The Hunt For Stripes Begins

So Portsmouth is still in the grip of a blizzard, giving the more work shy yet another reason to skive off work and were my own work place is concerned only adding to my daily personal hell I call the working week, listening to moronic customers complaining about their TV not working, or the fact that they have no broadband, which in the grand scheme of things really isn’t overly that important. Still it's not that you could tell this from the stream of expletives that I usually find myself on the receiving end of on a daily basis, but then I’m sure you could take any group of people involved in this sport and they would be able to regale you with their own similar tales of their daily mundane work lives, but then this is what makes Derby such a great sport, for no matter how crappy a week you have had, you can pretty much guarantee that by the end of a good derby training session you will be feeling a whole lot better, but then again this is no doubt the reasons that so many players refer to it as being their “Therapy”.

The other downside to this sodding snow is how like the rain, it prevents any additional training being done, making the Sunday training sessions only all the more important especially when it’s still such a daunting list of basic skills that are still to be mastered, with this almost obsessional need to cram in further training, leading to me spending the morning running around the garden attacking the snow with my wife’s hairdryer while shouting “Die you bastard snow!”.

Sunday's training session marked the final training session of this years derby season, which was made a little more special than usual, with the local paper showing up to do another article on the team, which i'm sure once it gets published I will get transcribed onto here for anyone who is intrested, especially as I’m real curious to know what they think about not only the team, but the sport on a whole, for although it is steadily becoming more recognised as a sport, rather than it's misguided public idea, of it basically being an excuse for folks to strap on a pair of quads and beat the snot out of each other, an image which is changing along with public opinion, especially as derby continues to grow and evolve with each passing year, though I do wonder if the sport will ever become mainstream, especially when it was such mainstreaming which lead to the decline of the sport in the first place and it’s truly the punk DIY aspect of the sport, which continues to help the sport grow, rather than sponsorship deals and fake celebrity status’s overshadowing proceedings.

Meanwhile as I continue in my attempts to learn the rules, which is getting there slowly, while occasionally throwing out fun interesting facts, in particular this rule.

9.4.2 Referees must be uniformed in a manner that makes them easily identifiable as the officials for the bout, e.g. a black and white striped shirt.

So according to this rule, it means that the ref pack can wear pretty much what they want, as long as they are all wearing the same thing to indentify their position, despite this fact the majority of ref’s tend to favour the traditional zebra stripes, rather than something slightly more erm….shall we say exotic, which this ruling leaves pretty open to personal interpretation. These traditional stripes not only make it a lot easier to keep a uniformed pack, especially when importing ref’s from other teams to cover the bouts, which is certainly something that we may end up having to do, when the team does become bout ready. In the meantime before I get too far ahead of myself, I still have to pass not only minimum skills, but also a ref exam as well which is reallyall the more daunting, especially when I look at the sheer amount of revision I still have ahead of me, which is something I wasn’t expecting to become such an epic task, much like finding my own set of strips, for as tempting as the Ann Summers outfit that Michelle had recommended, I really didn’t think I could pull it off, which I sure was a cause of much mass relief for the wenches and anyone potentially considering attending any of our future bouts.

Still it would seem that finding a set of ref stripes here in the UK is far from the easiest thing, with the usual sources like “Amazon” and “Ebay”, all drawing a frustrating blank, so now it currently looks like I will be having to import my shirts, despite some unique ideas from “Zebra Huddle”, which again only highlights how DIY the derby community can be, with stories of finding discarded “Foot Locker” uniforms to one ref spray painting his own stripes, achieving an effect described a “Distressed”, though short of mugging “Foot Locker” employees I think that importing shirts will still be my best option, though seeing how the majority of stores will also do the back plate I can also see it saving on another big headache when it came to sorting that out, much like trying to find skates for my darn hobbit feet, but then no one said this was going to be easy.

Movie Review: Whip It

While the majority of this blog, will be devoted to my ongoing Roller Derby misadventures, I still want to take the occasional diversion into various offshoot, the first of which I present here, which has been largely carried across from the original review I did over on my cult cinema blog "From The Depths of DVD Hell", as I was happy with the opinion I had after my first viewing and have now added a few changes, with things I noticed after giving it a second viewing, especially after my original thoughts on the film were so enthusiastically opposed by certain members of the "Roller Wenches".

Title: Whip It

Director: Drew Barrymore

Released: 2009

Staring: Ellen Page, Marica Gay Harden, Kristen Wiig, Drew Barrymore, Juliette Lewis, Jimmy Fallon, Eve, Zoe Bell, Andrew Wilson, Alia Shawkat, Landon Pigg

Rating: 2 / 5

Plot: Regular beauty pageant contestant Bliss (Page) is tired of her small town Texas life, especially being continually forced to compete in pageants by her mother (Harden). After discovering roller derby, she suddenly finds a new lust for life, as she begins skating for local derby team “The Hurl Scouts” under her new identity Babe Ruthless.

Review: Ever since Ellen Page pulled the indie double whammy of “Hard Candy” (2005) and “Juno” (2007) she has been an actress whose films I tend to look forward to and this film was no different, especially seeing how it seemed from the trailer to combine the wit of Juno with the brutality and excitement of roller derby, which was also another big draw for this film, being a big fan of Roller Derby, despite the severe lack of derby teams that we have over here in the UK, especially when compared to the US..... but then who doesn’t like the idea of hot punk chicks on skates?!?

The other plus this film had going for it, definitely has to be the involvement of former derby skater Shauna Cross, who wrote the original novel based on her experiences on the derby circuit, while also adapting it into the screenplay here, bringing a certain level of authenticity to the script, which is appreciated especially seeing how sports movies are notoriously tricky creatures, with the main failings often coming from the inability to replicate the same feelings and emotions associated with the sport in focus, especially to those who are new to the sport in question.

Sadly despite these two pluses, this is a film which falls seriously flat, proving to be a crushing disappointment, which I found even more so being a derby fan, especially as I was especially looking forward to finally getting to a great derby movie which this film really isn’t.

The themes of rebelling against the norm and breaking out, are certainly an obvious choice for the directorial debut of the former wild child Barrymore, though without a director with a firm grip on her reigns, she is here free to be as kooky and oddball as she wants, ultimatly meaning (as much as this pains me) that she is responsible for providing one of the most irritating characters in the film “Smashley Simpson”, spending every moment she is on screen, mumbling unintelligible dialogue and overacting pretty much every scene she appears in, thankfully her appearances are kept to a minimum. Still other supporting members of the cast fair a lot better such as stunt woman turned actress Zoe Bell turning up as “Bloody Holly” and giving another great laid back performance, which while it’s true might not be much of a stretch from her acting debut in “Death Proof” (2007), it doesn’t at the same time leaving her standing out, much like the brief but fun cameo by Har Mar Superstar, who shows up as the coach of the “Fight Attendants”, which can also be said of Jimmy Fallon’s role as the loud mouth announcer Johnny “Hot Tub” Rocket”, providing his various random insights as part of his role of sole commentry of each match.

The most noteworthy performance here though is courtesy of Juliette Lewis as “Iron Maven” who takes a special dislike to Bliss, seeing her as a threat to her top spot status and Lewis clearly relishes taking on one of the few meaty roles on offer, as she manages to be both brutal on the track, as she is with her bitchy words of the track.

Sadly Ellen Page despite still giving a good performance and remaining an actress to watch, here comes across bored, as she almost shuffles through her lines despite the trailer coming across like Juno on wheels, “Whip it” is sadly a far cry from the witty observations of Diablo Cody’s Oscar winning script and in a way it appears that the script is perhaps trying too hard to corner the indie youth market, by giving us an alternative rom-com, which is an area that it especially fails hard in, with the love interest, Skinny indie kid in a band Oliver (Pigg) provides almost as many grating moments as Barrymore, as I found myself having to endure the supposedly hip dialogue between Bliss and Oliver, which comes off more stale than anything resembling memorable, with Pigg having all the appeal of a squashed frog and with almost zero chemistry between either Page or Pigg, meaning that your listening to Bliss pining after him, but from Page’s performance, you get more the feeling that she really doesn’t care, which could almost be summed up by the limp wristed slap to the face, she dishes out after discovering Oliver’s cheating ways, while at the same time working against the tough girl image she’s been developing since joining the Hurl Scouts, seeing her standing up to the same preppy girls who are seen tormenting her at the start of this film and by the time this limp wristed slap is dished out, it kind of left me thinking why bother? I mean I would have much preferred she punch him out, or at least give it some gusto, than such a weak excuse for a slap.

Soundtrack wise it is a pretty sad state of affairs with the majority of the soundtrack, made up of dreary sounding indie tunes, with the few standout tracks, all being well known tracks by established bands like Radiohead, MGMT and The Breeders and these soundtrack choices, kind of came of a surprise seeing how grounded in the roots of punk rock the derby scene is, I was expecting more of a punk soundtrack than laidback indie, which really doesn’t work and feels like another attempt to be hip, much like the frequent references to Austin resident Daniel Johnson which pop up in the film, rather than providing anything resembling a suitable soundtrack, making the experience feel largely like your watching the film with the radio on at the same time.

“Whip it” is a film which sorely disappointed me, especially having all the build up as being something fun and different, but sadly beneath all it’s wannabe indie cool and stick on tattoos, it is just a pretty simple by the numbers coming of age flick, with a slightly interesting angle, provided by being set in the world of Roller Derby, which is sadly under used with Barrymore more keen to focus on the world outside of the derby ring, than the battles fought on the track, but lacks the sharpness in it’s script to hold the attention, especially when such a large chunk is especially being dedicated to a relationship with a thoroughly unlikeable character, making in turn parts of this film hard to sit though and certainly had me wishing for the power to just cut these scenes completely. I guess in conclusion that the wait for the great derby movie continues, as this really isn’t it, despite what it might seem on the surface.

How To Seriously Screw Up A Superman Slide

As I sit here to scrawl down this latest entry, Portsmouth is currently covered in a very Christmassy looking blanket of snow, which is kind of a rarity around here, especially seeing how we are located next to the sea, which generally ensures that everything gets covered in a thick layer of salt, meaning as a result of this that most snow rarely settles let alone falls here, so it’s nice to actually have some proper snow weather for a change. The downside to this situation though is the chaos that even the slightest hint of snow causes, with everything generally grinding to a halt, while the majority of staff at my work, generally using it as an excuse not to show up, while some of the slightly more dramatic members of the local public are no doubt at this moment in time, rambling to themselves about how we have angered the snow gods and no doubt dancing naked, in an attempt to bring back the sun or perhaps that's just a Cornish thing.

Okay now I have finished scaring your fragile little minds, with those shudder inducing images of naked hippy folks dancing, I think it’s safe to say that To find yourself in some degree of pain, the day after a hard derby practice, is something I find to be usually pretty normal, especially for someone as non-athletic as myself, whose daily exercise routine mainly consists of the walk to work and occasional run when I’m trying to make the ferry before I sails off. So after the first training session with the wenches, I could safely say that I was feeling it, especially seeing how everything bar my left arm hurt, thanks a combination of stiff muscle and general bruising from the numerous slams I tend to rack up over the course of a typical session. Still trying to figure out which pain was being caused by what is usually more difficult, as I get to spend the following days hobbling around like an old timer, with the overall condition not overly helped by having a job which requires me to sit at a desk for 8 – 10 hours a day, only further adding to the pains with the general daily joint pains. Still their training though intense was still a blast to do, while proving a great outlet for all the stress of having to deal with stupid people, moaning about about the latest failing of the engineers at work or our service in general.

Still this week I managed to add a whole new pain to the list, gained after running through “Superman Slide” drills. The Superman Slide is the more suicidal looking of the derby slides, involving the skater putting their faith wholly into their pads, by falling forward onto your knees then your elbows in a motion non to dissimilar to throwing yourself at the ground. It was while running through the first batch of these which triggered a sharp pain, almost comparable to a kick to the nuts, though perhaps not as lingering, occurring in the lower gut muscle / mass (please excuse my lack of fancy medical terminology), which of course I followed up with probably the least sensible course of action, by doing the same drill again, which surprisingly enough was once again followed by similar pain.

Whatever I have done has pretty much killed off any attempt to do anything, which requires the tensing of that particular area, which is actually a surprisingly large amount of things, for such a random area to injure, especially when I think about how I did it, which makes even less sense, much less the fact that I have manage to do something that has even confounded the vast (and occasionally questionable) medical knowledge of Google, which despite managing to real off a vast list of potential injuries, some of which I’m not sure are possible with the male anatomy, I had to resign to just labelling it a strained muscle and just get one with the best course of treatment for such things and to basically just suck it up and get on with things instead of acting like some big girls blouse, though the thing which honestly sucks the most is the lack of any bruising / hideous looking injury to show for it, so nothing to show for it here and I’m sure you’ll all appreciate not having to see a picture of my gut.

Okay outside of my various attempts to incapacitate myself this week, there was a focus this week on our starts, including the jammer start, which involves the extensive use of your toe stops as you aim to walk on your stops, digging them into the track as you move with a stilt like running motion, before dropping onto your skates in a graceful flow and not look like a your attempting to breaking out into some weird form of interpretive dance. Personally I’ve yet to break in the toe stops on my own skates, mainly due to currently lacking the required technique needed, for a successful toe stop, with previous attempts having worked to stop me, but only to quickly follow with a heavy slam, but if your not slamming your not learning right?

On the ref side of things the wenches now officially have two ref’s in training with both myself and my fellow David Lynch fan Michelle (a.k.a: Ic Hell) heeding the call of the striped shirt, which honestly is great, as it now means there are at least two of us, trying to make sense of the mountains of rules, which currently I have broken up into various sections and stuck up around the areas of the house where I’m likely to constantly see them, like the back of the bathroom door and the front of the fridge, with this tactic hopefully helping to drum them in, with the theory working on the principle of that if I see them often enough, that there is more a chance of them sticking. Still it will be interesting to see how this method works out….now if only there was a way of transferring this method to my skating technique.

The Story So Far....

So were to start? Well as always I guess the best place would naturally be at the beginning, for Roller Derby has always held a special place in my heart, even if in the early days of this love affair with the sport, it wasn’t exactly the easiest of sports to follow, having seen my first bout while working in New York, were I was at the time working as a camp counciler (read. Glorfied Babysitter) for a bunch of spoilt rich kids. From this first bout I soon found myself hooked with this obsession only grew while living in Birmingham, were the “Birmingham Blitz Dames” would soon become my team of choice to follow, pulling in countless favours and good Karma points with my boss at work, so I could make it to their bouts. However when I moved to Gosport, to move in with my gorgeous Wife Lily, I had to sadly sacrifice my evenings of derby carnage, only to eventually lear of a new team being formed down here in this costal town, which was honestly the last place I was expecting to find a team, let alone that a Male team was being formed aswell, a team whom would become “The Portsmouth Scurvy Dogs”. I was psyched to actually be part of a derby team, especially having been lead to believe that it was only the girls who could derby, so the prospect of getting into some derby was exilerating, despite the fact that my skating ability was less than non existent. Still I jumped at this chance to join the team, quickly blowing my hard earned commission cheque to get my start up gear together, while attempting to learn how to skate on my newly purchased set of quads, which would lead to a large amount of falling over and carving myself up on the concrete quad, which we were using for practice, while at the same time working on creating my derby alter ego, which after countless failed attempts and a whole bunch of crossed out ideas on the fridge white board, I finally came up with my derby name “Rudyard Crippling”, even though it seemed that the only person that was being crippled was myself, but the name stuck and it’s a name which I have now carried across as a Ref.

Sadly this team would be short lived, thanks to lack of interest and so the team was put on hold while we worked out a new recruitment plan, though it was around this time that our Derby Sisters who make up the mighty “Portsmouth Roller Wenches” whom had been going from strength to strength since their creation, began spreading the word that they were looking for Ref’s and while this might not have been my first choice, I was already too hooked from the few skate sessions I’d had with the Scurvy Dogs to walk away, so I approached the Wenches with the idea of signing up as one of their ref’s, after all this seemed like the best arrangement for not only me, but their team aswell as out of their arrangement they would get themselves a ref in training and I’d still get to be involved in the derby world, aswell as getting some use out of my gear, which other wise seemed doomed to gather dust in the wardrobe.

So now I’m a ref in training, working towards earning my stripes and attempting to memorise the numerous rules which, despite the chaotic carnage which might erupt on the track, is actually very strictly governed with rules it seems to cover nearly every occurrence and while it might not have been the original intention, I’m still having a blast while working towards earning a set of stripes to call my own, while generally loving every crazy and frenzied moment of my derby training once again.