GET IN THE RING.... I MEAN TRACK

In the past year and a half or so of being involved with the coolest ladies in the Derby World, the Des Moines Derby Dames (biased opinion), I have changed.  I've dropped weight, I've loved and lost and loved and lost, I've learned things about myself, about women, and I have made some amazing friends.

Now, it's time for the next step in the evolution of Stunt Rocker.  No longer am I willing to watch from my perch off to the side and slightly above the track only. In the last month or so I have come to the realization that I am a Derby Boy, and that means strapping on pads, rolling my G-Rods and playing.

Since my earliest days in derby, I heard rumblings and rumors of this thing called "merby" or "dangle derby". I remember the first time the incomparable ref Crash Hartless, talked about it at a Val Air Ballroom practice, it sounded cool.

Yesterday night I had my first scrimmage in practice. I've been skating the outside, working on my turns, my toestop runs, doing the drills whenever I can with the D3 Ladies, and generally making myself into a not crappy skater. It all came together at the practice for YOUR MOM MEN'S ROLLER DERBY last night. I felt confident, I felt like I had finally come to the point with turns, stops, agility and not continual falling on my arse that I could get in a scrimmage.

So there I was, ready to block with Your Mom, and two of the D3 stars, Elbow MacFearson and Stella Italiana. Thinking about this now, I almost get misty eyed, these are two of the best players on D3, ladies who would be stars on just about any team out there. They are both also class acts whom treat me like family, and having them on the same side as me made any and all nervousness melt away. I just needed to focus, and do what I needed to do, help out people, and not get trapped behind in the pack by the amazing skaters on the track.

For the most part, I did ok. WAY better than I feared I was going to. I need to keep my elbows down, I have that awful rookie tendency to "chicken wing" my elbow up when I make contact with other skaters, and that will cause me penalty time if I ever get in a game.  I also need to just practice more, learn what I am looking at from the MUCH DIFFERENT point of view on the track. Still have a mountain of work to do on wheels, but this showed me that I ain't talking out of my butt when I say I can and will do this.

I took a hit on the shoulder from Big Truck, coach of the Mid Iowa Rollers that was totally legal, and rattled the teeth on the opposite side of my head, and a couple times I got stuck behind Seahorses Forever, trapping me in the back of the pack.  Seahorses is perhaps the best positional blocker on the planet, and trying to get around his skinny white arse is extremely difficult for the best skaters, for me it's nigh-impossible, at least, without help from my teammates. Let a couple of the jammers through when moving just a little bit one way or another would have closed a gap, but not bad for my first practice, and at least twice, it was a "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME" situation. As in, the jammer slides through, inbounds, using a space about as wide as a hotwheel car "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" Or the jammer FLIES between you and another blocker, in the air... "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

I would never have gotten this far without some people who I need to thank. The Des Moines Derby Dames and D3 Crash Test Dolls. You Ladies are the best of what women have to offer, and your love and support, your help and hints make it really easy to do the work. I love you all.  Also, the coaches from D3, you take me seriously, and push me just like any of the Dames or Dolls, I appreciate it. Coach Dante, Coach Ozone, Coach Famous, Coach Explo, you are all damn good coaches.

Your Mom, all of you guys are great, you let a fat pud (now a sufficiently less fat, less pudlike guy) come in and treat him like an equal, even with all the skating talent and skill you have.  Thanks.

Now I need to go mainline some advil and find an ice pack that covers my entire body.

Derby Drop and the Day Off

See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans,
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile--
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams,
Which he spent like they was goin' outa style--
And he keeps right on a'changin' for the better or the worse,
Searchin' for a shrine he's never found--
Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse,
Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down--

Kris Kristofferson - The Pilgrim, Chapter 33 (Hang on Hopper)

Now, Stunt, what the hell does that have to do with Roller Derby?

Well, it's because for some people, Derby becomes a life changing, soul filling, nigh obsessive compulsive facet of who we are as people. It becomes your social network in real life, determining what we do, when we do it, and who we do it with. 

When bout day comes, Saturday is a blur of activity, often starting early in the morning and ending late at night.  It in itself provides a high that no drug can compare to, a rush of activity and awesomeness that only being involved in something as amazing as this could. 

Then... Sunday comes.

You aren't a rock star anymore. You aren't a golden god, or filled with awesomeness. All you have the next day is the hangover from the afterparty, and a feeling of being emotionally drained. 

This can be fought, by being with people. By doing things, getting a meal, seeing a movie, hanging out with friends and loved ones.

This can be problematic, as for many of us because Derby seems to attract people who either don't have a metric f-ton of friends, or are prone to letting other friends slide as we spend more and more time at practices, bouts, meetings, ticket sales parties, promotions, etc. 

So, we have Derby friends and friends we don't see. As the smaller social groups within a league ebb and flow, new people come in, old people go out, people hook up, people break up,  outside relationships start and end, school starts, jobs change, and any of the other 3000 factors that influence who hangs out with whom outside of actual Derby league functions. 

 So, this friends, is why some of us, (NOT JUST ME) get so down at times. You can't live life at 11 without the demons coming screaming in. So to my Sisters and Brothers, when YOU get the Derby Drop, don't wallow in it, don't make yourself a social pariah. Call someone and have some non derby fun

He's a poet,

 he's a picker--
He's a prophet,

 he's a pusher--
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned--
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.

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