Like anything else, there are a few things about roller derby that really piss me off. Mainly it’s having to engage in the same dumbass conversations, over and over about what roller derby IS NOT:
We’re not all lesbians—but the sight of some of these booties in the tiniest of hot pants will definitely make you want to check yo’self from time to time.
I don’t have anger issues, that’s not why I play Roller Derby. Aggression, it turns out, this form of socially unacceptable self expression, is fun, that’s why I play Roller Derby. That and I want to be able to bounce quarters off of my ass. It’s a great party trick.
When I say, “I play Roller Derby” I do not mean“Roller Derby, like they used to have on TV”. I have never choked my archnemesis by her helmet strap, nor have I ever bitten one of them, thrown a chair at anyone, or pushed some chick over the “Wall of Death” all while narrowly avoiding a pit of alligators.
Yes, we actually consider ourselves athletes. We practice and strategize, and all that shit that “real athletes” do.
But the whole, “I bet ya’ll fight all the time, I mean, 40 women, on the rag all the time”, is quite possibly the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard. Because, everyone knows that vaginas and ovaries turn the most mild mannered of housewives into blood lusty savages. Sorry to burst your porn bubble guys, but there’s really not much catfighting going on around these parts, on the track or off!
Generally, the parties with whom I am forced to endure said conversations with come equipped with a pair of balls. And, once I have dispelled all myths of naked proportions, they have almost entirely lost interest in engaging me further in conversation, thank God. But occasionally, I’ll run across someone who is genuinely interested in finding out what roller derby really IS:
Roller Derby IS:
An excuse to wear knee socks and fishnets everyday; the fast track to a smokin’ hot ass. Something that I look forward to more than sex. The first time most of us chicks ever fit in. And a good fucking time!
Some of the best friends you’ll ever have. Six months ago, when I got thrown in jail, my derbies were the first people I called. I wasn’t even on the TEAM anymore, yet these bitches worked round the clock and managed to get 3500 BUCKS in bail money donated to the “Get Tuesday Out of Jail Fund”! Fortunately I only need $400 of that, and 11 days later after a visit with a very reasonable judge, one of my girls came from a Zombie Bike Ride, in full make-up, to bail my sorry ass out of jail! Then when they shipped me off to rehab, they threw me a “We Wish You Weren’t a Sot So You Wouldn’t Have To Go Away” party. They’ve taxied me to and from work, and practices, and visits with my probation officers. (Yes, that’s plural, I have two probation officers. Go big or go home, right?) And when I told my wife I’d gotten my 90 day Sobriety Chip, she clapped and gave me a big hug, even though she had no idea what the hell I was talking about. She just knew that it was a big deal to me. My mom has been my biggest cheerleader, but my teammates are a close second.
So, if you don’t already have a derby team, I suggest you rush right out and get one, because you probably won’t find friends like mine anywhere else.
Photos Courtesy of: www.biz/ed.com, www.catfight.typepad.com, www.rollerderbysavedmysould.com, and www.thederbyproject.com