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| - Was in town on business, but stayed over to check out south-west roller derby. I bought a VIP ticket, but I'm not sure why, since the half of the auditorium that had been cordoned off was mostly empty. I sat in the back, where the derby girls were tiny specks on the dimly lit track. When I say dim, i mean like 200w lightbulb dim.
The sport itself is a little dull, to be honest, somewhat like goth NASCAR. The periods are way too long, and there feels like there is something missing, a goal/ball element that exists in virtually all team sports. That said, the derby girls did exhibit a serious amount of talent and grit. There were at least a dozen falls that made me grimace, and a serene grace as the jammers floated around the track, their arm extended in delicate counterbalance.
Also, it would be remiss to mention the draw of short skirts, ripped fishnets and tattoos of this subculture, a bastion of an athenian brand of feminism. In a world where feminine beauty inches closer and closer to androgyny, it was undeniably exciting to see full powerful legs, thick arms, heaving chests -- all underscored by an atypical aggression.
Although the sport draws on raw female energies, it is anything but a cathouse. Halftime features the "derby bratz," elementary school skaters who flounder around the track, cheered on by signs, made by their older sisters.
All in all a good time.
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