I posted the following to a new blog at Derby Nation.com No, I am NOT quitting here, I just want to write there too. But this one was good, or at least better than anything I have spit out in awhile. So I thought I would share it with you too. And pictures of my ass.
Last weekend a group of my Sisters and I drove over the hill to San Francisco to skate on the Bay Bombers Banked track.
Since I had never skated on a banked track and we aspire to be able to set up Rollerbych's track and bout on it, I was especially excited to get there.
It was hard. Tiring. Frustrating when you fall and slide right down into the infield when you know that you should be able to pop right back up. But the instruction we received from Dave was invaluable and while the Bay Bombers' derby is a little different than ours, they were there for the same reason we all do it. The love of the skate, the sport, the show.
It was funny how Dave insisted that we introduce ourselves by our real name. He didn't seem to want to call us Crazy J Danger, Flash Crash, D Rail Her. He was surprised to learn my name isn't really Grace. And the quiet comments about our fishnets were amusing. The louder comments about wearing more clothes when our asses would squeal across the masonite made me smile. Modern Derby Girls are proud of every bruise, every speckled rink rash. I showed my boss pictures of my wounds from that day. Only for Derby would my supervisor know what kind of underwear I wear.
Watching them that night, I knew I don't really want to be the same kind f derby they are. I want my game to be unpredictable, I want to hit with everything I have.
And, I want to still be doing it in my 50's and 60's because if there is anything I learned on Saturday, it's that you are never too old for this sport. And the railing hurts.