Crunch time

Photo Credit to
James Calder Photography

I have been on this roller derby journey for almost exactly one year and in that very short time I have: put on skates for the first time in about a decade, worked my butt off just to learn the most basic skills, completed the meat camp of a WFTDA charted team, passed my assessment to become a real league member, was drafted by a home team, and for my first home team season, I was lucky enough to be able to play in every single home team bout.

... but that could all change. In a little less than 3 weeks, my team will take the track with the goal of taking home our league's Skate of the Union championship trophy. While my team is incredible and supportive, they're also very competitive. Some would say to a fault, but those people are usually on other teams. This means that when May 12th rolls around, you can guarantee that 14 ready skaters will be on the roster and I want to be one of them.

I know that as a rookie I am just as much, if not more, on the cusp than some of the other incredible women on my team. After all, nearly half of my team is on the All Stars, another 2 have been on the travel team at some point, and several more could if they wanted to. There is no shortage of talent on my team.

I've learned at this point that my own mental limitations do more damage to my skating than any physical ones, but with the help of my team I'm starting to realize I'm faster, stronger, and know more than I give myself credit for. Now it's just a matter of remembering that every time I put my skates on.

I'll be busting my ass these next three weeks, but maybe this focus is what I need. Whether I am rostered or not, I'll at the very least be more focused and have a good start on next season.

p.s. I'm not saying I'll be very happy about not being rostered. I'm allergic to losing in any capacity, but I guess I will take it in stride. Wish me luck.

The real work has begun

When you first get the roller derby bug and strap on skates for the first time in a decade or more, I think you assume that the toughest part is going to be learning to skate again and all of those nifty skills there seem to be an infinite number of. If, like me, you made this assumption, you would be wrong.

When I first started skating, I couldn't do a crossover without methodically planning it out and working up courage for 5 minutes first, but in no time it wasn't even something I had to think about. Most of my skills progressed like this. Some things are still harder on one side than the other and some skills definitely need some work, but I can at least do them.

Next, you have to figure out how to put it all together. After all, it doesn't matter if you can hockey swerve all across the track and stop on a dime, but if you don't know how to use that swerve to your advantage in a jam, what good is it? All of those lateral movement drills weren't just to teach you to move from side to side, they were so that you could be an effective derby player, even at a standstill - which let me tell you if you don't know, is damn hard.

Not only do you have to know when to use all of these skills, but you need to execute at pack speed. This is where I am. This is where I think the hard part sets in. Not that I ever did, but even if I wanted to I couldn't blame my newness on letting the opposing jammer up the inside line or not getting with my partner to keep a goat or not being able to make a timely, fluid switch from defense to offense.

Once upon a time ago I used to go into practice just hoping that I could keep up, that I could do the drills. Now every drill, every practice is about getting the most out of it. Getting better, faster, hitting harder, being more precise. I want to be a player that my teammates are glad they are lining up against and not a liability. I want people to look at me as an asset on the track.

Dare I say it... I want to be feared on the track. Maybe that's a little vain, but from vanity comes confidence and almost nothing good happens without that.

Laissez les bon temps roulez!