The Agony And The Empathy

The arena is a house divided. Half the masses cheer on the group of hugging women clad in red and black,  mouthguards shining under the lights of the Key. Their cries of jubilation reach the ceiling and bounce back thunderously into the chests of their fans.

For the other half those screams of pure joy hit every heart with a dull thump. These supporters are still in shock, as is their team. To be so close to victory only to have it elude them in the final minutes has momentarily stolen their collective breath.

Yet there is one skater from this silver-clad crew of ladies who is missing. A few moments earlier, overcome by emotion, she rushed from the arena as fast as her skates would take her and skidded into the hallway. Now she is barely visible while bent at the waist, her makeup-clad face in her hands.

For a few seconds she is alone, surrounded only by the dull light of the corridor.

*

Missile America of the Throttle Rockets was the standout skater in Saturday night's Rat City Rollergirls Championship bout. When her team was trailing Grave Danger by a Jackson, she rolled to the occasion and netted a 25-point jam for the galactic gals. Her skating and endurance captivated the crowd all night--exemplified by raucous chants of "MIS-SILE! MIS-SILE! MIS-SILE!" erupting from the TR section.

And so as she lined up against Carmen Getsome for the very last jam, we all had no doubt that the ensuing two minutes would be a blast. So to speak.

Only seconds after the whistle, though, came a result no one expected. It's all a blur in my mind--Missile furiously skating to the penalty box, fists clenched in disbelief. Carmen passing like a madwoman to send Grave Danger's point total ever higher. A whistle's high-pitched tweet. And finally a flood of boos cascading down onto those in the striped shirts.

I was stunned. What the hell had just happened?

On my way home I tried asking everyone around me what the call was on #321. Nobody seemed to know, from the TR t-shirt wearers in the stands to the Derby Brat crossing Harrison Street with her parents. Upon reaching my apartment I took to Facebook and Twitter, desperately seeking an answer as to why we'd all been robbed of a great jam showdown. The answer came an hour later from Twitter user @mechazoidal:

"Word from Dolemout [Rat City Ref] was upper forearm blocking during the last jam."

My stomach churned at this news, and my mind flashed back to the heartbreaking image of Missile America sitting helpless in the penalty box during the final jam. So far removed from where she belonged--on the track inspiring her teammates with her bursts of speed, controlled but quick turns and wicked weaves that had left opposing blockers in the dust.

Some of the online universe was not impressed with the Rat Refs. "That wouldn't have happened if we'd had a real ref on the floor at the time," said a friend of mine on Facebook. "RCRG refs suck! Always been a problem. . .looks like it still is."

"That was a horrible way to end a championship bout," said a commenter on an RCRG FB status. Rules need to be changed. . .the gift power jam was just so anti everything that is cool about derby." I knew this wasn't going to do the already-tarnished ref reputation any favors; attendance seemed down for this championship bout and I wondered if it was sparked by the episode with ReAnimateHer.

I also wondered how Missile was feeling.


Does she feel like she lost the bout for her team? Were some of her fellow TRs angry with her? Is she gonna she be able to sleep tonight, or will the moment of the foul call just play over and over again in her head?


When I messaged Ms. MA herself the next day to tell her I was writing this post, it honestly didn't occur to me to ask about her true feelings surrounding the loss. I figured it was too soon, too painful, too personal. But she graciously offered me the use of any quotes I wanted to collect. And so here, in her own words, is a glimpse into the sparkly-helmeted jammer's world this past weekend. I dare your heart not to race.

1. What was in your mind at the start of the last jam? (Were you thinking about how well the rest of the bout had gone, about the blockers Grave Danger had on the track, about being close to the win, anything else that was in your brain?)

What was on my mind was “Okay, it’s me against Carmen Getsome. You can do this Missile.” I’m a very competitive person in everything that I do, so I just wanted to beat her off the jam line and get lead to score points. That’s it. I didn’t want to over think anything while I was preparing for the final whistle to blow. I always run through a visual before every jam. I always see myself getting lead. I always see myself beating the other jammer off the jam line. I always see myself racing hard until the end. I never pay attention to the crowd yelling for or against me. I just focus on doing my job successfully. I literally had zoned in for that championship game, it was almost like tunnel vision for me. I knew that it was game on.

2. How did you feel when the penalty call was made and you had to skate to the penalty box?

Oh boy, well I felt robbed. I felt as if the refs made a horrible call. I was in disbelief and thought to myself “no...no way...” Sometimes I feel as if the refs are bias, and that it’s the refs vs. a player. So when that call came about, I was in shock...I had a good rap sheet that game and was only in the box maybe once. It’s just unfortunate. I purely felt like I got robbed.

3. Did you understand the call right away?

No. I did not. It took me a second because I remember hearing the whistle blow and thinking “yes, she (Method of Madness) got called for an illegal hit on me, yes”...Then I looked at the ref, and he showed me the sign that means leave the track for committing a major penalty. It was unreal. I left the track and begin tearing up uncontrollably as I made my way to the penalty box.

4. How did you feel when the final whistle blew?

I felt horrible. I felt like I let my team down. I felt just bad... My team worked so hard for this. I felt in my heart that we were going to win. So I immediately felt bad.

5. How did the Throttle Rockets as a team respond to the loss?

It was quiet in the locker room. It might have just been me though. I’m sure that I looked pissed off or super emotional, and they probably just wanted to give me some time to deal with it. After I put my gear in my bag, that’s when my team mates came around to tell me how they felt. It was all supportive and nice. We all had agreed that the stats and our whole endurance and strength as a team had shown that we really were the winners ultimately.

6. And lastly, you've done such a great job bouncing back from the loss. What's helped you get past it and look towards the future?

Thank you. In a nutshell, I’m an athlete. Have been a super competitive soccer player and have been taught to not dwell on a game. If I did, I really wouldn’t be progressing. And as the athlete that I am, I just had to realize that I gave it my all. I put up one hell of a fight for the other team and that I just have got to leave it all on the track. Plus I have the All Star traveling team to look forward to. I am beyond excited to once again play against the best teams with the best players.


Games are won and lost by seconds, inches, burning muscles and bursting lungs.  It is so tempting for us as fans to define athletes only in those seconds, only by the fouls that get called at the worst time. Let us make sure to define this one by the way she rebounds from losses--by the way she has picked herself up and set her skates back on track. By the way she exudes positivity where a lesser athlete might sulk or shrink away.

Betty Ford Galaxy, Missile America's TR teammate, took to Facebook the day after the championships and said, "We may have won the silver, but we captured the hearts of Seattle."

I think we know who led the way.

(You have GOT to check this picture by Axle Adams.)

Big thanks to Missile America and to the RCRGs for a great home season!

Lucky 13: Angie Mentink's Journey from Montlake to Mic

The woman’s voice on the other end of the line is deeper than I thought it would be. Sure, I’ve heard it on display in many a TV broadcast, but I’m still surprised by its richness, manifest in everything from mirth to musings.

Suddenly she turns her attention from me, and I can barely make out a child’s question bubbling up from what must be the kitchen floor.

“In a cup?” my conversation partner asks in response. Her words are slightly higher-pitched now, and filled with care and concern. A few seconds pass.

“Sorry about that,” she says, and resumes discussing baseball.

* * * * *

Angie Mentink is not a woman who has trouble finding her voice. Indeed, over the course of our phone conversation I begin to believe that she’s never even had to look. That she was just born with it, and has spent the ensuing years coming up with new notes and chords.

Good thing, too, because as a broadcaster for ROOT Sports Angie uses that unique voice to tell stories. To temporarily transform the Seattle Mariners’ baseball stars in caps and cleats back into the sometimes-shy, twenty-something young men they really are.

For much of her life, though, Angie spoke the loudest with a bat in her hands.

* * * * *

Unlike many of today’s softball stars, Angela Marzetta didn’t put on a pair of sliding shorts until she reached double digits in age. Spending hours in the backyard playing pickle and 500 was more her style, and this independence is woven into her thoughts about youth athletics. “I’m old-school; I’ll get up on my soapbox for anyone who will listen,” she says insistently. “Kids don’t just play anymore. We pick teams; our leaders are appointed rather than rising naturally.”

Her family’s migratory patterns could have clipped her own wings of leadership; Angie went to three different high schools in as many states. Instead she chose to not only get involved but make headlines. As a sophomore she became the first woman to play for her high school football team, filling slots at wingback and outside linebacker. She notes the achievement with what appears to be a signature mix of matter-of-fact confidence and humility: “I was on the B Team, so they were all the same size as me.” Although softball cleats came out every spring, the sport wasn’t the dominating force in her athletic life.

That changed in the quest for a college education. As Mentink puts it, “As 1 of 6 kids, I was looking for a scholarship.” The hunt stopped after finding a junior college in Arizona, home to a coach who’d won three national championships already. Angie tells me they won two more while she was on the roster, and although we’ve only been on the phone for ten minutes I find not a hint of surprise crop up within me.

* * * * *

University of Washington softball is a legit powerhouse across the country, winning the National Championship in 2009 and making standout pitcher Danielle Lawrie a household name. (“My son Chase is a huge Danielle Lawrie fan,” Mentink says. “He’s always pretending to be her.”) But it wasn’t always this way. When 20-year old Angela Marzetta visited Seattle as a softball prospect, the program didn’t yet exist. “It was a weird recruiting trip,” Angie explains. “There were no fields, no team. It was just like, ‘Hey, do you wanna be the first?’”

Angie answered that question and the ensuing challenges with a resounding YES. With one other junior, she and head coach Theresa Wilson took twelve freshmen and lay the groundwork for what is now one of UW’s most well-known programs. She tells me it’s not always easy to be a trailblazer, but that there are perks to it: “You’ll probably have the stolen base record for a while, y’know?”

Which she does--nineteen years after successfully snagging 59 of an attempted 63 stolen bases in 1993. In fact, if you check the Husky softball all-time stats, you will find the name Angela Marzetta stamped all over that packet like a purple n’ gold seal of approval. Most hits in a single game. Highest career batting average. Most stolen bases in a game. To stand the test of time is one of the hardest things to do in athletics, yet Angie shows no signs of arrogance when discussing the numbers.

Unlike many diamond warriors, the end of college did not signify the end of Mentink’s playing days. In fact, she was about to become one of an elite group of women that would do what none had done before: play professional baseball against men.

* * * * *

The Colorado Silver Bullets emerged in the spring of 1994, when Coors teamed up with Whittle Sports Properties to realize a dream ten years in the making (Johnson, Anne Janette. Great Women In Sports). Formed specifically as a women’s pro-baseball team that would play against men, the Silver Bullets toured the country and made believers out of haters.

I ask Angie how she came to be a Silver Bullet, and the story is told with enthusiasm, punctuated by genuine throaty laughs along the way. In 1995, an assistant coach of hers recommended she go to a tryout in Everett. After a nerve-wracking three months and a communication error (see what I did there?), the order came: report to spring training. Mentink remembers the moment well. “I was in a towel jumping up and down on my bed when I heard I’d been invited!”

But why baseball? Didn’t she feel more of a pull towards the bigger ball, the underhand delivery, the chatter of softball benches after so many years in the game? “I don’t want to bash softball,” Mentink says, “because softball’s been good to me. But I was always pretending to be a baseball player when I was young. When it came down to the Olympics versus pro baseball, there was never a doubt in my mind—that [baseball] was always the dream.”

Mentink (then Marzetta) spent the summers of ‘95 and ’96 living that dream, playing in parks like Shea Stadium and the Metrodome. (I still have my ticket from the night they came to The Kingdome.)I’m curious if she ever felt like a novelty, though. Something for fans to just look at and give no legitimacy to.  A pause comes on the end of the line as she gives the inquiry some thought. “That’s a great question,” she replies. “The novelty of something like the Silver Bullets is what gets attention. But it is and was the belief that women can play this sport on this level. . .a sport isn’t made popular just because men play it.” She cites the Bullets’ tangible impact on the nation during their heyday: “The number of young girls playing baseball skyrocketed. It was a very real goal to get more girls to play.”

In asking the former outfielder (who wore #13! Like me!) what it was like to play against men, I get a career athlete’s answer. She gives the vocal equivalent of an ‘ain’t no thang’ shrug. “If you go forth in life as a woman, you’re competing against men. […] Mostly it was just weird trying to get used to an overhand curveball, seeing it for the first time at the age of 22. It would’ve helped a lot to be able to see it at 13, then 15, and so on.”

I’ll let the Silver Bullets’ official website tell you what Angie did on the field during the ’95 season:

“Angie took the veterans by storm with her bat speed and her speed on the basepaths. On July 28, the switch-hitter became the first player in Silver Bullets' history to ever collect four hits in a game with her 4-for-5 performance in Geneva, IL. Angie finished the season tied for third in hitting (.221), the highest average among rookies. At three major league stadiums, she wowed the crowd with her hitting and her defense. At the Cleveland Indians' Jacobs Field, she went 2-for-3 and she gunned a runner out at home plate at Kauffman Stadium, home of the Kansas City Royals.”

Color me incredibly impressed but not the least bit shocked.

* * * * *

The conversation moves into Mentink’s most recent career incarnation: sports broadcasting. The transition came about while she was working as an assistant softball coach at the University of Washington; after the coaching team decided to hire another (male) candidate for a position Angie was poised to take, she peaced out.

It wasn’t an immediate transition from pop-ups to press box, though. “I never had any intentions of doing sports for a living,” she explains. “All of the women sportscasters seemed ditzy or rough around the edges. ‘I’m a serious journalist,’ I said. Then it was like, ‘Well, I’ll try it for a while. Maybe I can cross over to news.”

Mentink has made news out of sports reporting, though. When struggling teams are involved, it takes a great storyteller to keep a local audience captivated. I ask her what she likes about interviewing and reporting. “I like to tell stories that have a beginning, middle and end, that make you laugh—or maybe make you cry—but at least make you feel something.”

“These guys are athletes, but they’re real people too.”

Employing her complex understanding of what it means to be both an athlete and a real person has taken Angie far in the sports world. She agrees with my suggestion that her time with the Bullets probably helped her establish legitimacy with her MLB interview subjects, particularly at the start of her career. Mariner coaches will have her warm them up before games, as several rate her arm “4 stars out of 5.” She laughs with a hint of pride in her voice. “That’s when the guys will come out to watch and be like, ‘Are you kidding me?!’”

“Now I’m just the old married lady with kids.”

The kids are Angie’s biggest priorities now. The time for scores of community events has passed, its minutes replaced with sports games and school. “My arms only open so wide,” Mentink says. “I get pulled in a lot of different places.” But baseball is woven into most everything Angie does, and as a result I’m told her two young’ns hang out at Safeco Field so much they think “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” ends with “Louie, Louie.”

* * * * *

The subject of kids and parents comes up as I quiz Mentink on who she’d consider her most influential mentor. “I’d probably stick with my mom,” she says, not hesitating a bit. “My mother was more supportive than anyone throughout my career. Whether you’re a good mom or a good coach, it’s about believing in someone.”

Angie has taken the support of her mother and used it as a foundation for that voice I spoke of earlier. It is a voice infused with the spirit of the game and laced with tales of an incredible life already lived. Some of my other favorite tidbits of our conversation include:

On Title IX legislation author Patsy Mink: “Read up on her some time, because what she did? It’ll drop your frickin’ jaw.”

On UW’s 2009 softball championship win: “The Mariners were really into it, watching the games in the clubhouse and stuff. When they won I was just so happy. And [Ken] Griffey [Jr.] was like, ‘What are you all happy for? You didn’t win anything.’”

On looking for a college: “My mom was like, ‘Well, you’re not gonna get a scholarship playing drums.’ I did buy a drum set when I was thirty though.”

* * * * *

It’s time for Angie’s kids (who have been playing catch with their dad for the duration of our conversation) to get off to school, and so I have to say goodbye. But before the athlete, journalist and mom hangs up the phone, she takes the time to hear about my sport and its craziness. I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she thinks of a way to tell the tale of hurling to the Pacific Northwest. To fill a few minutes of talk with all of the excitement, heart and humanity that accompanies athletic pursuits. To make viewers feel connected to movement and success.

“That would make a great story,” she says.

* * * * *

 Silver Bullets Trading Card                                             Angie Mentink
c/o coloradosilverbullets.org                              c/o ROOT Sports Northwest

BREAKING NEWS: Re-Animate Her, Rat City Rollergirls Part Ways

This evening on Re-Animate Her's Facebook page, the following letter was posted:

"I wanted to take a moment to communicate with you, fans of Re-AnimateHer and fans roller derby.  As of Sunday April 15, I am no longer a member of the Rat City Roller Girls organization; I am seeking other opportunities within our sport.  In short, my relationship with the RCRG organization and my participation in the sport of roller derby as a member of RCRG has been strained and has become untenable.  RCRG and I disagree on some basic issues such as that of skater safety, and fairness and transparency in organizational operations.  There are details that lie beyond the scope of this short communication, but I do encourage you, the fans, the press, and my peers to ask questions, and to not be shy about wanting to know, if you're inclined (http://ratcityrollergirls.com/about-us/contact-us/).

To be ultra clear: I am, by no means, leaving the sport of roller derby; I will continue to be involved as a great player, a great coach, and and I look forward to seeing everyone and competing with my peers in my next appearance on skates: as a member of Team LEGIT, competing in the Battle on the Bank in Seattle, first weekend in June.  While I no longer support RCRG as an organization overall, I want to emphasize that my decision does not extend to the individual skaters who remain members of the league.  

Thanks for reading and thanks, most of all, for your support.

Re-AnimateHer"

This is a big loss for Rat City, in my book--Cecilia may be defiant and outspoken, but these are not qualities to bemoan, especially in a sport that is supposed to be based on self-expression and competition as well. She is also a great ambassador for the sport of derby both across the country and around the world. 

I'm not as surprised about this as one might think; she's been frustratedly posting about the refs, player safety and organizational conduct for a while now. . .and when I looked into her eyes in the tunnel at the Key a few months ago, I could tell that this was a woman not interested in taking shit, not interested in losing and definitely not interested in feeling like she's being held back from succeeding at the sport she loves.

I will miss Ms. Mater but I wish her the very best in her future four-wheeled adventures. Check this pic from her last-ever RCRG bout and you tell me: how many hundreds of Jams you think she's yet to skate? 

Photo by Axle Adams; RCRG Season 8 Bout 3 

Shoutin' out for hard decisions and high emotions, 

Steph 

P.S I should add that not being privy to the intricacies of the conflict between RCRG and RE-AH, I am not taking either's side. Merely reflecting an appreciation of how hard it is to make this type of decision. I will still be attending RCRG bouts.

Live From The Rat's Nest!

Coming at you live from Ballard, folks!

9:49 AM: 33 skaters are signed up to tryout; looks like the max is gonna be 21 new skaters. Ladies are warming up now, circling the track. Both serious and smiley faces!


9:53 Seated at the captain's table with IRockIt and gettin' the lowdown on the ladies' progress over the years. Skating has improved immensely in the last 2-3 years, super competitive now!


9:58 Max Million of Throttle Rockets skates by with a latte; sparkles and Starbucks. . .how Seattle!


10:02 It's go time! Coaches decked out in green and white gather in the center to welcome new skaters. Sound of skates on the track channels the rain on the warehouse roof!

10:06 Hard to believe such a welcoming atmosphere in a warehouse. You walk in expecting fishermen at the docks and find an encouraging collection of women.

Lucinda Pack explaining the time commitment. . .and rewards. . .of derby. "You will get injured. . .if you need to lift your left arm over your head for your job, roller derby is not for you."

10:10 All skaters circling the track together behind Kamikaze Kim. I see focus, I see nerves, but I see some badass future RCRG muthas too.


10:12 All about the rockin socks today. Red stripes, ninjas, black with lightning bolts. Glad I wore my new green ones with the koi!

10:14 Out of the 33 registrants, 16 have come to play. Sweet sixteen on the track.


10:17 Three separate captains have told me the story of Jami, wearing number 28 today. 6 months ago she tried out unsuccessfully, but has dedicated herself to improving her skills and improving her life through derby. Inspiration on wheels.

10:20 Nehi Nightmare and Avihater leading the Swedish mile, where the ladies go from back to front. Those two leading each other with their shoulders too. :)

I see my first fall of the day, but it ain't no thang. Girlfriend gets up and keeps on truckin.

10:24 IRockIt on derby commitment: "You can say it, but until you do it you don't realize."


10:28 Each team has different needs. . .some are seeking skaters that can hit the ground running, while other teams want utility players who can be molded either way. Better. . .faster. . .stronger!

10:31 Warmup done. Water slugged. Skaters sit, stretch and breathe.

10:33 Sweat. That last word in the previous post should have been been sweat.

10:38 Timed sprint laps, with the whole pack of rookies cheering each other on along the way. Can see the concentration in their faces; hope it translates to the skates.

10:42 Wanna be Fresh Meaters have a lot less tats than the current RGs, I note. Maybe that'll change if they're picked?

10:45 DLF captains on the phenomenon of sliding across the track at the end of drills: "Hm. The floor's kind of uneven. I don't think we do it on purpose."

10:48 Captains pool to discuss first cuts. True to the club's code, they take it very seriously. Confer, consider, converse and chat. A wheel change noted. . .guess you gotta do what you gotta do to stay on track.

10:56 Sockit Wenches, in two minutes or less: "We want people who are athletic, but malleable too. Someone who knows how to be a part of a team. We lost seven players at the end of last year, so we're rebuilding right now. We could just skate our seven best players all the time and only sub one or two, but we're interested in building our whole team. We like people that take self-responsibility and can commit to positivity. Anyone who talks shit to a ref? They're gone."

11:00 First cuts finalized and two skaters go home. . .I salute you, ladies, and hope you are proud of yourselves.

11:05 Toe stops. I keep looking around to see if my car's transmission is making that noise!

11:08 #33 has had a smile on her face this entire time. You go girl with your ninja socks!

11:15 Cones and jumps and stops, oh my! Obstacle course in full effect. Captains are observing but cheering under their breath: "Head up, head up." "You can do it!" "Just get up and keep going."

11:21 Grave Danger, in two minutes or less courtesy Shorty Ounce: "We're about putting your head down and working hard. We want someone who will get up off the track and keep going."

11:24 Blocking drill=tap dancing on skates. Eat your heart out, 1920's!

11:28 Throttle Rockets, in 2 minutes or less courtesy IrockIt: "Throttle Rockets work hard. We spend a lot of time together, so we respect each other and want to make sure we enjoy each others' company. We want people who want to get better, do better and help their teammates. In tryouts I look for that fire. You don't have to be the best skater, but you do have you give it everything you have."

11:38 Conference at the captain's table: "Do you wanna see force outs?" "YESSSSSSSSSS."

11:45 DLF in two minutes or less, from Yoko Onoudi'nt and Seditious Heart: "We're all about the utility players. We want people who are willing to be a part of a team and be a team player. The key to success is what you do for your team; derby is beyond what you do personally. I like people who love the game and bring something new to it."

11:51 I just remembered it was legit snowing on the way over here this morning. . .these derby gals are not only Rainy Day Women but Snowy day ones too.

11:58 Hearing from many RCRG staff that tryouts are much simpler and smaller since the Rat Lab and PFM Practice Squad came into existence. Tryouts used to consist of up to 70 people, and teams had to select women for their specific teams on the spot--as opposed to putting them in a training pool like they do now.


12:09 Nehi Nightmare has left the building. Overheard as all 4'8" of her walks out the door: "She's so street."

12:10 Done with force outs, blocking and moving through the pack. Time for these intrepid warriors to take off the skates and do shuttle runs. Blech! Can see the sweat coming down their faces and arms. . .never let anyone say these ladies didn't work hard today.


12:14 Learn that Nate (Corporal Punishment), Sockit Wenches coach, was in the Coast Guard and digs this next part of pushups and situps. And that Seditious Heart has a tendency to do one armed pushups, but only when she's got a broken wrist.

12:24 The different captains have dispersed to the corners of the Rat's Nest so that they can interview a couple players. . .5 minutes each to learn more about each player. I'm told I'll be able to sit in on one of the chats in a little bit, which is exciting.

During this time I look around and think about the name Rat's Nest--although it doesn't sound very friendly on the surface, in the past two hours I've come to see that this is a place for nurturing. For gauging strength and for presenting challenges, but also for tending to the needs of the women involved in this endeavor. A place for them to stretch their wings and test the waters. (I know rats don't have wings. Work with me.)

12:43 As I wait I also look at the sponsor banners covering the mats of the practice track. The Space Needle, Proformance Massage, Zeeks Pizza. Is it ever a difficult business decision, to support women's sports?

12:56 Jami, the woman mentioned by the various skaters earlier, sits down for her interview as a familiar face to the RCRG leaders. Her black hair is covered by a green and yellow kerchief, her nicely manicured nails adorning hands that clasp and unclasp frequently.

She is articulate, confident and has clearly learned & grown from the last time she tried out, according to the brass. A Microsoft employee, she deftly fields questions as to how she will balance derby with work and life.

"I'm really happy to be back," she says. "I feel like I've made some improvement." And it shows. She has a keen understanding of the game, breaking down her success and attributing it to goal setting. Doing one thing well per practice.

And this is the beauty of derby. It can be fun and it can be flashy, but at its heart these are serious athletes with the desire, hunger and want to compete and perform. Jami practices at least four days a week, if not more. She is a representative of flat track derby's future in Seattle, and I am proud to have had a few chance moments to listen to her speak.

1:05 PM: All the skaters have packed up and moved out of the training facility, meaning that's all that's fit to type from the Rat Lab. Many thanks to the roller girls and to the Fresh Meat wannabes for their time and accommodation of me!

Shoutin' out for my Sea Town derby girls today!

Steph

Brand New Derby Dudettes!

Hi all!

A quick note that tomorrow, 3/31, I will be live blogging from the Rat's Nest!

The what?

The Rat's Nest! The Rat City Rollergirls are holding tryouts tomorrow from 10-2 PM, and they have graciously agreed to let yours truly bring you updates and news as their future skates around their training track in Ballard.

So if you've got a minute or 240, stop by and check out the thoughts as they--ahem--roll on in!

Shoutin' out for my derby gals today,

Steph

The Ice Queen Cometh: Hockey Player for a Day!

The rookie eyes her prey as it slides slowly across the frozen solid surface beneath her blades. She glares at it, focusing intently. Her stick is brought back to cradle it, to capture it, to momentarily give it a home. The sounds of the arena fade away: the thumps of her teammates' sticks driving one puck after another into the boards. The slicing sound of their skates across the unforgiving ice. The curved bottom of her stick meets the edge of the midnight-black target, and as she pushes it back from whence it came. . .

  

. . .she falls down. 

As someone who'd never even touched a pair of hockey skates before, I knew that suiting up for this past Monday's practice with the Seattle Women's Hockey Club would involve some serious slippage. What I didn't know is that it would also showcase encouragement, camaraderie and smiles all around. 

From my first email contact with SWHC board members Lisa Bouchard and Jocelyn Ritchie, I realized I was dealing with a class act organization. Jocelyn has been skating for 12 years with both men's and women's teams, while Lisa is finishing her fourth year on blades. Their openness and welcoming attitude towards this little sports journalism experience almost melted my nervousness completely away. 

Note the almost. 

Hockey, as I discover immediately after arriving at Olympic Ice Arena in Mountlake Terrace, is the safe sex of sports: it's all about protection. Thanks to Angela Brastad I have an enormous bag of gear ready and waiting to be put on incorrectly. As Lisa leads me down the arena stairs and into the locker room, I catch the first of many overwhelming sensory experiences: the sound and smell of the ice. Come on, it seems to whisper nastily. Try not to look like a dumbass. I dare ya. 

Upon entering the small locker room (read: two benches and a shower), the big ol' bag and I get acquainted. Hockey is the first women's sport I've encountered that provides pelvic protection for women, comprised of something that looks like softball sliding shorts with a kind of spiderweb-panties-triangle thingie in the middle. "We call them Jills," says Jocelyn with a grin. 

After pullin' on my breezers (hockey pants), I next don the knee pads and long socks, which momentarily take me back to my mom's legwarmers circa 1985. These are thicker and of cooler colors though. More sets of slipping pads are applied to other various parts of my body, including elbows and shoulders. And then the skates! They're comfier than I'd expected and allow for rather easy standing. My helmet goes on without too much fuss (thank you Vanessa!) and then finally the gloves complete the picture. I'm as ready as I'll ever be!

I feel kind of like a cross between a Stormtrooper and the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, though. 

The sounds one hears upon skating onto a hockey practice rink for the first time are initially arresting, but then they relax into sort of a violent beauty. From the aforementioned thwack of shots into the boards to the goalie calling for yet another save opportunity, the arena resounds with noise. Yet it's productive noise. Determined noise. Noise that indicates dedication. 

It's 7:30 PM--an incredibly early practice time for these definitely dedicated Seattle Women. Most nights their sessions commence around 8:30 or 9, although they've started as late as 11. This is all due to the incredible cost of ice time; as both Lisa and Jocelyn explain it to me, "We're kind of on the low end of the totem pole, after the kids and everything." One might think this would dampen enthusiasm, but the 67 players comprising the 4 SWHC teams prove them damn wrong. 

Tonight there are about 20 women present with skates and sticks. Coach Skip, a bespectacled man of animated eyes and voice, calls for practice to begin. Jocelyn explains that this is Skip's 5th year as one part of the Club's coaching triumvirate, and over the next hour and a half I see why. "I know it's a lot of skating, ladies." he says at one point, "but there could be glory at the end!" 

I tentatively wobble on my skates over towards the end line, where the rest of the gals are gathered. As it was in 9th grade basketball, I pull an MJ and stick my tongue out. Concentrating, wanting to get it right. And desperately wanting to stay on my feet.

Jocelyn encourages me to skate with her, slowly at first and then picking up speed. She patiently teaches me to stop. . .successfully for the most part. Immediately after learning the ski plow technique I am filled with admiration for the arches, ankles and shins of each woman surrounding me. Never mind thinking on my feet--I gotta make sure I can still walk on them at the end of the night!

My personal coach then takes me through the basics of passing, and when I touch my stick to the puck for the first time there is a spark of connection that I don't want to break. I realize then that it doesn't matter if you're in cleats, skates, Air Jordans or Sambas. If you wanna score, you're gonna learn how to score. Whatever it takes.

A turning point comes for me not long after, when I transition from being fearful to being fierce. As the Seattle Women skate as one from end line to end line, the sound of their blades glossing over the ice is almost oceanic--the roar of thunderous waves. It fills up the rink and suddenly this is more than a club hockey practice. It is a testament, a call back to all that have played this sport before. Suddenly I don't care how stupid I look. All that matters is throwing my body and mind into understanding the intricacies of the ice.

During each drill that follows, all of the ladies pay rapt attention. They encourage each other and cheer for every player. Every time I think I look like an idiot and should step (um, skate?) aside, they commend me for my latest shot. They teach me to fall forward, not on my back. "Hitting your head on the ice hurts."

"I hate falling," says another.

"Why?" I query. "Because it hurts? Because it's embarrassing?"

"It's embarrassing," she replies. "But like Skip says, 'if you don't fall down at least once a practice you're not trying hard enough.'"

The average age of a Club player is 37, and as my presence on the ice evidences, a wide range of abilities comprises the four teams as well. One woman played as a kid and has spent a decade away from hockey, while another speedy teammate was off the ice for twenty years. "I really wish I hadn't taken that twenty year break," she says, shaking her head. "But that's life."

In addition to Lisa and Jocelyn, some of my other compatriots are happy to offer advice on everything from blade basics to rink etitquette. I hit the boards after one drill and a woman clad in green skates up to me, saying, "I know you're new and you're getting a lot of info and it's none of my business. . . ."

"Of course it's your business!" I say, laughing. 

"Well, I tell everyone don't stand behind the net, even at this level."

"Are you speaking from experience? Did you get hurt that way?"

"No, but a friend of mine refs men. . .she stood back there once and fractured her orbital bone."

I also discover that there's some debate in the hockey world as to the best way to grip your stick: the one I'm using is right-handed, so my dominant hand is placed on the shaft and my weak one on top. (I found this out only after sending a panicked text to my good friend Ian the night before practice. . .thanks Tink!) Yet after a weird backhand attempt, Beth takes me aside and shows me another tactic: get a lefty stick and put your strong hand on top. Sensing a camogie parallel I try it for a bit, but the jury's still out. 

In some drills I control and shoot the puck real well--others find me missing completely. But I'm proud of my rapid progression thanks to the tutelage of Jocelyn and the work ethic of the ladies around me. I suppose it's like many other things in life. . .once I put my fear behind me, my options unfold!

I stop early so I can hang back and watch the Seattle women in action. They are not figure skaters; they do not sail across the ice. Instead they glide powerfully, their legs churning as they run through the drill for the umpteenth time. They focus, they push, they shoot and then readjust if the puck doesn't hit net. The goalie in her black and pink-flamed mask takes every possession seriously, hitting the deck over and over again in pursuit of the biscuit. 

Skip asks if the ladies want to keep doing drills or bag it for the night. They rap their sticks on the ice and vote to keep going, which is utterly unsurprising. These are women who come to play in the few hours before midnight--women that maximize every precious second of ice time they get--women that take one last cut across the hash marks before the zamboni must wipe all evidence of their skates away. 

After hitting the bench for her final slug of water, one player tells me: "Just a year ago, I was scared shitless. . .but Jocelyn taught me how to skate and here I am."

"Why do it? What made you want to play so bad?"

"I've watched it all my life. . .but I'm really a participator." 

It's back into the locker room now, to easily undo what was so hard to put together only an hour and a half before. It feels unnatural for my feet to return to the floor as I have come to stand steadily upon skates in this short period of time. Undressing is not without difficulty, though--now I have to fit all of my sweaty gear back in the bag. I was never very good at Tetris, unfortunately, and so it takes me a bit to persuade the zippers to close. 

I truck the gear up the stairs and relinquish possession of it once more. As the crisp, clean smell of the ice fades from my senses I relive in my mind an earlier scene: one of the physically impressive but kind-faced players is addressing me after I miss the puck yet again. Clad in a Penguins jersey, she utters words that I believe this strong, capable group of women has taken to heart. Has adopted as they practice late at night, play for sparsely populated crowds, return after 3-month concussion hiatuses and balance their family lives with the sport they love. 

"Don't stretch for it," she says. "Just keep skating." 

* * * * * *

Go watch the Seattle Women's Hockey Club THIS WEEKEND in the Everett Ravens' Fools on Ice Tournament. . .or April 14th and 15th in the SWHC Mini-Tourney!

A Tale of Two Sports: Gaelic Football and Camogie In Pictures

"I am a member

of a team

and I rely on the team.

I defer to it

and sacrifice for it

because the team,

not the individual,

is the ultimate

champion."

 

 

-Mia Hamm, Olympian, World Cup Champion and star soccer player

Come out to Field Day at Magnuson Park at 12 noon this Sunday, and you'll find that the sports of gaelic football and camogie are more than just athletic endeavors. They're connections to a grand culture, an opportunity to grow your confidence and a community of women dedicated to both each other and to having fun. 

Magnuson is located at 7400 Sand Point Way NE, Seattle, 98115. Bring water, cleats and dress all sporty--we'll provide you with the rest!

Come be a part of our teams.

Shoutin' out for my Seattle Gaels Girls--present and future!

Steph