Let's start this with a little conversation from Saturday's dinner....
Me: "My armpits are killing me."
RNR: "You don't hear that everyday."
My armpits are killing me. So are my pecs (like I have pecs....), my triceps, my quads, my glutes, and all the muscles I don't know the names of in my back. Push ups with Annie get me everytime.
Practicing for three and a half hours on Saturday nearly crippled me. I have hobbled around ever since.
So, derby peeps, painful pits and all, I'm back to dreaming the derby dream.
Last Wednesday's night scrimmage was interesting. It was the first time I skated for a solid scrimmage hour with girls from the new Muertas line up. We had some nice successes and a few miserable failures, but all in all, I thought it wasn't too shabby for girls who, for the most part, had never skated together. Coach Buttermaker may disagree with that, but I haven't asked him.
I spent a great deal of time up close and personal with the floor (which seems to be a major trend with me right now), but I was particularly proud of two hits that evening. The first hit was me hitting Lucky while he jammed. It was not a particularly hard hit, and it did not slow him down or move him or anything. I did make contact with him though, and that is a victory for me.
The other hit... This is the one where I can now retire from derby feeling satisfied (I'm not retiring, so don't go all kuh-razy viral on me. I don't want to show up for practice on Wednesday to find my spot on the roster has been filled.).
Matomic, Luke "Shortbus" Powell, and a couple of other guys (who have completely escaped my memory at the moment) were in a tight wall, and I knew my jammer needed some help to get to get through there. I was hanging out in the back (as I am wont to do) and had enough space to get some speed into the hit. I basically barrelled into Luke with everything I had. And it surprised him. And moved him a little. And he said, "Whoa!"
I don't know if I helped my jammer or not. I have no idea what happened next. I was just elated that I had made Luke say, "Whoa!".
When the jam was over, Luke told me "Good job!". This is why I can now retire (don't start rumors, people....) happily. I don't think I'm able to capture the ecstasy of this moment properly. Oh well.
So, here is where the derbyville fantasy comes in.
When I returned home, Miss Noteworthy asked me about practice, and I related the me-hitting-Luke story. As Miss Noteworthy has an active imagination like her mother, she added on to the story for me.
Her fantasy ending goes like this:
"And then Matomic fell to the floor and cried. Everyone was shocked, the crowd was quiet, and no one was quite sure what to do with his sobbing mass on the floor, so the confused refs called off the jam."
Yay! Don't you like her dream for me? Ah... I'm just going to go bask in that fantasyworld victory for a bit. Don't bother me.