I've become a much better derby skater this season. To be fair, that wasn't hard to do. When some friends watched me in my first bout in March, they observed that I'd probably be more effective if I spent more time not staring at my feet. I'm pretty sure I spent most of that bout trying to not get hit, rather than trying to be effective... but things have gotten better. When we went to Lake Charles to pay Lafitte's Ladies in October, yes, we lost- but I was still an effective member of my team, I helped hold back the other girls, and while I didn't actually send anyone flying through a wall like my hero Vixen did- I gave as good as I got. It's been a progression. In the past few weeks, one of my favorite jammers has told me that when we scrimmage, I'm on her list of blockers to avoid because I'm getting very effective at taking her down. I'm not scared to hit the scary ones. I notice that the really awesome blockers are trying to take me out and they sometimes fail. It feels great.
So, of course, I've really been looking forward to the bout next weekend. I want to help my team win, for a LOT of reasons. First up- they've beat us twice. Once was this season, on their turf. Due to timing, a lot of us couldn't go, and our team skated short with 10 on the roster. Those 10 lost by 2 points. Second up- they're a
good team. Winning against them would be a great victory for my own team, and we don't have the greatest track record as we're going into the closer for our first full season. And well... that's the league that has given a home to my arch-nemisis, a person who I have major issues with that have absolutely nothing to do with derby. Acknowledging this may make me a bad person- but there you go. I don't like her, and thus, I'd like to have something to do with one of her league's teams going down. I never said I was a nice person all the time.
Thursday night at practice, I went down and, for the first time that I can recall in my derby career thus far, all action stopped, everyone took a knee, and I was tended to by the nurse and chiropractor who make up our on-skates Emergency Response team. I tried to get myself scooted off the track as quickly as possible - it wasn't quick enough for my tastes- and I made sure that I said out loud LOTS of times that the ONLY reason I was going to the ER was because I knew I couldn't miss work tomorrow and, you know, it's "just in case." Because I'm such a responsible person, and really, I'm sure it's not that bad. I even turned down Jiz-zam's repeated offers to drive me to said ER, because, you know, it's not all that bad. After I got my diagnosis of "not broken, but it could need more attention- if it still has serious issues in a week, go see an ortho" I wasn't too worried. See? Not that bad! And on Friday night when I sewed myself a sling out of sock-monkey fabric, I knew that I must really be ok because after all, who could operate a sewing machine if they were injured and not just a little bit banged up? It's not that bad. I'd wear my sling for a day or two, being good and resting it like I'm supposed to for Saturday, maybe even Sunday, and then I'd be fine on Monday before practice and the sling could live in my skate bag for the next person to get a boo-boo at practice. Even if the sock monkeys are upside down if it's worn on the right arm, it's really cute... it'll make somebody feel better. I surely don't need it! Hurt doesn't mean injured. I'm fine.
Today was a good day. I wore my sling but I had more mobility. Lots of motions don't hurt to execute... but when the act of scooping washing powder out of a box with the hand attached to my injured shoulder made me almost cry, I texted the coach and asked her to go ahead and put in the alternate. It may not be "that bad" but what are the odds that it will be so healed that in 6 days, I can go full-tilt and be a 100% player for my team? Slim. What are the odds that I'd just hurt it again, and this time with 300 or more witnesses to my stupidity for pushing it? Too high. And well, my dude is flying in for this one, and he's going to be Santa! While I love it when he's here to watch me skate, the idea of having Santa as my date to the ER while I'm sweaty and wearing too much make-up just curdles my blood a bit (no matter that it would indeed make a great story. It would).
I'm heartbroken that I don't get to close the season out on the track with the team I've worked so hard to become a useful member of. Seriously- this shit makes me cry. I know I can be useful, but being useful trackside or NSOing or whatever is not the same, and it sucks. Our next bout isn't til March, which in Derby-time seems like a decade. This is not a decision that makes me feel warm and fuzzy AT ALL. The alternate deserves to skate, for sure- but so do I. I do not
want to rock my sock-monkey sling and drink a beer in shoes.
I do not want to be outside of that smelly-ass locker room at halftime. I do not want to put on a cheerful face and be all stoic like the other injured girls who have come before me. Fuck that! I. Want. To. Skate. This is one of those times where nobody should doubt that I came by my derby name honestly... Angst Muffin, indeed.
Alas, Roller Derby is a grownup sport with grownup decisions and I guess that there's some obligation to act like a fuckin' grownup, so here we go. Starting tomorrow, I'm not going to pout- much. I'm not going to cry about my poor little shoulder injury when Jiz-zam has been out most of the season with two broken collarbones (well, the same one twice), and Shootzie can't skate til she gets a job with insurance, and Fuds and Pawn Brokeher can't skate til they have their babies. I'm going to spend my Sunday night getting it out of my system and then I'm going to support my team and do something useful with a cheesy ass smile on my face, sock monkeys, and a beer in my hand.
I'm so going to win the after party.
