katfireblade

The question has come up as to why I'm leaving roller derby. Even those people who barely know me knew how much I loved the sport. Its funny, I honestly think almost complete strangers understand how I feel better than I think most of the League did. Its like a disease you cant shake, a wondrous addiction. But I am strong enough, if needs be, to walk away. At least for now.

Thing is, I'm exhausted, burnt out, disillusioned, and just plain stressed. Derby, which once brought me only pleasure every time my skates hit the floor, now only brings me stress. It's no longer about just having fun with the sport, and the League feels less like a family and more like a schoolroom patrolled by tyrannical teachers every day. I used to look forward to derby as the brightness in a world I was finding increasingly dark, a joy that never faded. These days the very thought stresses my last nerve. It really didn't need to be that way.

I've given so much to this sport. I have since January driven out to practice between one and three times a week. Every practice day I do nothing but work, practice, drive, and sleep, and on those days the time and distance I drive from the beginning of the day to the end (work, derby, home) is an equivalent to the time and distance it takes to get from Atlanta, GA to Asheville, NC. Yes, on those days I devote the kind of time just to driving that it generally takes to drive three states. This hasn't changed, no matter where practice has come to be located. My own bad luck to be badly situated, I guess.

So why haven't I asked or offered to share a ride? Well, I have. Repeatedly. And the answer I always have gotten is "cant help ya." If I was coming from Atlanta or Marietta, that might be different, but I get off work in Norcross, and repeated inquiries have gotten me nothing. It seems to be a dead zone. I have been told to catch a ride to my ride, or take Marta to get to them, and they'll pick me up in Doraville/Lawrenceville/Marietta/anywhere else. Good hearted, but not practical, especially now that Marta is single tracking. So the time, the wear and tear on my car and the repairs that has demanded of me, and all the gas money has come from my pocket. Every last cent.

So has pads, helmets, uniforms, accessories, skates, dues, two types of insurance, and assorted other miscellaneous expenses. All of which I have made a herculean effort to meet, even in between jobs, even when my car died, even when I was all but homeless. Derby was always on top of my list, if not for my love of it, then because I made a commitment to my team and the League, and it was one I intended not to break.

As I said in the last post, never, EVER look out for anyone but yourself. It will not be recognized. You will not be thanked. Your best will NEVER be good enough.

I am not the only one feeling stretched thin and worn out, I hear the same complaint from many girls. We have all bent over backwards for this League and its demands, our efforts have been heroic. And yet many of us seem to feel...overlooked. Unappreciated. As if our best simply isn't good enough. There has been no body of girls ready to storm the castle and demand respect, instead the discontented whispers talk of trading out teams, or even flat leaving the League once the Championships are over. Only time will tell how many will actually do more than whisper, but the trend I'm seeing is there is a slow but steady trickle of the girls who helped start the League and loved it best are one by one vanishing. They have a life to get back to, and that's all they'll say. New girls are quickly taking their place, but I wonder how many of them will find their Derby shelf life also ends at approximately one year? Will there be new girls, new teams or revamped old ones on a yearly basis? I truly hope not, but I wonder....

Anyone who has spoken to me more than five minutes of late knows why I'm still in town. They know I came into over a thousand dollars, and with the death of my car and the loss of my home I had two choices--try to stay and make it, or leave the state. Staying required starting over fresh from practically nothing. Leaving meant the same thing, but with one advantage--I would have no bad memories tearing me apart, no gossip nipping at my heels and closing me off from social circles, no regrets dogging me to the point a gun in the mouth seems preferable to anything I might find when I open my eyes in the morning. It was when I truly started looking at that again as a legitimate way out that I realized it was time and past time to leave. I honestly am not being over dramatic when I say it might be the only thing that preserves my life. These last couple years have possibly been the roughest and the darkest I have ever lived through, and even now I still don't know why I didn't die when I had the chance. It wasn't any sense of hope or self preservation, I know that. If it had been, I wouldn't regret so badly not doing it that night, or occasionally try to find ways to do it again. I have to go.

The smart choice was to leave the state, take my money and run. Nothing holds me here now but a job, and I can get another one of those. I thought a long time about my choices, and decided to stay. Most of my decision was based on Lola Lixxx, and her plea that the Team needed me. Probably one of only three people in the entire League that ever said those words to me. That ever made me feel like I was more than just a necessary evil. And she was right, I had made that commitment to my Team, to my League, a promise on my honor to the end of the Championships. It was a promise I intended to keep.

So instead of U-Hauling all my stuff to NC on a one way trip, I took up the expense of renting a storage bin. Instead of buying a plane ticket to the west coast, I searched for a car. I jumped the hoops required for moving, for tags and title and insurance, for setting up a storage bin and shutting down my entire life. I put everything on hold, just to be there. Just because someone told me I was important to all this. Because I was told I was wanted. Because I believed it. Because I made a promise, and on my honor, I keep my promises.

Too bad that person wasn't calling the shots.

I managed a practice or two before I had to move, to get the car, to get the tags, to do everything that needs done to settle into an area. That took my time and my effort, and I was always so tired. Work exhausted me, going from here to NC several weekends in a row exhausted me, having to care for me and my little brother exhausted me, sometimes it seemed I could barely think for being tired all the time. In order to keep my promise to Derby, Derby had to take a back seat to survival. And in the meantime, Derby re instituted the mandatory attendance policy.

They seem to have the idea that somehow magically all of the practice, all the skills and strength, all the hours upon days upon months of learning from January until now will just...vanish. Poof. Like it never was. I can see enforcing on the newbies who still have a long way to go, or even any roller girl obviously lagging behind enough that they seem to be a danger to themselves or the others out on the rink. But some of us hit that floor the best the first time this League ever skated, and they are still kicking ass, and probably would be even if they had never attended a single practice. The rest of us aren't as good, but still, we haven't forgotten a thing. Some skills have become rusty from sheer disuse, but they are skills we also don't use in game. I have rarely, if ever, seen even the best players use them, much less the rest of us. I will not forget eleven months of training through a single missed practice. I will not forget eleven months of training through a missed month of practice. And trying to imply I will devalues me as a player and as an individual, and it was an implication I NEVER enjoyed.

Nor have I enjoyed the idea that I--a 30 year old woman who's been on her own since the age of 17--need to be policed and punished as if I were a recalcitrant kindergardener. Not only DONT I like it, but it pisses me off no end. I'm better than that. Hells, every damned girl in the League is better than that, and deserves better treatment. When I want a mommy again, I'll move back home.

I spoke to my absolutely sports crazy friend, asked him a few things. Like how often professionals practiced. His reply was once to twice a week. That was also what the professional tennis player told Helen Earth when she spoke to her at her job one day. The punchline? The tennis player was practicing for the Olympics. And when told how often we mandatorily had to practice, her reply was; "That's insane!" I also asked him what athletes did just before a game. His reply was professionals who were in peak physical condition probably practiced or had an easy workout. But teams like ours, where all the players weren't in top physical condition normally took care of themselves the day before, but usually didn't do anything that would stress the muscles too much. After all, you have to rely on those muscles the next day.

My new car winds up in the shop and I bend over backwards to make their stupid attendance policy. My brother puts his entire life on hold to drive down from NC just to ferry my ass to work and practice. He has no savings, and mom cant pay for him because she's swamped with bills, so now I'm paying for two. I still juggle those expenses, moving, bills, and derby, and still I find myself barely squeaking by. My brother has no guest bed and stays in my room, so my privacy dissapears. What little mom can do she does, and under the financial burden she almost goes bankrupt. I start feeling I made the wrong decision, but its already been made, so I do the best I can. One way or another, I plan on making that Championship Bout, and being there for my Team. Sleep becomes a thing of the past, if I see bed before 2 am its a miracle, and every morning I'm up at 6 am like clockwork. Work is getting more and more upset with the way my job performance is suffering, and I start to wonder if I can even keep my job for the next two months. My brother drives himself back home sick with the stomach flu, trying to make it back in time for a job interview. But I'm making the mandatory practices.

At the end of it all, I'm in the final week before the bout over $100 overdrawn in my bank account. My finances simply couldn't handle the strain of caring for two, plus all the extra gas costs, plus car repairs, plus tags, plus bills, plus everything else. My car has come back from the mechanic's more damaged than it went in and I'm now scared to drive it. I have no idea how I'm going to pull myself out of this financial hole. But I can breathe. I made it.

Saturday comes with me having no idea there's one more practice. I have never attended a practice before a bout. Ever. I cant keep up with the forum, it scrolls too fast and is too disorganized, to glean any information you have to read everything, just in case even the most frivolous thread turns into something serious. I just simply don't have the time, I hit it when I can. I've been told I should have known about the practice from the mandatory meeting I attended, and I spent all day thinking about that one, how I could have missed it. I must have replayed that meeting in my head a half dozen times before it finally hit me like a ton of bricks--I was one of the last girls to walk into that meeting. I had gotten quite thoroughly lost on the way, and as a result when I walked in it was in full swing. I was also one of the first to complete all the forms and leave--just happenstance, really, I helped the waitress find the missing credit cards, then just had her ring me up since we were both standing right there. I visited the bathroom two or three times because I drank too much. I'm willing to bet all my skate gear that that announcement was done at a point I wasn't physically in the room, most likely either one of the first announcements of the evening, or the last.

It comes down to, I didn't know. It made no sense to me--it still makes no sense to me. I have NEVER walked out of a practice and not heard even seasoned players bitch about being sore. We should be resting up muscles sor from other practices, eating right, taking care of ourselves, not having a full-fledged practice. I see that as flat dangerous, always have, ever since I pushed sore muscles too hard and actually ripped one. I spent the entire next game kissing floor because my leg refused to work right.

So when I found a Saturday free, I did what any impoverished little Derby girl would do--go find a way to make some money to feed my gas tank so I could continue to feed my addiction. Embarrassing as it is to admit things went that long (the reasons are varied and made sense at the time), I was actually having my taxes done. That money back may just save my ass.

I get a call well after 11 am that there is a practice and I must be there. I'm out the door of the tax place and into the car in record time. I really have to pee, but I don't stop. I head straight towards home so I can pee there, grab my gear, and run. I'm over halfway home when I'm called again and told I have to be there by 12 or I don't bout. Its 20 minutes to 12, and the drive out is 35-40 minutes. I don't pee or grab my gear, I turn the car and break every traffic law there is, including speeding by a cop who's thankfully too busy at the moment to be interested in me (they have been pulling people on that highway for almost a week solid now). I shave a good 10 minutes off the drive and walk in to the relieved cries of my Team. I go to sign in--and am waylaid.

Its 12:10. I was supposed to be there by 12 exactly. Because of a 10 minute discrepancy, I'm not allowed to bout.

I have worked my ass off for 11 months. I have put myself financially in the whole, and almost took my family down with me. I have jumped through hoop after hoop just to stay in the area. I have put body and soul on the line for this League time and again for almost a year solid now--and I'm not allowed to bout because of a 10 minute discrepancy.

It sets a bad precedent for the newbies, don'cha know?

Yeah, and dismissing 11 months of love, loyalty, and sacrifice doesn't?

Everything I have done, every time I was bruised or hurt, the weeks I spent in a knee brace, the bruises the size of my forearm, the constant pimping of the League to everyone I know, the calming of nasty rumors, the months and months of financial and physical sacrifice, all dismissed because the mandatory RULE was more important than the PLAYER. More important than me.

It was all dismissed as less important than 10 bloody minutes, but I'm the one setting a bad precedent.

So I quit. On the spot.

If a boyfriend ever treated me that way, he'd be dumped in ten seconds flat. The only reason I tolerate that treatment from a job is because they pay me what I need to survive. At the moment, I cant imagine what Derby gives me. I can skate on my own, and I can do it without feeling like I'm just tolerated, or a necessary evil, like I'm some sort of backwards child, or that I'm somehow irresponsible because I'm trying so hard to struggle my way out of a depression so intense its actually freakin suicidal or that I'm working all hours just to keep head above water and I'm so exhausted I can barely recall my own name that I might be a little distracted and need to be reminded to pay dues on time. I can do it and no longer feel like a "problem," or the square peg in the round hole that just doesn't fit. And whats more, I can have FUN with it again. Like Derby used to be before we forgot that, at the end of the day, this is still just a game.

I'm worth more than a ten minute discrepancy. My worth to my Team, to this League, and to life in general is measured in more than some bullshit mandatory rule. I wont be there tomorrow, but NO ONE can say I didn't do my best. My efforts have been superhuman, and when superhuman isn't enough, then there's nothing else I can do.

I'm finally broken. I give up.

I quit.