Talk Derby to Me

I am an American Man. I love red meat, alcohol, sports and the Stars and Bars. Of those four things, three are able to be specified further. I, personally, can say I love Carl’s Jr., Miller Lite and, well, it’s kind of hard to decide nowadays, because I recently was exposed to a new sport that is so unbelievably cool and exciting, it is seriously challenging hockey and baseball in my little personal book of what I love. This epic, gut-churning, circus-type-atmosphere, violent, sexy, fast paced, high scoring, nail biting sport is none other than ROLLER DERBY.

First of all, for any of you out there doubting my sincerity here, go jam your ass with a four wheeled skate. I am totally fucking serious here. Myself, Uncle Aaron, K McVayze, Omega and Nicky Chop Chop were fortunate enough to witness in person this past Saturday, the opening bout [yeah, they call matches “bouts”] of the 2010 L.A. Derby Dolls season, and it did not disappoint.

Secondly, for any of you who have any idea what Roller Derby is, you probably don’t. I guess back in the 70’s, female Roller Derby was almost like male professional wrestling. A lot of oooh and ahhh inspiring brutality, but not a whole lot of legitimate competition going on and a shitload of fabricated story lines intended to make the spectators care about who won the bouts, somehow. I can say, however, that 21st century Roller Derby is completely real. That’s the first thing you’ve got to understand about this sport. It is a sport, first of all, and on top of that, it’s a pretty fascinating competition.

Quickly here, the point is not to hurt your opponents, that just happens to be an incredibly cool side effect. The point is for one member of a five person line of skaters to lap the other five opposing skaters. Each defending skater (of which there are four, plus the opponent’s offensive counterpart) is worth a point, and they can be lapped more than once in a 60-second round. So what you get are two skaters skating really fucking fast around a circular track, UNTIL they run into the pack of 8 defenders.
This is where the carnage begins, and believe me, it is fucking brutal. You can tell when some of these chicks go down, like, they need the Chris Farley sound bite to play over the loudspeakers everytime someone goes down, “That’s gonna leave a mark!”



The most epic takedown we saw was shortly before halftime, when the red-headed Varsity Brawlers’ Vik Timizer took out the blazing fast P.I.T.A. on the opposing Sirens. This impact was so vicious they had to bring out a guy to repair a quick fix of the embankment of the track, in addition to medics to check up on P.I.T.A. These types of run ins happen all day long; I think the medic was summoned at least thrice (I mean, summoned to the site of the injury, they had a medic on the infield the whole time). They also stated over the loudspeakers that when the medic is needed, as the rest of the referee squad and skaters take a knee, none of the spectators are to leave their seats, in case a skater needs to be removed and a clear exit is needed. REAL ENOUGH FOR YOU?!?!?!?! Luckily, P.I.T.A. returned in the second half, but we could see purple blood coming through her bandaged left thigh. This shit would make most “real” athletes piss in their sleep.

But here’s the thing, the game is very strictly regulated. There are both minor and major penalties, and competitors can be barred from the game for too many infractions (given, the magic number is 24 (minors) or 6 (majors)), but still, eventually true hazards are ejected. There’s no elbows, no punches, no grab ass and hair pulling; a legally executed block or take down or whatever you want to call it is essentially like a hip check in hockey. These mini races, complete with checking, occur dozens of times throughout a 60-minute bout, and all of them are exciting as hell. Speed meets pain and high flying scoring, and yes, you knew I was getting to this: EXTRAORDINARILY HOT WOMEN.

Holy hell, if you are a fan of the fairer sex, be prepared to see some of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on wearing essentially porno-quality fantasy costumes beating the Christ out of each other for your enjoyment. I mean, these are athletes, their bodies are tight and lithe. And sweaty. And in spandex cop costumes. And they’re angry. They’re the type of girls who are totally calling the shots in the sack, and I am all right with that. I would let any of these chicks rip my dick off and ravage me with it, that’s how uncontrollably sexy every single one of them is. The eye candy is unbeatable by any other public display. 80 back up dancers for a Britney Spears number? Pish posh. Cheerleaders at a football or basketball game? Pass. Pride Crews at minor league baseball games performing during mid inning on top of the dugout? Well, you get it.

Y’know when a chick genuinely likes sports, it’s kind of a turn on? Well these chicks play sports. On top of that they play a sport that no one dares teach us to play as kids. Well, except now they teach it, but that’s besides the point. This sport is so cool, played by the coolest athletes I’ve ever seen, it is a shame this isn’t broadcast nationally. I’m lucky because I live in L.A. and the scene seems to be supportive and only growing, and I guess there’s quite a few federations across the nation, but man, if you haven’t seen this shit in person, you are missing out.

But I haven’t even talked about the aforementioned SCENE. The “Dollhouse” is actually just a converted warehouse in Philipinotown. They pat you down hardcore before you go in (seriously, these Derby Security guys are more thorough than the TSA (I’m serious, it’s kind of a concern of mine now)). They don’t allow cameras of any kind because, I can only assume, no photographic evidence can capture the essence of this experience. There’s a whole side venue of merchant vendors and a stage and stuff. There’s no alcohol allowed because they sell it there. There’s local food trucks and restaurants setting up shop outside. There’s bitchin’ hype up videos played before the bouts, there’s a giant roller skate shaped disco ball hovering above the track, there’s a meet and greet with the girls who just competed afterwards, then an afterparty at some bar in downtown L.A. The whole thing has this neighborhoody, local, underground, damn near illegal feeling to it. You truly feel like you’re taking part in something special and one of a kind. It’s like, uh, it’s, just, IT’S FUCKING AWESOME, OKAY?!?!?!

And I’ll leave you with this. As an avid live sports fan, who counts the various venues and stadiums and players I’ve seen and been in as merit badges for my coolness, this was the first and only time I’ve ever heard an entire arena finish the last four lines of the Star Spangled Banner in unison.

Stars and Bars, baby.

-Druska