Every Bunny Loves Derby!

WTF! WFTDA is testing out a new rule set where there’s NO MINORS!? …but I thought refs liked minors? Just kitten, but I feel sorry for the refs if the rules are changed. It’s a fierce look you get when you call a major. Not like Tyra Banks fierce, but like…Are-you-sure?-Because-I-could-come-claw-your-eyeballs-out-if-you’re-not!-type of fierce.
We are the pioneers of modern roller derby. We have to let some change happen to move into the future. I can dig it, just hope we don’t get dysentery along the way. Honestly, my only objection is that I might have to take another rules test. But then, I can be petty.

Before I get to the point, I want to take a second to tell all ref crews everywhere- Thank you! For keeping the game clean and fair. For knowing your shit, and calling us on it. And for… you know, insubordination. In penance, for my fouls, I give you;

































This whole issue has me thinking about fouls…well, that and the fact that I came one minor from expulsion in our last bout. So here, for your perusal, is a list of foul trouble, and how to avoid or end it.

Failbows

You’re doing one of two things. Either you lead in with your elbows before a hit, or you push off your victim with your chicken wing after you’ve landed a hit. Either way you have to relearn that, because it’s a habit. When you go in for a hit, take your arms out of the equation by pulling them ahead of your torso. Land hits with your body and your hips, not your elbows. Take a few practices off shoulder checks and just use that ass. You could be compensating for weak lateral movement- so work on it.

Sprawling

Getting called for Tripping or a Low block? Work on your four point falls, and tuck like a turtle. In some cases you can avoid a foul by showing a ref that you’re trying to fall small. And work on your foot work- hop like a bunny or skate outside.

Flailing

Flailing is never good, it happens though. Someone hits you off balance and you instantly act like a starfish. Work on your form and your core strength. If you stand up a lot during practice, stop it. Randomly spend time on one foot-arms at your sides-until people at the office start calling you “Flamingo Girl” behind your back, but you don’t care, you don’t flail.

Being a Dick

Passion. That’s your only excuse, and you didn’t think of it until the third shot of tequila at the after-party but now, you are really sorry for that outburst in the second half, and your only excuse for it is passion. So in the future, if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. And I’m serious; if you aren’t a captain or alternate, don’t talk to the ref crew until the bout is over. Also, you should probably get laid more often if you’ve got so much passion lying around.

OVER THE LINE!

This is not ‘Nam, there are rules- and lines. You can get yourself in all sorts of foul trouble if you aren’t aware of your position in relation to the track lines. First, you have to really give up the idea that maybe no one saw you cut the track. If they didn’t this time, they will next time. It may seem like the easy route, but making it a habit is a shortcut straight to the box.

Nextly, you have to come correct, when you re-enter the track from the box, you must really come in behind the pack. If you’re re-entering from being blocked out, be certain that you don’t come in ahead of anyone who was in front of you when you went out…and if you aren’t certain, come in behind the pack. Basically, you never want to improve your position on the track by leaving it.

If you’re getting called for out of play penalties it’s because you never give up! But when a jammer is fifteen feet out and gaining speed, you need to really rethink your line of attack. Where are your friends? Go find them.

Those are a few examples but below is a five step program to help us conquer foul trouble.

Step one: Show some respect.

The referees at your practices are volunteers just like you. And they are practicing, just like you. Plus, they have feelings-just like you, and like unicorns. And you wouldn’t scream at a unicorn would you? So don’t be a douchebag, Douchebag.

Step Two: The refs are ALWAYS right.

And before we move on. You’re going to have to get real fucking comfortable with that. Even if you burn an official review, what the ref saw and called is what will stand. So say it with me. The ref is always right. In reality, your job is to play and their job is to determine if you fouled. So do your job and let them do theirs.

Step Three: Read a fucking book.

Read and re-read the rules. Ask questions, do research. Become interested in the rules and use them to your advantage. This is your sport-learn it inside and out.

Step Four: Know thy fouls.

Get very interested in the fouls you get called for. Know what you do wrong so you can correct it. Ask a ref to help you understand the fouls you get. For a few, it will only take a couple humiliating trips to the penalty box before you repent of your foul and change your ways. For the rest of us it’s practice, practice, practice.

Step Five: Sometimes the refs are wrong.

It’s going to happen, you will be called for something you didn’t do. So accept it, and get to the box. Don’t waste time arguing because sometimes you’re wrong. And the refs are always right.

And now for the moral of this story. In all of history, there has never been and never will be another you. Unless you’re a twin… or cloned… then there is kind of another you but generally speaking, you are the only one, whoever gets to be you. Lucky you! And just like we learned last time that your actions are who you are… so will you be remembered. What I’m getting at is, be remembered for all the great things you do, not for being in the box.

…..omg it was sooooo hard to get through that whole post without making a single BOX joke!

It stings. You’re name isn’t listed on the roster or you didn’t make the team. Although you know it’s not, this feeeels personal.

You check the other names on the list, silently cursing each one. You believed you were good enough to make it, and now disappointment sets in. You’re going to need a minute to digest this. It’s ok, take your time. I know. Cry, pout, scream-Get it out. And when you get done chuggin that haterade, get on the track.

“A man is the sum of his actions, of what he has done, of what he can do, Nothing else.”

Mahatma Gandhi said that, so did Aristotle and I just said it: All very intelligent individuals. So give yourself a moment to be disappointed that you didn’t make a roster, or the team you wanted, or a league. But don't spend all day. Next take an inventory of your practice habits. Take in some feedback. Then get to work, son.

Above my bed I wrote “You = Your Habits” in big black letters with little stars. So when I wake up every morning, I’m reminded to do the things that I want to be. The stars are just for decoration. I’m reminded that an all-day-hate-a-thon makes me a hater. But a skate-athon? Well, that’s what will put your name on lists.

Remember when we talked about being posi like it’s going out of style? Do that. Instead of focusing on the idea that someone didn’t pick you for their team, find the reasoning in it. Is there anyone who can’t improve? Everyone has something they need to work on.

Focus on your speed, agility, strategy, endurance, thoroughness, teamwork, communication, foot work and foul trouble. Try that Pivot panty on. Triple threat yourself. And try to have a positive fucking attitude! Practice. Practice. Practice.

Be so busy practicing that you forget about the lists. And watch- you start to focus on this moment, this scrimmage, this practice, this drill, that jammer-your coaches will notice. They’ll put a little star right next to your name.

I was waiting for a bus for like an hour in the sweaty part of summer. It was around Sixteenth and Penn in Indianapolis and I was wearing a miniskirt with two toned tights and a black teeshirt…and checkered knee high socks…and gray New Balance…with a big bag and a sparkly green helmet. Toootaly blending in. A few guys came up and asked if I was a prostitute, no, cool, thanks for asking. A third guy approached but didn’t ask right away. What’s my name he asked…. “uhhh Buuuuuuuunnie? Yes, Bunnie, that is my name”…shit that makes it sound kind of worse. I looked down at my colorful outfit.

“Well, Buuuuuuuunnie where are your friends?” Then the bus came. And the whole ride I thought about that question. Then I wrote a metal song about it.

(Metal Voice)Fucking Teamwork. That’s what I’m fucking talking about. I’m talking about your fucking friends. You want some friends? Go to practice! They are fucking everywhere! Fucking friends! Fucking everywhere! Everywherrrrrrrr!!!

You have to imagine it with a double bass drum and it kind of speeds up at the end.

Then there’s hand claps, I made up a whole routine. But you know what I mean- no matter how badass another team’s jammer is, it’s a whole lot harder for her to pass two of us than just one. Together we can control her speed and position-and not just the jammer. We can control the whole pack- together.

And the only trick to teamwork is practice time. That’s the main ingredient. Plus you want a fucking friendly disposition. So spend time with your friends. When you spend time together on the track- and off it- you begin to learn each other, trust each other, and anticipate the next moves of one another.

When it’s hard, and it is, just remember you aren’t alone. You have a whole team full of people who are working towards the same goal. It’s easy to lose sight of the important shit when you focus on yourself. When you’re muscles are burning it’s easy to believe you alone are in your pain. Don’t forget about the girl next to you who came even though she has a blister covering the ball of her foot. She still came- to play with you. Derby is a very tough sport. It’s a rare chick (or dude) that will actually do it. So here we are, a bunch of rare chicks/dudes, playing the best sport on earth. Start to let a little of that rare-ness go at practice. Try to get that hive mentality.

You begin to see, this sport isn’t just about you. It’s about the one that held the jammer long enough for you to get to the front and help her out. The one who hit you hard when you first came back, and made you smile. The one that hipped you to that great deal at sock it to me . The one who loaned you her stickiest wheels…even though you’ve got a really bad reputation for losing things. We aren’t just friends between whistles, we are comrades. We are a team. It’s us against them. We fucking rock.

And that’s… fucking team work.

Sometimes, just before I fall asleep, I start to slide off the bed. I feel my skates roll out in front of me as I flip backward into deep dark dreamy sleep. It’s the kind of thing that makes you glad you started skating…again, and again. I took a little sabbatical from all things derby and got in touch with my spirit animal (giraffe). Oh, and started a little helmet painting company with my best girl, Beats. Helmet painting? I mean, that’s what people do when they take a break. They think of ways to smash derby into every crevice of their lives…right? Alright, I fail at vacation. It’s been a long time since I wrote to all my adoring fans. Thank you both for your patience.

So where were we? Having trouble switching from offense to defense? Let’s start with the basic definitions.

DEFENSE: You are called a BLOCKER for a reason! SO BLOCK THAT JAMMER! Wall up with your teammates, dominate her out of bounds, slow her down with a plow stop, and trap her in the pack.

When? ALWAYS. The opposing jammer should ALWAYS be on your mind. If she’s on the track you’re blocking her. If she’s in the penalty box, you’re keeping an eye peeled for her reentry. Bottom line is, you are always, always, ALWAYS looking for their jammer. Consider her your personal responsibility.

Offense: Get your girl out of the pack. Block the blocker(s) on her. Break up walls. Take out the biggest threats. Whip and push your jammer though the pack and do it FAST! You are Link and she is Princess Zelda. Go save the fucking day.

When? When you don’t have an opposing jammer to block. Their jammer goes to the box- immediately switch to offense. Their jammer breaks free from the pack- immediately switch to offense. Immediately! And even when you’re helping your jammer- you ARE thinking about that opposing jammer. Because you are ALWAYS responsible for the opposing jammer.

The reason we have to focus so much on defense is that defense is the best offense in town. The longer you keep the opposing jammer in the pack, the more likely your jammer is to get lead. And statistically speaking the more times your jammer gets lead, the more likely you are to win. That’s because getting lead jammer means controlling the jam, it means controlling the point spread, and therefore it means winning the bout more often. So no matter what I’m about to say; your number one priority is ALWAYS to block the opposing jammer. Still a little confused?

Introducing: The Five Second Rule

The rule is, when the opposing jammer leaves the pack: You have five seconds to get your jammer through the pack.

Seems simple huh? But five seconds is more like an instant when you’re in a jam. So, let’s break it down.

You have been relentless, but something happened and the opposing jammer broke free from the pack. From that second, that “OH-SHIT-SHE-GOT-AWAY!”-moment, that’s when you start counting.

Five…Four…Three…Two…One…and back to BLOCKING THAT JAMMER!

Five. Find your Jammer

Four. Who is holding her hostage?

Three. KEEEEL THEM!

Two. KEEEEL THEM MOOORE!

One. FORGET THEM! Where is the opposing jammer?

Still confused? Just remember, as a blocker you have only two options- either hurt their jammer, or help your jammer. The most important point here is that you should be doing WORK 100% of the time.

If you’re still uncomfortable in a pack, stick to defense. If you’re getting more comfortable try using the five second rule to switch back and forth from defense to offense. Before you know it you’re a work horse and that’s the best kind of horse to be.

I had this dream where the world was about to end and this huge spaceship was filling up the horizon and it was the future so you can imagine all the buildings were sleek and tall. Everyone was about to die and then I saw this tiny little fish. Only it wasn't a fish since it was swimming in the sky, not water...anyway it was swimming and somehow I knew- This thing is the messenger. And somehow- I guess since it was my dream- I got to be all in charge of everything. The little fishy alien squished it's way right up to me and blurted out that the big thing in the sky about to kill everyone was it's mom. I hysterically screamed- "TELL HER TO STOP!!!" I pointed and commanded the thing to high-tail it back to the ship and make waves! It pouted and looked at the sky then back to me and shrugged saying, "No, I can't do that... I'm too small. " I was furious at the stupid alien fish thingy. How, I struggled to imagine, could you see the end of the world approaching and not even try to stop it?! I woke up still shaking my head. It bothered me all day. I thought of all the ways I should have killed the little bastard. I shook my head weeks later- even today- wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

Well that's interesting.

The first "specialist" I saw about my knee was pretty wimpy. The doctor and two of her interns crowded around my knees, frowning, pushing and pulling and talking code for "I don't know." I left with no idea what was wrong with me and a list of excersizes I was sure were actually meant to piss me off. They were inner leg lifts and a few stretches. How the fuck am I ever going to play roller derby again with this sorry excuse for rehab?? I was pissed. Ice. Elevate. Be pissed. Ice. Elevate... But I'm persistant.

I went to a fancy knee center- with a real gym inside it. They specialize in knees AND sports injuries. AND they took a bunch of x-rays. It was fancy. I waited in a little room on a little bed covered with a thin sheet of paper that stuck to my now atrophied thighs. I was trying to guess at what he might tell me. I tried to prepare myself not to burst into tears if he said my knees had taken all they could handle and derby was no longer an option. Is this the end? My shoulders sagged and I must have looked pathetic when he burst through the door.

A few minutes later, after my legs had been suffeciently man handled and he'd shared a few quizical looks with his accompanying therapist and a few gutteral grunts, the doctor spoke. And his first question wasn't about what I couldn't do. He wanted to know what I'd been doing to strengthen the muscles around my knee.

I was surprised. The other doctors had said to ice and elevate, do a few lame stretches (while watching House) but otherwise no "pushing it" was ordered. I told him I'd been biking to work a few days a week 13.5 miles each way. He shrugged. "Is that flat land then? Or are you really working hard?"he asked suspiciously. I smiled. I already liked him.

I took the stairs down to the parking lot sporting a seriously goofy grin. I sent my derby wife an all caps text with about ten exclamation points-for safe measure. And as I setteled in to my daily commute I started thinking of which gym I'd be going to, what machines to use, what my goals would be, and then... why hadn't I been doing these things months ago?! What had changed?

It's so wild that such a small thing- like a few good words from a doctor- can change everything. Well, that's fucking interesting...man.

You can change everything by changing your mind. If you believe it, it's already the truth. So go ahead and try it out. Next time you start to feel like you should just coast off to the side and maybe sit down for a second, maybe take a breather... check this Handy Index of Excuses and follow the prescription.

I'm Tired
Play smarter. Take big deep breaths. And stop whining- Everyone is tired! This is Roller derby!

I Need Water
Yeah. And are you going to die of thirst before this drill is over? Think about kids in Haiti. Maybe they're thirsty too. But do they stop in the middle of drills to go get water?

I'm gonna PUKE!
Cool man. Remember to hydrate and get right back in, we need a jammer.

I need to stretch.
Ok. In fact, why don't we all just stretch. And we'll take off our skates and get mats. We can put on Moby and we'll call it Yoga. ...no, but really though. Stretch what you need to stretch. But do it with the quickness, we're down a man.

I'm having an off day.
I'm having an "off" life. That's the reason I play derby. This is your time off from everything else. So whatever's on your mind, get over it and get in the game.

I've got a hang-over.
Such is the life of a rollergirl. Roller girls all over the world got drunk last night. There, I said it. Now you can use that thought as a tiny consolment. and Hydrate.

I have a headache/ cold sore/ runny nose/ stomach virus/ diarrhea...yuk./ halitosis/ backache/ sore throat/etc.
So, are you in or out? Because if you're in, you're going to have to let that all fade into the nether regions of your gigantic brain. You can do anything you want. Even with diarrhea. and Hydrate.

I have the flu.
Fucking go home! NOW! Before you get us all sick! You fucking lunatic. ...but I dig the commitment, dude. Next time, call in.

My endurance sucks.
Wonder why. Here's a news flash- building your endurance actually! (Literally!) physcially! HURTS! But don't worry, it won't hurt as bad next time.

I'm out of shape. I'm too big. I'm too weak. I'm too slow. I'm too small....I'll never make a roster.
Not with that attitude. Decide not to give in to excuses. You should know by now there are no good ones. You either do, or you don't. So put your mouthguard in, and go knock someone down!

Check it out. I think you should act like you're surfing, little hula girl, and skate across that apex of the curve like it's a giant wave. Wanna try?

First take all the scaredy cat- "i'm gonna fall down"- shit and tuck that in your hip. That's where your gravity is so it's your safe place and you need to act like a careful kitty and keep your balance. So, you need to get into position. Hmmm...Maybe this is one of those times when you take off your skates. (It should be a rare time.) Get on the floor in your stocking feet. And then, get in your derby form.


MEMO
Re: DERBY FORM
------------------------------------------
To Whom It May Concern.
Derby Form shall consist of the following:
+ A nice straight back
+An erect constitution. Shoulders back. No slouching.
+Feet shall be placed a shoulder width apart with weight evenly distributed.
+ Knees bent at a 45 degree angle such that the hands, when outstreched shall meet squarely with the knees.
+One should give the appearance of a person not yet sat in a chair and thereby ready to pounce in any direction at any given moment.
+ When in derby form one shall be aware of all that surrounds her/him. A serene knowing look should gaze out to meet any oposition on the track.
-----------------------------------------------------

Anyhow, it's an old memo. Maybe you didn't get it.

Now that you're in form, you need to think of yourself on the apex of a turn. Your left foot is riding the inside line. Reach your left hand down and touch a point just left of your left foot. Bend your left knee deep and tuck your butt towards your heel while you're stretching out the right knee a bit. Pretend that point you're touching is the apex and look out towards the opposite side of the pretend track. Let your shoulders follow your eyes. The wind in your hair... And now your coming back, you're in a chair, at work, wasting company time reading derby blogs....But you were there... you know what it feels like to surf. To glide around a corner and make the floor push away, boomeranging you forward and onto the straight away. Or at least you can imagine.
I think the real secret is in your muscle. If you can harness your muscles and push inside on a turn, while pushing with your legs for speed, you can balance the pull of centrifical force pulling your center out to the suicide seats. It takes practice and muscle...and balls...and faith in physics.
It may sound like it's a lot to go into for just what your position should be at the apex of a turn. But think about all the chaos that goes into one turn. It's a blender. If you can hold your shit on a turn you can do all kinds of fun shit. You can learn to move that kinetic energy into the opposing jammer. You know, those big perfect hits to the out side that send girls sailing. Cool, man.
And think about all those fools who will try to hit you on the turns.. If you have your bearings and you're steady spaghetti you can always Roll out. Rolling out is newer.. it wasn't a memo it was a tweet.

Tweet::@::Roll Out- Get low and in front of a hit. Bend those knees and get super wide and steady. Brace yourelf and lean forward. Roll your shoulders down and towards the inside of the track. Stick your little neck out and push your hips in front of that blocker before she lands the big hit and puts your lights out. And keep skating. Keep skating.

Rolling out of a big hit is one of those useful tools you want to keep handy. You'll save yourself a lot of floor spilling if you can just get low and get out of the hit.


Anyhow, try some surfing and tell me how it goes. Also, dudes, send me some inspiring pictures of you and your league.

Let's talk about something more serious than roller derby. I know!! Is there anything more serious than derby? There's nothing more life-giving than excitement. The thrill of progress and the act of trying give meaning to a sometimes more challenging reality. Life often gets in the way of derby dreams but it also inspires those dreams to exist. I know.

I'll tell you something sad to tell you something beautiful. Last year about this time I woke up in a nightmare. I had to say goodbye way too soon to someone too special to be gone. It was and is a defining moment in my life. I remember crouching on the floor in a mess that morning wondering, “Where do I go from here?” It's only now that I can tell you what miracle saved me from myself in those dark days. The first responders asked "Is there someone you can call?" and there wasn't anyone I could think of but my derby sisters. When I am weak, they are strong. They came and they comforted, and they stayed and they've never been more than one phone call away.

In the next months I stayed in bed. I avoided strangers that love saying, "Cheer up!" and "Smile!" ... dumb strangers. But I was safe at practice. No one was making me try to feel better. No one made me regurgitate the story. And the practices let me forget about the empty house for a few hours. And I was making real progress. I felt that feeling you get... the feeling like you're really alive.

There were times between practices and bouts that I wallowed. I admit, there were some very dark moments, but then there was derby too. It was the singular reason to go on, to get out of bed and live again. When I lost all momentum and felt I couldn't bare one more day I only had to ask myself 'How could I let my team down?' Hell, I rode in rollerstank perfumed cars all summer, shoulder to shoulder with these women. So, how could I cry about being alone?

I’m not saying derby saved my soul, I’m definitely damned to hell... probably for all of infinity or something. All i’m saying is derby saved my life. More than once, and it will again. And that, my dearest friends, is the very beautiful part. I (heart) Roller Derby! And I love my team and my teammates.

But enough about me, don’t you want to know the lesson for today ??
Time is like a blocker- sometimes it gets in the way. That's when you have to knock it on it’s ass and take its point. There will always be obstacles in your way, but you will prevail if you only perservere. Realize you are stronger now than you've ever been and you're only getting stronger as long as you hang in there, kitty.

The best compliment I probably will ever get came from my aunt LaDonna. She said she wished she had been more like me in her life and taken more chances. She said, “You really have some balls, girl.” Damn straight.

Derby is a natural magnet for women with a little venom in their blood. Women with something to prove, a deep need to be challenged and endure. Look around you at a practice, it’s full of scrappy survivors, ready to play. Take a look into the steel eyes of your comrades during battle and you find a glimpse of yourself too.

But since the age of zero we’ve been coddled and dressed in pink, told to be quiet and for christsake be nice. And here we are on the other side of womanhood trying desperately to awaken the five year-olds we once were, playing in the dirt, beating up boys, and acting a damn fool. We got tired of playing nice, so we started playing roller derby.

Now I say that to say this right herr: When you lace your skates and you roll across that floor you must become that warrior that sleeps inside you. You must shake off the decades of doubt and reach deep into the core of your spleen where you will find one giant pair of balls that say, “Oh fuck yeah I can.” I’m telling you, they actually say that. And the reason you truly truly must is this: There is no room for self doubt in derby. It is a mentally and physically exhausting battle and you MUST stay positive to be prepared for the challenge.

You did it. You already decided to play. There are twenty girls at home watching House for each and every one of us at practice. So take a second to pat yourself on the back and realize you are the fucking shit. You rock.

My advice today is this: ban any and all negative thoughts from your head. Saying, “I can’t” is blasphemy. Discouragement is viral so buck up!

Being injured sucks asshole. There’s no pretty way to put it. If I were in a death metal band I would write songs about how deep the hate river flows inside me for bio-freezed knees that keep me out of play. Yep, sure would. And it’d be big in Sweden.

This gimp-ness has got to end! I know a few ways to make sure I’m on skates for a while. I’ll give myself the advice today. I’ll write it out in a nice little bloggity about staying playing and we’ll both read it and say things like, “Hm, sounds like a plan, stan.”

I’m going to start off by doing some inner leg exercises! My knee issues stem from the fact that I have some super strong muscles that aren’t exactly in proportion to the weaker inside muscles. And with hips like “woah” the angle from hip to knee makes it easy for my knee caps to be pulled off to one side. Ouchers! So inner knee exercises it is!

Next up is an Equipment check! It sucks to stand on the sidelines but if your equipment is broke there is just no need to chance the damn thing. I found this out last practice. I should have realized it was a bad idear to glue my skates back together after the boot started to rip from the plate but no, I have a thick skull and thought it would be just fine and dandy. The truth is any little thing can make you skate funny and that leads to more injuries. Also, making sure you have the dopest, thickest pads is KEY to knee heaven.

Then I’m going to get on the floor and work out what doesn’t hurt until I’m all better. Part one of getting better is realizing you aren’t some like super hero. And part two is taking care of your body like a normal person would. I’m not saying we’re normal… we’re rollerderby-uns, and that makes us special but not immune to the physical errors we’d all like to ignore. While I’m working on other things I’ll be throwing myself a posi-party. That’s as in posi-tive. I’ll be thinking of sunshine and rainbows and knocking bitches down. All the things that make bunnies smile. …oh and carrots.

So are ya with me? Let’s make the most of being pissed off that we’re injured. Let's get better and stay better and play better! Yay Better!

The best part of my day? Holding the fastest jammer on our team behind me in scrimmage. Not so fast now, are ya speed skater? ::evil bunny grin::

You’ve got to get in where you fit in, and so what if you’re not the fastest skater on the team. Use what you have, and I’ve got W-I-D-T-H! I’ve got long Bunny legs in a wide stance that can span half the track and a little bunny tail that will be all up in that jammers face. As for speed, I’ve got it side-to-side. I can block her outside and still beat her back to the line. But this isn’t about me and my big head bragging. This is about how to! Right?

Welp, first you set your self to swizzle skating every chance you get. Get comfortable, really comfy, with all eight wheels on the ground in fluid motions. Swizzle skating is the basis for all great blocking. And if there is one thing you should master it is the swizzle in all its very simple forms. “But why Bunniebunbun? What’s so great about slaloms? What’s so fancy about an hourglass?” you ask. And I say some explicative but then really to address your questions I’d offer this little gem right herr; with all eight wheels on the ground, with a solid and wide stance, with your shoulders turned in to the left and your eyes peering magnificently into the eyes of that hurried jammer, with all that going for you, why not?

My brandest newest advice: Swizzle your heart out. Let swizzling be your automatic gear. Work on widening your stance by sitting down into it. Let your shoulders guide you around the track, always turned the direction you’d most like to go. And of course keep those eyeballs peeled!

Once you’re comfortable, really comfy, begin to challenge yourself by lunging across the track from inside to outside and outside to inside in just one strong move. Do it faster and control it more each time. You’ll notice that the positioning of your toes and shoulders will determine your course while the thrust and change in your body weight distribution determines the speed of this lateral movement. You want to point yourself in the right direction while basically throwing your weight hither or thither, depending.

This is the kind of skill that will neutralize those bronze-baby-skate-havin-grand-slammin-jammer types. Work hard on these things and soon you’re going to be one hard to get by blocker!

Sike! Nah, but really though...

I wouldn’t want to meet me in a dark alley lately. I am such a blonde bunch of aggression right now. I think it’s all because of derby, or the lack. I can’t skate for a minute and all the sudden I’m ready to rumble!

I couldn’t skate last week at a scrimmage because I did something doubleplusungood to my knee the week before. I didn’t take care of an older injury and ended up making it much worse. Boo! (No worries though, it’s on it’s way to healing up real good and proper this time.)

I watched the scrimmage between our ladies in green and a fan-fucking-tastic team from Louisville- DCRG. It was wrenching! On the one hand you got your total helplessness, there is no assisting from the sidelines. Then on the other hand- it’s so easy to learn from there. But fuck that blah blah learning shit- I want to play!

So, this is our plan to get off the sidelines, and stay off the sidelines. Ready! OK!

Firstly, take care of yourself and all your movable parts. You play a fucking contact sport so take your vitamins. Do good things; drink water, get in shape and stay in shape, fix your injuries, get big and strong. RAWR!

Secondly, this is a team sport so be a team player. Push yourself to be the best, most reliable player you can be. Just like you hope somebody is holding the line because you’re going out to get the jammer, they are looking to you to bust ass to the front of the pack or meet them with a wall that works. Be good lookin’ out an shit.

And third of all, don’t give up. Don’t give up. No matter what happens, if you give up you most def are not going to be helpful. Did I mention it’s bad to give up? I may have written about that before but just in case, don’t ever give up!

Now I’m off to push over little kids on their bikes and use bad language.

“I want to play roller derby.” I couldn’t believe I’d said it out loud.  I wanted to take it back, go back to the girl I was before I wanted anything hard.  But it was the truth and when I realized how much work it would take to get me from zero to derby girl, I was scared as all hell. 

I quit soccer, softball, cheerleading, band camp, college, and more jobs than you can shake a stick at.  I quit because I thought I couldn’t, because I wasn’t strong, wasn’t fast enough, and didn’t have enough coordination, endurance, patience or time.  I was ready to quit before I started.   Then something very important happened. 

Someone said, “You can’t” So I got skates and pads and joined a team.

Someone said, “You’ll never…” And with a rebel gleam in my eyes, I tried.

Someone said, “You aren’t…” So I pushed myself harder than ever before.

Then after more than a year of trying, someone said, “You did it!” And I looked back at all my hard work, all the days I could have given up, and I couldn’t believe my ears when I said, “I did it.  I play roller derby!” 

Every derby girl has one thing in common- she doesn’t give up, she can’t.  Learning to play the game is hard, training is hard, practicing three times a week is hard, staying fit is hard, realizing you aren’t even halfway there is hard, making the roster is hard, controlling your pre-bout nerves is hard…but quitting, that’s easy. 

For every new skater that joins our team there are at least ten more who say they want to play, but never made it to a practice. The truth is they can’t do it, because no matter how much they want it they aren’t willing to put in the time and effort it takes to get there.  When you cross that threshold, when you commit yourself to training, when you show up, you’ve already separated yourself from those who can’t.  

Today’s lesson: Yes, you can.  In fact, you are the only one who can.  No one else can make you into a derby girl.  The only time you fail in derby is when you give up.  So, don’t stop moving your feet, practicing, challenging yourself, and never stop believing that you can be anything you want.

That's it.  That's the whole blog.  - Move when I move.  I'm the blocker on the other team.  I'm the one causing trouble for your jammer. I'm the one that knocked you on your ass last jam.  I'm making you nervous.  I'm the other teams jammer, the one that's gotten through every last time she's jammed.  I'm too fast for you to chase.  So get over here in front of me and move when I move.

From The Never Ending Story:
Atreyu and Artax had searched the Silver Mountains, the Desert of Shattered Hopes, and the Crystal Towers without success. And so, there was only one chance left. To find Morla, the ancient one, the wisest being in Fantasia whos home was the Shell Mountain somewhere in the deadly Swamps of Sadness. Everyone knew that whoever let the sadness overtake him would sink into the swamp.


The day of tryouts I was sick. Not with the flu, worse. I was physically ill at the idea of the tryout. I would be on display; fully vulnerable to the judging eyes of my peers. I pulled into the parking lot of the rink and tried to rinse out the taste of vomit from my mouth with some water. I can do this, I thought. This is like any other practice, I thought. I took another gulp. I should go back home and crawl under the covers and forget about tryouts for another few months, I thought.

I went inside, still intent on going home but locked in the death grip of this thought: ‘If I go home now, I go home a coward.’ I had to go inside and face my fears. I had to put my shaking legs and turning stomach aside and focus. So, I put on my skates and warmed up.

The best advice I ever got was, “Never give up. The moment just after you give up could have made all the difference.”

I didn’t make the team that day, but I never gave up. In derby, and life, you will take a beating, metaphorically and otherwise. But don’t get loaded down with despair. You’ll need all the strength you can for the after party.

My grandpa won his house in a poker game. His dad, and his dad's dad played poker. And when my dad was 15 he was already collecting slot cars for the neighborhood kids' poker game debts to him. As a child I sat on his lap, careful not to tell his hand. I fell asleep to the low rumbling sounds of men talking and playing poker in the kitchen.

I got lucky and got the kind of dad that wants to stuff all the wisdom he can into my big girl brain. He taught me an awful lot about people, math, and story telling- all through poker.

In poker the game starts before you ever sit down to a table. In derby, you can get ahead before any whistles are blown. So, here for your pleasure are some chips off the old block. In Derby I like to call it “Strategery.”


Poker:
1. Protect your hand. Make sure no one sees your cards, or reads them off your glasses, or looks over your shoulder, or nothing else!
Derby Translation:
Protect your plans and be stealthy. No giving hints and no letting on that you’re scared or nervous! I like to just confuse people, but being kinda blank works just fine.

Poker:
2. Be aware. Look and listen to the reactions players have to one another, to their cards, to their seat, to their drinks, and to you.
Derby Translation:
Check out the players around you. Be the expert when you get onto the floor. Size up the competition. Are you getting the shifty eye from a pivot? Think she’s got a plan, is she tired, what has she been up to the last few jams?

Poker:
3. This is your game, make them play.
Derby Translation:
Once the whistle blows, you start. Don’t wait on another player to push you into reacting. Make them react to you. Take control.

Poker:
4. Be prepared to be flexible. This is a game, with lots of variables, and lots of controls.
Derby Translation:
If the plan you have isn’t working- ditch it. The ability to constantly re-evaluate your game plan is key. Plus, changing it up makes the other team work harder pin you down to a specific strategy.

My final advice is to work together, work together, work together! Your best resources are the four women on your team. Together you can make a killer hand. Make walls, make plans, make points.

Lesson Five: Change your Mind,
I hit the ground yelling, marrow seeping from my bones into my leg -spreading dread and adrenaline. In slow-mo-shin my ankle flipped, it flopped, it gave up and lay there in my boot, a dead fish in a sea of sound. The sounds said, "Oh my ohmyohmyohmy" and "oh no ohnononono" and mostly, "FUCK FUCK FUckfuckfuckfuck!"
As though we had written the scenario carefuly and read then from the practiced script, we played out the night with precision. "The Medic", played by Lass Gasp gave direction, exported the broken bones to the bone fixery, soothed nerves, and used her insider connections to insure the very best of care. The entire cast gave stellar performance after stellar performance. The stars were out.
When I woke up a few days later in a nest of pillows and blankets, at home, I had only enough voice to say, "Thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou" and fall gently back to deep slumber. It was then that they pulled together, charted and measured my exact needs, and while I slept they made it all ok. "My League Derby Loves me" I thought. And, "I derby love them too."
So of course, when I finally could sit, I sat up. When I finally could hop, I hopped, when I could stretch at last, I did. The day came that I could get outside and I smiled and soaked in the sun. I thought, "If i can go outside, surely I can go to the corner" and I could. I thought, "If I can get all the way to the corner, I can go to practice" and I did. I thought "If I'm at practice, I can stretch, I can do crunches," and I did. I can, I can, I can...I can do all things through derby.
For me, my league gave their time, their groceries, their compassion. For them, I will get better. I will be better than ever before.
18 days ago I broke my leg,
This week I get to swim,
in 20 more days I will walk,
and by derby, I will skate again.
And this brings me to my lesson for you, from me.
My advice is this; stay positive.
Say "I can", "I'm not tired", "I can do it","I can do it again"
Smile when your muscles hurt. Laugh when your tired.
Don't let yourself down and don't let your team down.
Don't waste time saying, "I can't"...not when you have every reason to believe today is the day that you can.

You and I are mild mannered. We're not the type that starts fights, right? We are smart enough to know that physical violence is uncalled for. We are civil women of character.
That's all very true. But jesus help those who are against us.
Not so long ago, in a place far far away, two evil women "started shit" with a member of my beloved Circle City Socialites. The incident quickly escalated until five members of our team (including me) were forced to "throw down on them bitches."
Of course, the poor evil doers never had a chance and the whole thing lasted only a few minutes. But in those few minutes, we learned something invaluable about the women we are.
I woke up feeling, different, changed, ... I woke up in a bathtub actually. But the change was not from the tub-sleeping. My confidence grew exponentially during the night. I not only feel secure in the fact that I can handle myself in most any situation; I now see that there are 25 other girls, just as bad ass, and they will pin a girl to a cop car if you try to "start somethin."
I woke up with a whole new respect for my teammates. They are some savage bitches. At the practices since then I've become less concerned with politeness. I've stricken the words "I'm sorry!" from my vocabulary during scrimmages. The reason is not because I'm now a jerk, no no no no, silly. It's that I know they can handle me. They sharpen themselves against me, and I sharpen myself against them. And If that means I get knocked down alot, welp, that's why i've invested in ice packs and ibuprofen.
So my advice today is this:
Beat others as you would like to be Beated.
Challenge yourself. Challenge your team.
And occasionaly, you should sleep in a tub. It's good for your constitution.

Soooo, We're on the right track. We're not fearless, but getting closer, and we're now ready to start all over. ...mmm yep allll over.
And the very best way to start again is with a song! Yes, it is!

So the fear I've got is breaking something, or getting hurt bad enough to keep me from ambulating. That would kind of piss me off. And it's reasonable to assume a small percentage of our team will be injured to this degree. And it's reasonable to assume you're more able to stay upright when you're calm and collected, versus scared out of your gord. That's right, I said gord. I'll say it again too.

So to kill this fear, really dead, you've got to think like a Bunnie. And what do bunnies do? THEY HOP!!... ok and they mate, but for now i'm only talking about the hopping part.
I didn' hop on skates for a long ass time. Not that I couldn't. In fact now I realize I have always been capable, just not willing. I did not want to hop. If I did, something bad would happen. I saw lots of ladies landing on tailbones when they jumped, and i'm just too proud to sit on a donut pillow.
But then I saw Ace of NRG in a bout. There was a nastymess of falling Roller Girls on the last turn and Ace is jamming through it, stepping over, jumping over, turning, teetering and solidly jetting through the pack- which is mostly on the floor by the time she's through.
A- She's got her baby skates bronzed.
But B.. She still should have fallen. I saw her nearly bite it a few times but she never touched the ground... like an angel from heaven.
So if there is one trick I want to know it's the "Staying Up" thing.
And here's how you get it:
Get outdoor wheels and put them on your skates.
Take yourself someplace nice, someplace where the cement is pretty smooth and relatively flat. I suggest The Monon Trail, The Canal Walk, and random new parking lots.
Now, get out and put your pads on, all of them, and your mouthguard, tailguard, and maybe smoke a cigarette first too- Just in case.
Take a look at the cement you used to think was so smooth. It's not smooth at all is it? See all that debris?! It's really terrifying isn't it? If you were inside you would say, "No Way , Jose!" But you are not inside and you don't have your inside wheels on anymore.
Give yourself a goal and slowly, you will tumble towards it. When I first skated outside I hated it. I was "Not putting up with this!" But I came to quickly realize that outside you have very limited choices. You either move your feet, or fall on your ass.
So move your feet! There is very little "cruising" outside so you have to adapt. You will learn that given the choice of falling vs staying up, your instincts begin to choose for you.
Once you get away from your car, you really have no choice but to learn. I suppose your other choice is to sit by and watch sweaty men in spandex jostle by you, and that is no way for a roller girl, especially a Socialite, to spend a lovely afternoon.
If you do this, your first time back inside will feel like heaven, your reflexes will be closer to ninja than ever, and you will have that fear in your super action hero death grip....bwa ha ha ha
So, if you see a girl flailing her arms and screaming down the monon... call the police haven'tyou heard of all the recent crime over there??

Let’s get started! The first thing we have to do is find our fears, tie them up, and murder them with a huge butcher knife.. or pool noodle actually.

So, Go to the dollar store and get yourself a pool noodle. Take that noodle home. Tell your dog you are "Not playing around!" Then drop it on the floor between you and your TV because the Simpsons are on and you've got some fear to kill.
To Explain; I asked for some advice about turn stops and jumping from the ref for our league- Baron VonSplatterday (B-Splat). He explained the movement. I stood blank and obviously un-helped by the explanation.
He explained a second time adding, “Well, you have jumped and turned around before haven't you?"

But no, I've never, or at least not in a long time. So he told me to do it, right then, without skates on. I was a little embarrassed. ‘What if I can’t jump and turn around at all?’ I thought. The same fear that holds my trembling skates to the floor glued my rubber soled shoes to the cement. I was amazed to be stuck with the same feeling I've had so many times on skates. After a few dry runs I nervously jumped up and twirled to face the other direction. -and I did it! TaDaa!

After realizing I had all this time been afraid to jump (period), I decided I had to get more comfortable with my body in motion, all kinds of motion.
My advice:
Stand about a foot from your noodle and jump over it, forward. Now try it backwards. Do you feel silly? Good, good. Keep it up! The point is that you begin to get the feel for your body while it's in motion. And since you're doing this in your "safe place" (for me it's the Simpson’s, for you maybe it's What Not to Wear), you are learning to move your body without fear.
More things to do: Jump and twist and twirl! Land on your toes! Land on one foot! Land on the dog! .. no no don't land on the dog. The next time you practice you will be amazed at how much more comfortable you are doing the tricks you used to agonize over. Keep practicing! You've got Fear on the run!