Friday Night
Tomorrow is the draft and though I say I am not worried, it is 1:30 am and sleep is avoiding me like the plague. Jerk!
After 6 months of wanting to be on a team, any team, the night before finally makes me wise to the team I am losing. Together we learned that falling only means getting back up, fear is a waste of time and sticking together and communicating makes any obstacle obsolete and everything an instant good time… just add derby girl.
I know tomorrow is going to be intense but so long as I am armed with beer and have a cavalry of quality ladies at my side, I am excited to battle awkwardness and butterflies. I don’t know who will be lucky enough to have any of us…but, if this is just the beginning of derby love, I am a happy addict.
Draft Day
The Draft was even more nerve wracking and dramatic than anticipated. During the Cubs VS Cougs match, I stole glances of fellow farmlings adjusting their ‘everything is fine’ look and wished I could see if my own was holding up.
In the purgatory hours between the match and the phone calls we sit at Squirley’s, where the pitchers could not come fast enough. We make easy conversation and manage to convince ourselves that we are not worried, just excited…then come the phone calls and my confidence flees like sleep did the night before. Traitor!
Five of us farmlings present one on standby at the airport….
Ring. A Bettie, beers clink….silence…. Ring. Another Bettie, beers clink…. ‘we are so happy for you’ ...silence...... A Gore, beers clink….. Silence.
This silence seems to stretch on longer than the last. I check my phone for the infinity billionth time that night. It just lays there and I feel both relief and unbearable twisting in my stomach to discover it works fine. More silence. My phone makes a noise but it is a text. I slam buttons so my phone can focus on phone calls and it is announced that a Doll only needs to standby for a plane. We clink our glasses and the silence falls again. Pacing starts but I am pinned in the corner. “Where are you going? Take your phone!!!”
Ring ring...not my phone. Another Bettie, beers do their clink thing and I can no longer make eye contact. I am surrounded by the smiling faces of my friends but it’s their ‘it’s ok’ eyes I avoid. Stupid phone!
Then finally I get the call…GORE GORE ROLLER GIRL. Now that the last of the five got the call, we all burst the awkward bubble with shrieking and cheering and scare the other patrons who made the wrong choice for a quiet night.
We cannot stand still. Jumping and giggling, of the variety that can only be found following incredible tension, takes control of our bodies and then the trash talking starts! We can almost see how our new teams will fashion our skills and help make us the particular roller girl we are going to be. The only problem is, our levels of comfort and adrenaline are so high, we have no problems letting each other know how we intend to use our skills.
Next on the agenda is the keg party to meet our teams. The beer is spiked with excitement. All the teams are convinced that they have the winning combination. I look around and believe everyone. ToRD 2010 is going to be off the hook and I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.
Shera Venge
2010 Gore Gore Rollergirl
(ToRD’s 2010 draft happened this past weekend – stay tuned for updated team rosters!)
tord, news, 2010
