Back To the Derby Conclusion.

I would be remiss if I did not talk about the blockers- those at the center of the action.

As I sit here at type this, upon reflecting on what I saw Saturday, it seems these women have the most complex job on the team. Certainly it can be the most frustrating and excruciating. If you are a blocker you are on skates, and while you may be experienced at skating, part of the back of your mind is working to make sure you keep balance and pace with the pivots. Not only that you have to worry about your counterparts on the other side. You have to be mindful of where they are and be prepared to act on them in split second. You have to have your body in a state of expectancy that you will be blindsided or unexpectedly shoved by the oppositions blockers.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly you have to keep in mind where your jammers are in relation to where you in the pack are. So when Minnie Mayhem, Cosmo Disco or Stella Italiana from the Dames and Sammi Tsunami and Hether Skelter from the Rollergirls come barreling toward you with the determined fury of a muscle car on the Autobahn you have to develop a split second strategies to deal with all of this madness.

But let us not sympathize too much with the blockers. They are also in the best position to knock someone on their ass. I remember a feature on Sports Center about the rise of roller derby (which I will post on here later) which included an interview with a girl with the moniker Honey Homicide. Honey said these famous words without a hint of cheekiness: "I hear people say 'well I don't want to hit somebody else.' Why not? You're totally missing out."

A final note on all of this. All the roles, pivots, jammers and blockers, are interchangeable. There was a sequence where Road Block, from the Rollergirls served as a jammer and Stella Italiana of the dames also served in role of blocker.

Regulars in the blocker pack for the Dames included Toxic Moss, M.O.A.B and Meggar Bomb and many others I am fogetting

Truly it was one of the best Saturday nights. This incarnation of Roller Derby was everything that I hoped for as a long time fan. From the first jam to the last, it had all of the warmness of catching up with an old friend. Yet during the match my mind could not escape the thought of the specialness of it all.

To me, the Des Moines Derby Dames, and the Wisconsin River Valley Rollergirls were a confirmation of everything that is noble, decent and honest in sports. You see, the weekend that Noel and I saw this match was day three of the Masters Golf Tournament. We all know about Tiger Woods' infidelities and while I try not to get caught up in expecting piousness from our athletes, I could not help but feel let down as a lifelong Tiger fan. It wasn't the same. It was also the first full weekend of Major League Baseball- a sport that has been tarnished by steroid allegations and multi-million dollar mercenaries that seem distant and aloof from its fans, even though I do still love it.

All of us who are fans of athletics are looking for something to love and believe in again. We desire the purity and competitiveness of the game that we see in our parks and rec softball diamonds and basketball courts. The Dames-Rollergirls bout provided that, but it gave us so much more.

Any who has played a game dreamed of becoming a legend. We dreamed of being heroes. We wanted to hit the game winning home run or sink the game winning basket. We wanted to be admired by friend and total stranger alike. We wanted to make the stadiums rock. We wanted to be heroes.

As I was watching these two teams skate.; observing the Dames joy at the close of their match, looking at the children of the Dames who were mothers smile and glow upon the conclusion of the match with the realization that their mom not only kicks ass figuratively, but literally; and listening to the applause and cheers and cheers of the audience during the match itself display pleasure at a successful or intense play got me thinking.

These women have not only resurrected a sport that I loved but thought was all but dead, they have turned themselves in the legends that most of us only dream about being. The names and persona may be exaggerated, but the event and the feeling were true. They dreamed. But more than that, they did something about it. And they did it with nothing more than a pure love for the game. No strings attached.

I sat there in the audience, which was cornucopia of average good midwesterners, handsome men and beautiful women out for a good time on a Saturday night, punks and regulars Children and families. I felt that we were witnessing more than a match. We were watching dreams in action. We were watching these regular women making themselves into legends. We were witness to pure sport and athleticism.

If you believe nothing else of what I have written you must do this: before the summer is ended you must go to a roller derby bout and see for yourself. There is nothing like a Roller Derby bout. Don't try to find a substitute either in one of those sports-entertainment derby leagues, either. Leave the buffoonery to the buffoons. Go to the real thing and go fast before it explodes.

And if you go, you will probably see me. I will be going back to Des Moines and am planning on making pit stops in Cedar Rapids, Iowa City and the Quad Cities. 

And if you went on Saturday to the bout at the Val-Air or if you saw a bout in Wausau, Wisconsin, tip your caps to these women and be proud. They walk in the rarified air that most of us only dream of. . They are not sport entertainers like the Derby players of old.

They are athletes of the first degree.

They are legends.

They are heroines.