Rolling with the Rollergirls

The Bleeding Heartland Rollergirls sure have interesting socks. The colors and textures blur the skaters as they purr by in a circle, gaining speed. Orange and red stripes, black with red hearts, white with two small green stripes grazing the top, brown stripes, white socks with the cookie monster from Sesame Street, and shiny golden tights roll by as the women gain speed. Some tights have recent holes in them – battle wounds signifying the rough nature of the sport. \nThese colorful leggings aren’t simply decorative – they’re protective. One bare-skinned skid could leave a gash that takes ages to heal. And the thin nature of the tights helps prevent against nasty blisters. Skaters need to be choosy though. \n“I have five different kinds of ankle socks, and I will only wear two to skate in,” said Molly McFracture.\nMcFracture, Killer Kindness, Roxy Shocks, Margles McNasty, Sue Cidal, Raven Furies, Old Broad, Badd Mudda Trucka, and Truly F Obvious are just some of the names these women choose to use as their Rollergirl personas. The girls stay in character from the moment their skates hit the floor. The first skater I met one recent evening at the Bloomington Sportsplex introduced herself to me as Killer, short for Killer Kindness. Just like me, she’s a graduate student. She’s in the School of Library and Information Science. \nSue Cidal entered around 6:30 p.m., wearing a shirt that read “Well-Behaved Women rarely make history” in intense red letters. \nCidal and Killer Kindness talk and exchange greetings. The chatter becomes louder as more of the girls and a few supporters enter. The women begin putting on their skates, pads, and helmets and pull out their skate tools to work. \n“Sometimes a bad day is a good day for practice.”\n“Spandex. I think the guys at my school like it …” \n“Does your mom know you talk like that?”\n“I like your socks.” \n“Journeys has cute socks.”\n“Racy, I can see your underwear.” \n“We are not racy.”\nMolly McFracture enters. She injured her ankle, so she’s on the sidelines for the day. As she sits down and we start to talk, Old Broad enters. She examines Molly’s ankle. Her right ankle looks unnaturally puffy and plays host to all sorts of colors from purple to greenish yellow in certain spots. Apparently in the last practice Old Broad collided with Molly sending her flying hard into the sidelines. \nNow it’s close to 6:50, and the chatter starts to end as the girls all take the floor. They circle orange mini cones, gliding smoothly, gracefully. Then just as I’m beginning to feel entranced by the breeze and noise of the skates, a squeal of brakes echoes throughout the gymnasium. Raven Furies has stopped abruptly to start stretching.\nAt this point, one skater catches my attention. With dark pigtails, she rolls fluidly, effortlessly, the fastest at the moment. Her name is X Libris. She streaks by like lightning.\nAll the girls chat and smile at each other. I’m reminded of girls at a skate rink party, except for the intense speed.\nThe skate rink idea vanishes as a whistle blows and the girls begin wind sprints. The harsh, industrial fluorescent lights beam down. The girls are already glistening with sweat.\nThe coach, Sylver Max, stares. She’s tall and in charge, and as a 1985 Indiana Women’s Speed Skating Champ, she has a right to be. She starts the team on a passing exercise.\nOld Broad takes off. As she passes a teammate, she almost knocks her over. She grabs her butt to steady her from falling and pats her on the back. Then she keeps on passing effortlessly, skating fiercely. The girls all continue to talk to each other, working out the drill. \n“Crap,” one girl yells as she slips and goes down to one knee. “One person every straight away,” the coach yells over the woo-woo of skates. A whistle blows for a short break.\nThe girls, panting and yelling for water, take a quick break. Before they’ve had a chance to fully catch their breath, the coach yells “Everybody tired? Sprint!”\n“I love her,” Molly smiles.\nThe next drill involves trying to chase and pass teammates. Roller Derby involves jammers, pivots and blockers. Jammers try to pass opposing team members and get a point every time they do. Blockers and pivots try to stop them. \nEpic Brendemic and Old Broad have started circling. The team catcalls and cheers them on. \n“You’re faster, you’re bigger and badder, yes you are.” \n“This is a woman’s travel.”\n“Make him work girl, make him work!”\n“Don’t be the guy who gets there and can’t finish now, come on!” Jimbo screams.\nNext the group prepares to start a scrimmage. Two girls put on maroon helmet covers with big yellow stars. These are the jammers, Molly explains to me. Two other girls, the pivots, have stripes on their helmets. “Stripes set the pace,” Molly says.\nAs I watch the scrimmage begin, I’m amazed at the difficulty of the sport. You really have to be tough. \n“Wall! Wall! Make a damn wall! Oh come ON guys,” X Libris yells. \n“Ten seconds!”\n“Why does everyone look so tired!”\nKiller falls twice, tripping over X Libris and another skater. She groans, and picks herself back up quickly. She’s a jammer at this point, so she has to keep going, keep passing … \nAs practice winds down and I head for my car, I keep trying to imagine these women in their day jobs or day-to-day lives. At one point I did try to ask Molly what some of the girls do for a living. She started to share but quickly decided against it. She said not all the girls share what they do with the public. It keeps a certain persona going.\nBut, I can’t stop wondering what they do for a living, who they go home to, what other interests they have, who they are when they’re not Killer Kindness, Molly McFracture and Roxy Shocks. The Bleeding Heartland Rollergirls seem to concentrate so fiercely and intently on their skating at practice that nothing else matters. As I arrived home I realized I couldn’t remember driving there. For a few hours I had forgotten all about other pressing matters I had to attend to. I had entered their world for just a moment, and it was exhilarating.