Thursday, September 29, 2011

Derby Don'ts

A couple of things I picked up during practice last night...

Don't forget to eat for the most of the day and then go to derby practice.  Especially on a night when you are doing an endless jammer drill followed by nearly an hour and a half of scrimmaging.  A breakfast bar and sushi simply will not suffice.  A calorie deficit for the day means your legs will be in pain before you even get to warm-ups.  And the burn does not go away for the entire practice.  You may feel like you are going to die right there on the track, and then, people will just skate around your cold, dead body.  And you may get a major for tripping if they fall over your corpse.  Hard to get to the penalty box when you are dead.   

Don't take it personally when another girl pushes you out of bounds and then uses excessive force to knock you to the ground when you are already off the track (where you bruise your backside for the nine hundredth time).  You should see the bruise.  This baby is quite a derby injury trophy, and I would totally post pictures if they didn't involve crack.  Crack is whack.  I still wonder what the refs were doing when this was happening and why she did not get a penalty.  A major penalty.  And I still think it was unnecessary roughness which I am not a fan of.  Hold girls off, but don't kill them.  And I may or may not have yelled all the way back to my bench about the whole incident being a problem.  Not that I was bitter or anything.

Don't look away when the bench manager is handing out helmet panties.  It's the same dynamic as avoiding eye contact with the teacher when you don't know the answer.  If you look away, inevitably, you will be handed the panty.  And then you will have to pivot when you completely suck at being the pivot. And then you will get the ever-loving snot unexpectedly knocked out of you by John Wayne Stacy.  When she hit me, I heard something crack.  I still haven't figured out what it was, but, needless to say, EVERYTHING hurts today.  E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.  Well, everything except my feet.  My feet were unscathed.

In the same vein, do not let your captain see you try to pass the star panty (worn by the jammer) off to someone else on your team.  She *might* decide that she needs to keep a closer eye on you, and who wants that, right? And then she might tell you that you are not going to get out of jamming. Even if you tell her that you have no legs that night.  However, when you jam miserably after telling her that you have no legs that night, she will let you off the hook and not ask you to jam anymore.  It's kinda like when you break a dish while doing the dishes, and your mom tells you she will finish up for you.

Don't session skate.  This means you need to remember to skate low and in your derby posture.  I think I may have been "session skating" last night.  I spent an awful lot of time on my butt.  Either that or the other team could tell I was exhausted and not having my best night and decided to pick on me.  Or maybe a little bit of both.

Don't talk to a ref about what your penalty was in the middle of a jam.  I can call victory here because this one wasn't me.  However, it was a good reminder of what I should not do. 

Don't skate past your own penalty box and get in the box for the other team.  Again, not me, but a good reminder.  This lengthens the amount of time your team has to skate without you. 

When you are jamming do not grab on to your teammate without yelling out to her who you are.  She will not skate you through the pack like you want her to if you don't communicate with her.  But, because she is Rosie and has obvious derby super powers, I think she should be able to read my mind.  :)   Rosie Rocks!

Do not threaten a derby wife relationship.  Last night I got a burning spank to my already bruised backside for helping out someone else's derby wife. The skater I was helping was injured, and I was taking off her skates and socks so that she could avoid being in further pain. I got called a home wrecker, and my butt really smarted. For quite a few minutes. And then the derby wife apologized for besmirching my name. I haven't talked about "derby wives" on here yet, but there is such a thing.  Some of them even have derby weddings.  It sounds strange and even a little salacious, but really a derby wife is the girl who always has your back even when you are wrong.  Really, it's basically a derby BFF.  At this point in my derby life, I have decided to not seek out a derby wife.  I may just be a perpetual derby bachelorette.  I'm not sure I'm cut out for derby marriage.  I may just play the field.  Maybe I'm just a big derby flirt and not willing to put all my eggs in one derby girl's basket.  And maybe I just haven't met the "one" yet.  Mr. Incredible is getting very uncomfortable reading this if he is reading it, so I will stop talking about this derby peculiarity now. 

Don't let a bad practice hold you back.  In two weeks when you have a fantastic practice, no one will remember that you skated like Bambi last night unless you remind them.  

Don't remind them! 

Friday, September 23, 2011

That's What HE said...

Part of a conversation I overheard....

Male: "I have a raging headache, but I'll just take a Vagisil and I'll be fine."

Nearly peed my pants.

And be jealous, very jealous... tomorrow night I am going to be rocking the night away to the tunes of Journey, Foreigner, and Night Ranger.  My black eyeliner and crimping iron are all set....

I'll be sure to let you know all about the 80's fun.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

That's How the Cookie Crumbles

If you will recall, in this post from May I was a little bleary, teary-eyed and all over the end of preschool and the end of the baby years in my household.

Well, I've adjusted rather famously after a trying summer with my adorable son.  However, last week Mr. Incredible and I went shopping at Grapevine Mills during the middle of the school day.  And I couldn't remember the last time I had been there without my little Bonus.  Without my shopping buddy (who admittedly drives me straight to crazy in malls). 

Mr. Incredible and I powered through about ten stores looking for a replacement for his TWENTY PLUS year old Rainbow sandals (twenty years... that's some quality... and they are still wearable).  It was nice to be able to move in and out of the stores quickly.   I was able to look at anything I wanted to for as long as I wanted to. 

After shopping for a couple of hours, Mr. Incredible and I stopped by Mrs. Field's for some chocolate milk and cookies.  While it was nice to have a day to spend with my husband,  I couldn't help but miss my little buddy and wish he was there to share my chocolate milk and cookies for just one brief second.  Chocolate milk and cookies just cry out for sweet, sweaty, little boys...

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Are you bout it? I'm bout it, bout it.

Well, our first bout was A. Ma. Zing.  I played for the Fighting Unicorns, and we won!  Actually, we creamed them.  It would have been fantastic even if they had won, and those Battling Mermaids played a super game, too.  We just got lucky.

I took a few hard hits, fell a few times, gave a couple hits, made some nice contact, and SCORED A FEW POINTS!!!!  Yeah, we were so far ahead that I actually got to jam.  Our bench manger and coach wanted us to cycle through the positions we don't normally play.   Anyway, I jammed, and after I called it off and skated back to the bench, my bench manager said, "Who knew you could jam?"  Actually, I guess no one knew.  I jammed aqainst a player I really admire, Texsin Grrl, and she hit me right off the line.  But, hey, at least I was expecting it since her coach yelled out to her, "Texsin, hit her right off the line."  I leaned into the hit and chased her into the pack.  She fell.  I got through, skated back around, got through again,  made Lead Jammer, scored some points, and after I finally heard my coach and bench manager yelling at me to call off the jam,  I tapped my hips and called it off. 

To sum up the evening, I think the word of the bout was EXHILARATING.

I have worked hard since February, and it paid off.  This night was more fun and more rewarding than I could have hoped for.  Four of my most special friends came to watch and really made the experience extra-wonderful as I could see their smiling, cheering faces each time I got up to the line.  Thanks for coming, NOGs!   I could go on and on, but you know you really just want to see the pictures...

Happy at halftime

Jam on it... Or something like that... I think this was my initial pass, but who knows really.  It's all a blur thanks to the adrenaline.

I got your block right here.

The fabulous Fighting Unicorns

Me, getting hit right off the line.  I still got Lead Jammer though.

See ya at Lone Star on October 30

Friday, September 2, 2011

Have We Met?

I told you all about my embarrassing visit to the community pool.  If you didn't catch the Naked Discipline post in June because you were on vacation... read it lest the rest of this make no sense.

Back in June I thought the pool monitor was just a college kid and didn't sweat too much over the fact that some college kid had seen my freshly waxed full frontal (and don't forget the backal).  I mean, at least everything had been all pretty and shiny if it had to be revealed to strangers in BROAD DAYLIGHT.  I only had to awkwardly sign in and avoid eye contact with him for the next couple of months, right?  Plus, I could wear a different bathing suit and huge sunglasses when I went to that pool, so that he wouldn't be reminded of my nude streak (never brought the polka dots back to that pool...).  I could also avoid that pool and visit the other two pools in my community instead (which I did when possible).  

I figured he would roll off the community payroll during September, go back to school, and we would never have to meet again.  Isn't that the perfect ending?

I could not have been more wrong.

He is a college student, and he is back to classes. 

However, he is a also a DAD who has kids at the same school as my kids.  And I have run into him almost daily these first nine days of school.

And everytime I see him, I can see that he is trying to figure out how he knows me.  Let's hope he never figures out the connection.  But just to make sure, I have PURGED my closet of all things in black and white polka dots. 

I wouldn't want to do anything to jog his memory. 


Thursday, September 1, 2011

I Pick Scabs

Gee, that post title sounds extra disgusting...

My new knee protection came in yesterday, and I got to try it out at our little Fighting Unicorns team practice last night.

The Smith Scabs are a bit bulkier than the Triple 8 pros, but they are also like landing on leopard print pillows when I fall (which I do ALL the time).  I have added gaskets to my protective gear to help my knee pads stay in place.  The gaskets also add an additional layer of padded protection around the knee cap.  Protection is good, and I can already tell that the gaskets are a good addition.

When I first put them on, I was concerned that I would have to adjust my skating and crossovers because they cover more of my leg than the Triple 8's, and they do stick out further from my legs.  However, I had pretty much forgotten about them by the end of the hour. 

Aren't they purdy?
I will tell you that the sizing on the Scabs is crazy.  I had a small in the Triple 8's.  I needed a L/XL in the Scabs.  They only come in S/M and L/XL.  I think Smith thinks we all have toothpick legs like the skater boys I grew up around.  However, my legs have never resembled a toothpick.  If you can, try a friend's before you order.