On Not Making The Team

This month marks my first year anniversary since joining derby.
 
I’ve had a relatively smooth ride as a roller girl. Since I’d skated as a child, I didn’t have to climb that mountain. I was bumped up to intermediate practice without having to formally take the basic skills test and I’ve made every roster that I’ve been eligible for.

Things have come easily to me, and many times I’ve wondered how well I’d deal with bumps in the road.

When I found out I hadn’t made the team for Tattoo Freeze, I went through three phases.

First I felt depressed.

“I suck, I should just quit roller derby,” I thought to myself. About three milliseconds after that thought had been voiced, the rational side of my mind was laughing at me. “Yeah, right. You wouldn’t last a week.”

Fair enough. That was self-pity out of the way.

Next came anxiety. Everyone knew I'd been hoping to get on the team. Were they feeling sorry for me? Were they relieved? Was that why they were being so nice to me? Were they watching everything I did and analysing it to see if I was bitter? I forced a smile onto my face. It probably looked like a grimace.

After about five minutes of that, I remembered that other people’s lives do not, in fact, revolve around me, and my not making the team was a tiny blip on their radar. They  probably gave it half a second’s thought, if they actually noticed at all.

And so anxiety too was set aside.

That allowed rational thought to be heard. Once the emotional cloud had cleared, I came to to a realisation.

Here’s the thing: making the team does not prove my worth as a skater. Sure, only good skaters make the team, but not making the team doesn’t make me a bad skater. It’s not a test where if I work really hard I’ll definitely pass. Whether or not I get on the team is dependent on a lot of variables, many of which I have absolutely no control over.

A roller derby team needs different kinds of players. It needs a certain ratio of blockers to jammers and of hard hitters to dodgers. Some players are able to pull off a particular tactic flawlessly, some players work better together than others.

Sometimes my particular skills aren’t going to be what the team needs, and that’s okay.

In the end, I don’t want to just ‘make the team’. I want a skater that makes the team better.

So here are my tips if you don’t make the cut-off: indulge your bad mood for a little while. Wallow in your own self pity. Then get over it. Stay clear-headed and try to improve.

And if that doesn’t work? You know what to do.

Daphne Does Tattoo Freeze

What do you get when you mix up the top UK derby teams, tattoos, camper vans and ice-sculpting? A typical rollergirl outing!

I've been hearing about Tattoo Freeze for a while. It's a convention that brings together aspects of a lifestyle that includes tattoos, leather and motorbikes. When I hear about events like this, they get sorted into 'not for Daphne' category and I switch off, so it took me a long time to realise that roller derby was actually involved. 

At 8AM on Sunday, I shuffled into the car with Thunderkat, Raging Bulmer and Just Awesome, and off to Telford we went! I hadn't exactly been looking forward to the show, unable to imagine it would appeal to me or that I would fit in any way, shape or form. I thought about claiming I was covered in tattoos under my clothes and made of ice, but I realised the two were not complementary.

The tournament was held in a huge hall with ice sculpting at one end, a stage where live bands played, a BMX ramp and then the track and stands set up for the roller derby. It was very loud and busy, plenty of people were wearing onsies and I was a bit upset that I hadn't realised onsies are now acceptable outerwear, since I have quite a fetching cat one myself that the world needs to see.

There were eight games in total, each lasting only 30 minutes, with a maximum of two time outs and a stricter penalty system: only four minutes in the box was grounds for ejection, rather than the typical seven. So, er, maybe that explains why five Blitz Dames skaters managed to foul out... We're not sloppy, we're spirited!

Shortly after we arrived, I found out what I had been starting to suspect, which was that I hadn't made the team and wouldn't be skating in the tournament. I was understandably glum, but I'm fairly realistic about my own abilities and I wouldn't have wanted to let down the team. More on that in a later post.

So, situating myself on merch, I discovered that by standing on the chair and ignoring people trying to buy t-shirts, I got a pretty good view of the games. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed watching teams I barely knew. I'm fond of the Dollies and of course there are the World Cup favourites, but most of the teams were unfamiliar. I walked past Jack Attack twice and resisted the urge to touch her and try and absorb some of her derby prowess. Self control, thy name is Daphne.

While watching the derby I jumped on the chair – quite dangerously – and screamed my head off. So much so that I had a horribly sore throat by the second bout and had to flail to convey my excitement, lest I lose my voice.

Watching the Blitz Dames game was awful. I was far too emotionally involved and probably a fried Mars bar away from a heart attack. I was alternatively proud of my teammates, horrified by the penalties and then heart broken as the point gap started to grow.

Aside from my emotional meltdown, watching the derby was fun. I came away with a slightly inappropriate derby crush on Cherry Fury whose jam reffing I could watch all day. I'm so close to sending her an embarrassing confession of love on FB but I will resist.

The day had a few surprises for me which completely made up for not being able to skate. I met up with the photographer, China Blade, who called me a 'top banana'. Anonymous Russel became significantly less anonymous - I might start referring to him as just 'Russel' - and I even was introduced to muslim lady interested in roller derby! That's right, there were two girls wearing headscarves at that tattoo convention. No one was more surprised than me. I thought I was looking in a mirror.

I apparently also got a shoutout on the PA by Twisted Miister but I was oblivious as usual. Thanks for that, dude. Next time, say the url, okay?

All in all, weirdly incredible day! I could never have imagined I would end up in a place like that, far less that I would enjoy it!

See you all there next year!

Lies About Running

I've been feeling guilty about not doing any endurance training so I decided to join my brother in a casual run in the park the other day.

I thought to myself, I do roller derby three times a week, I must be fairly healthy. People on TV are always running and they seem okay.

It seemed like a good idea.

I now realise that everything I thought I knew about running was a lie.

1. Running is simple!

Running is not simple. Though it requires no equpiment, it does need forethought and planning. When I went running, I woke up late because instead of waking me up my brother had just come into my room and said 'boggle boggle boggle' over and over again. My brain, unable to make anything out of this, went back to sleep. When I did wake up, I only had time to grab breakfast and dress before going out, insuring that within about eight seconds of running I was nauseous had a cramp.

2. Running is fun with a running buddy!

The person you are running with quickly comes to symbolise everything you hate in the world. People say it's safer to run in pairs but it is not because the most dangerous thing when running is your pride. I mean yeah, maybe shooting pains in your left arm is a sign of an incoming heart attack, but you don't want to look bad in front of your friend, do you? You don't want to be the unhealthy, lazy one, so you have to keep running until your entire body goes numb or that incoming heart attack resolves itself into a full blown one.

3. Run outside and admire the beautiful scenery!

It's really hard to admire scenery of any kind when oxygen deprivation is causing your vision to tunnel, your internal organs have mutinied and you're trying very hard not to vomit. Any energy for thinking is devoted to avoiding mud and stuff you really hope was mud because if not, you're going to need a new pair of trainers.

4. Run in the park and see fellow runners and nature lovers!

People on TV always seem to be running in some idyllic park where they smile and wave at everyone they meet. The only people in the park I saw were dog walkers and my route was determined by how best to avoid them, because in parks people take their dogs off the leash. If you do run into a dog, you stand their, thinking that okay the dog doesn't look particularly murderous, but it is half the size of me. While you wonder which of your bones the dog will most like, the owner gives you an apologetic smile and says things like 'no Toby, you're not a runner! Come back here, silly Toby," which are as ineffective as they are stupid.

5. Running makes you feel good!

I cannot entirely refute this. Under the pain and nausea I might have been feeling good, but it's difficult to say.