introverts, being social wasn’t my favorite activity, but I could deal with it if need be. The real problem was that my automatic reaction to something being thrown at me was to flinch, and always seemed to bring to mind the notorious Clueless retort that Dionne gives to Amber after she claims that she can’t be involved in anything where balls are flying at her nose: “Well, there goes your social life!”. And that was fine. I was perfectly happy being a book reading, mosh pit dwelling outcast in high school and throughout college. I’ve consistently avoided anything reminiscent of competitive gameplay, and figured that I would always be that way.
Fast forward to 2015 -- married, well into my teaching career, two beautiful children -- and I see a flier at the local Starbucks. “Join Roller Derby! Answer your call to greatness!” Roller derby? My interest was piqued. The only things that I knew about it were what I had seen in an episode of King of the Hill where Luann and Peggy play, and the movie Whip It with Ellen Page, but still, I was intrigued. Roller derby to me had always been the most punk rock sport that there was. Tough girls beating the shit out of each other as they raced around a track. Beautiful. Add to that the fact that it was frequently touted as predominantly being a women’s sport, something that we rarely get the privilege of claiming, and I was sold. I removed one of the tear-off tabs from the flier on the wall that seemed to be taunting me. Daring me. Take me, they seemed to call. What have you got to lose?
And it was true. I was (and still am) in this mode where I was trying to take on everything that interested me, because I didn’t want to have any regrets when I was older. I had already written a book, so I could check that off my list. There were a number of other things that I wanted to do, but was planning to tackle once my kids were more grown up. But right now? Right now, it was time to try out roller derby. If I was going to go for it, then there was no better time than the present. I was still young enough to try it and be able to recover from injuries quickly enough, but even then, one of the great things about derby is that age doesn’t matter. Age didn’t determine your ability or drive or effectiveness as a player. Another thing that doesn’t matter? Your size. No matter how much you weigh or what your body shape is, you have a place in derby. That’s not to say that roller derby isn’t physically demanding (which it absolutely is!) or that it doesn’t require athleticism and stamina (which it absolutely does!), but as long as you have the determination to work hard and hone your skating ability, you can be a kickass derby player. Slender, short, tall, bulky -- there is a place for you. That’s why I call it the great equalizer. It doesn’t matter what you look like, or what kind of an ego you might have -- you’re going to get your ass knocked down by the person whom you least expect, so you’d better be ready for it.
When I got home, I sent an email to the address that was provided and waited for a response. Within days, I was attending an orientation, meeting some of the girls, and being brought up to speed with what the sport actually entailed and a familiarization with the rules and regulations. And in WFTDA (Women’s Flat Track Derby Association), there are a lot. Regardless, I attended the practices, made gigantic strides in my skating ability, and have actually gotten a feel for the gameplay. Don’t get me wrong -- I suck. I’ve been learning how to play for seven months now, and I still have a long way to go. But the truly amazing thing is that I believe in myself as an athlete. I can see how much I’ve progressed from the beginning, and I honestly believe that I’ll just keep getting better. Even when I struggle I know it’ll only a matter of time before I’ll pull off whatever skill is challenging me, whether it be transitions, or backward skating, or being aggressive. Me, the girl who dropped Zumba out of embarrassment because I was told by some of the ladies in the class (with a patronizing pat on the back) to not worry because “you’ll get it eventually”, was now strategically knocking into my opponents on purpose and moving in a synchronized pack with other girls. As an added bonus, I’ve been so incredibly fortunate to be part of a team with the most encouraging, caring, hardworking, dedicated, toughest bitches that I could ever hope for.
Whatsername from the RebelTown Rollers