Engaged In Play

Engaged in Play
by Rockquelle Damage, Wreckin’ Roller Rebels, Denver, Colorado

We are engaged in play.
We are playing a game.

You know how baseball players and football players and basketball
players get paid a lot of money, and all the public school teachers
(me included) shake their heads and say, “They get paid THAT MUCH for
playing a GAME?”

Yeah, that idea. Think about that for a minute. I’m not arguing about
levels of skill, or whether or not it’s a reflection on our society’s
value on sports, blah blah blah. I’m not. I’m talking about the
concept of “game” and “play.”

Derby is fun!

Remember when you were a kid, and you went out to play with your
friends, and your friend wanted to race? “Race you on my bike!” And
you took the challenge because you were on your bike, too, and why
not? So you raced.

You didn’t think about it, you just raced. And your legs pumped and
your lungs burned, and your leg muscles started to burn, too, and you
either won or you lost.

And then you did it again.

“Let’s go play softball.” And you rounded up your friends and your
gear, and found a place to play, and you played.

You played. You didn’t care that you only had 7 people. It didn’t
matter that Shorty forgot his glove--you made him the pitcher, told
him to duck, and that was that. You played, you won, you lost.

You did it the next day, too. Or weekend. Or whatever.

We, playing roller derby, are re-creating our childhood. Maybe the
first time around it wasn’t all that great. Maybe you aren’t the “you”
referenced above, and you weren’t sporty, and you didn’t run like the
wind, run until your legs failed and you fell and skinned both knees
through your jeans, and laughed and laughed at yourself when your
friend doused them with Bactine for you.

Yesterday, I jammed in a real bout, in front of paying strangers, for
the first time in my life. I’m 43 years old. And I ran like the
fucking wind, and skated like it was the last jam, every jam. I got as
low as I could, and my leg muscles burned, oh how they burned. I
knocked the other jammer out-of-bounds when I was blocking, and talked
to my teammates, and yes, I made a couple of mistakes.

I played.

We lost by 2 points (2 points!), and we were so bummed out, and at the
same time so proud of our team and the play we did.

I almost just wrote “the work we did.” I’m trying to get away from
that way of thinking. It takes a long time in derby to get to the
point that a skater can enjoy every single minute of a bout and feel
actual joy. It takes a lot of hard WORK. It does. It’s hard work to be
able to play this game!

That’s why many players, I think, get upset with derby. We invest so
much time and energy into the work of it, into building up our skills,
into building up our muscles, training them to do the right thing in a
split-second, as needed, that we sometimes cannot remember why we are
working so hard. And we get frustrated and angry, and it all feels
like too much. The other jammer gets into our heads. We get distracted
and then get pissed off. And then one person says the wrong thing, and
we’re off in an angry funk.

Listen. It does take a lot of hard, hard work to be able to play this
game. But I would be willing to bet (chime in if I’m wrong) that the
elite players at Champs and Team USA level also have fun playing
derby.

Once you get to the fun level, you are rewarded with:

bruises to share with our friends
scrapes to douse with Bactine
muscles to show off
fitness to be spontaneous
confidence to cope with life
new hair cuts and colors
tattoos
lots and lots of t-shirts
photos to help us remember
memories to share
friends to love

We are playing a game. It’s what children do. Aging doesn’t mean you
are that age and that’s it. Remember--you are every age you have ever
been. You know how to play. Do it.

Wanna race?