Calling Off the Jam

This weekend my league is holding try-outs for subpool, the tiny team of no-longer-rookies who practice with the team skaters and sub on bouts in hopes of getting drafted to a team. It only happens about twice a year. It’s the first time there have been try-outs since I came back to derby last winter.

I didn’t sign up. Read more

moving up

Whenever someone from my non-derby life starts to ask me questions about my derby life, I inevitably immediately disappoint them.

Quick aside: I feel the need to explain that once you join roller derby your life splits right in two. You have the life you know, the one with your friends and family and loved ones, and then there’s this other life that your friends and family and loved ones are completely baffled by. One where you have a second set of friends and family and loved ones, but these people all spend time physically harming each other. You spend an extraordinary amount of time with these people, and sometimes you never learn their real names. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. Read more

Called Out (or: soup and Vicodin for breakfast)

I am hurting. Hurting, people. My body is bruised and contused. I am kind of a hot mess, and I think I have about ten minutes before this Vicodin kicks in proper, so let me try and get these stories out. Our little rookie game needs ticket sales. It’s a cheap game, it’s all ages, it’s on a Saturday afternoon, and it’s way more fun if you are there.

Please buy tickets to the Baby Doll Brawl. Send your friends, grab a group, make an afternoon of it. Something. Because there’s been a tremendous amount of blood, sweat and tears (no really, all three) put into this bout. Ticket sales pay our rent. We skate for you and we can’t skate without you. And thanks for those of you who have been supporting us all this time, coming to our games or buying merchandise.

So, three quick stories.

I’ve learned that while I normally bruise extremely easily, my face seems to be the exception. I’ve taken a few accidental blows to the head over the past couple of weeks — an elbow to the temple, and elbow to the other temple (same girl, one week later, opposite elbow), a skate to the chin, a shoulder to the cheek, a full-on forehead-to-forehead smack that seemed straight out of a deleted scene from Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and lastly… oh, man. Read more

Next Bout! (featuring ME!!)

Saturday, June 27, 2009 — Beginning at 3 p.m.

Double your derby! Double your fun!

L.A. Derby Dolls host TWO bouts in ONE day of all-girl banked track roller derby action!

Buy Tickets Online Now!!

The day explodes at 3 p.m. with an exciting exhibition of LADDs newest skaters, known as the Baby Doll Brawl, featuring the latest, greatest rookie skaters. Baby Doll Brawls are known for two things: being an all-ages bout (so you can bring the whole family including the kids), and featuring some of the most spectacular, cringe-inducing hits and spills. The rookies are hungry to prove themselves as future Derby Doll stars and they play it like they mean it. Read more

bam.

Oh, like you don’t do this on your weekends?

I’m working on my Roller Derby Debut entry. But until that’s finished, there’s this.

Pamie Creates a Pile-Up from Glark on Vimeo.

I’m the girl in the blue helmet, rounding up the back, slamming to the rail causing my teammate (sorry, Kiss M’Grits, I stepped in too early) and the opposing jammer (HELL, yeah! That’s what I was trying to do) to fall to the ground. This isn’t billiards, people. It’s not slop as long as the right girl is eventually on the ground.

That girl you hear screaming, “MINNIE, SKATE! MINNIE, SKATE!” is co-manager Trixie Biscuit. She must have been standing right next to my brother Glark, who takes awesome pictures, some of which I even allow on the Internet.

Taken.

About sixteen seconds after you finish your first derby practice you start to think about your derby name. It becomes pretty much an obsession. Every name you hear gets twisted into a violent and/or sexy pun. It might seem silly, but it becomes an all-consuming task, because you are essentially naming your alter ego. Your permanent Derby persona.

You see, you have to pick a name that nobody has. Nobody in the entire roller derby… world… league… thing. There’s a registry. And you can’t take someone else’s. That means when you’re driving down the street and you suddenly think to yourself “Canna Whoopass!” you will be disappointed when you finally get to a computer to find that awesome name to be taken.

Same with Lorelai Killmore. Taken. Rory Killmore. And Killmore Girls is a team. All taken. Read more