Whip it Good!

Roller Derby on Foot

Also known as dirt derby. This is what happens when you are camping and want to play derby.

There was also a kickball incident involving full contact plays. Somehow, after you've played roller derby for awhile everything becomes a contact sport. I used to be a fan of full-contact musical chairs until people's faces got broken.

My alter ego

I've never subscribed to the alter ego. I'm me and nothing will change that.

Most press coverage about roller derby is the teacher-by-day-hellion-by-night type crap. And the alter ego is played up heavily with interviews about how a woman creates a derby handle and becomes some sort of crazed, violent, machete-chopping berzerker.

In these interviews, many of the skaters refer to themselves in the third person. "Berzerker Biotch is tough and aggressive and won't take anybody's sh*t, but I am mostly a quiet office worker... Sometimes Bezerker Biotch comes out a work and I'm all 'Oh no he didn't.' " And so on.

Maybe other leagues really are like that, but I don't know anyone in MRD that would say anything remotely close to that word vomit. I'm equally aggressive and berzerking without my handle or helmet. I don't turn into a kitten when the skates come off. My kitteny side is always there, just somewhere underneath the menacing glares.

While ho-humming over USA Today's coverage of roller derby - which should have appeared in the sports section, not lifestyle - I realized that I DO, in fact, have a roller derby alter ego. Or rather roller derby has brought out a side of me I hadn't met.

As a member of the board of directors of Maine Roller Derby, I've found that I am a business woman who tirelessly and passionately works for something I believe in, without pay. I spend most of my days thinking about roller derby, not just how to improve my game or work with my team, but how to culminate the business.

I am driven. I am an athlete. I can separate my love for my friends to make decisions that help grow a business. I love exercising, sweating and pushing myself physically. I excel under stress.

And you know what? These qualities don't just belong to Punchy O'Guts - yes, I just wrote in third person, but only to humor myself - these qualities are part of me. And I don't need a roller derby handle to display them.

The after-after party

MRD is quickly making a reputation for involvement in EPIC after-parties. Just look at this photo of our mascot - Convict 207 - and Daisy Cutter after the Long Island bout on May 3.

I can't go into specifics about that after-party, but I will in regards to the after-party from the Connecticut game.

First there was the bull at the stadium. Riding that plastic(?), legless animal is quite the art. And many cannot and do not succeed. For instance, the first woman I saw attempting the bull on the night of May 17 was grossly intoxicated. So much so that she gave up trying to jump on it and just lied down in the inflated cushion. Her equally drunk, but more energetic friend, jumped around the outskirts of the bull for sometime before she "helped" her friend.

This was at first entertaining, but quickly grew annoying. The man working the bull dragged the almost-passed-out woman out and proceeded to remove the cougar friend who misinterpreted his "help" as a gesture of wanting to be grinded upon. Yes, that disgusting woman rubbed herself all over him and he allowed it for a short time. Well, until I gave him the hairy eyeball and shouted something along the lines of "get that cougar the f&*$ out of here!"

She was removed and several skaters mounted that thing. Check it out:

This is the biggest beer in existence. Supposedly a fancy pitcher for several to share, Greasy found his man-size beer. Apparently, you cannot order more than two - if you're the only one drinking them.

After this ceremonial riding, some of the ladies headed to Bubba's for the Star Wars Dance Party.

The rest of us stayed at the Stadium to party with the Connecticut girls. As the polite and mannerly individual I am, I invited myself to their hotel, where I proceeded to tell tales of how we would have another epic night of partying at their hotel. I interpreted their willingness to share they were staying at the La Quinta and in which room as an approval of my forced invitation.

Leaving the Stadium, we piled into cabs and the cars of designated drivers (I think?!) and headed to the La Quinta. Sugarbush, one of our not-so-Fresh Meat skaters, requested a stop in the Old Port where she needed to pick up her "things."

Her things happened to be a big wheel and a sit-n-spin stashed in the bushes on Free Street.

Ecstatic we had props, we hurried to the hotel to meet with the rest of our motley crew - The Mom Bomb, Dr. Bomb, Wrex Zilla, Scuba, Miss Creant, Greasy O'Guts, Frau Schlaggen, Sugarbush, Nese, Ruth of All Evil, Cruella Intentions and possibly some others.

Luckily the front desk workers was so bored she welcomed us as Sugarbush rode the big wheel through the lobby. We knocked on the door, everything got quiet and nobody answered. YES, WE WERE STOOD UP!! Words cannot describe the hilarity of grown adults peddling a big wheel through the La Quinta.

Unable to handle the rejection, we proceeded to sit-n-spin in the hallways and ride that delightful big wheel through the elevator. This didn't last long as our friend at the front desk was growing weary of our antics.

THE VERY NEXT MORNING.

Always spent at Ruskis, our unofficial official eatery.

Where did the Mom Bomb get this award? Let's just say it's not the MVP...