savana

We boarded the bus at 4:30am on Sat. The bus is the a-typical public transit on the outside.... the kind the you can find when your hitching a ride on teh Geary bus in San Francisco. Tow buses combined by an accordian looking middle. It boasted a NY tag on the outside and an Alabama plate, but I think before it found it's final home as a party barge had been happily carrying folks to and from there destinations in Seattle. The inside was equipped with bunk beds, futons spread out to easily sleep as many as you'd dared pile in, 2 couches, a table, DJ turntables and a sound system that couldn't be beat. These photos do it no justice:



OUr first stop was in Paso Robles, for me.. the only time I've ever been to that town was when Paso hosts there annual bad ass car show. Granted this time, was visit was a bit different. We pulled into a Denny's parking lot at the ripe hour of 8am. Denny's had no idea what hit them. All the sudden the door to the resturant was yanked open and 15 rollergirls ran in and headed straight to the bathroom. Not even a second glance backwards to the startled hostess..... mad dash, derby girls on mission. Afterwards, we all piled back on the bus and hung around for bit... alternating between random gossip and strategy. We had no idea what the night held for us, we'd never seen the OC rollergirls bout and knew very little about the other leagues that were competing. Nor had we'd ever been a part of real bout yet. We'd only played against each other, and had one scrimmage against the She-Evil dead girls under our belts. We were heading straight into the unknown. So admist strategy conversations and bits of gossip here and there, we filled up on the average road trip snacks. Finally every one drifted back off to there respective areas to sleep and wonder more about what was in store for us. Finally we hear the call that were in Ventura. As we pull into the fairgrounds we see this first sign :

Poultry Show
Roller Derby
Haunted House
Kids Sale

Interesting, Right. We thought so too. As we follow the signs to our litle area, we're greeted with this last sign:
Poultry Show
Roller Derby
>>>>>>>>>> this way

Even better. So as we gather our Baby Blue uniforms, and head off to the bathroom to get ready... we realize that we're a baby blue group admist the hardcore others bosting uniforms with bold colors such as Red & Black, Black & Orange, Grey & Black and so on. Nothing strikes fear in an opposing league like the baby blue threat that we might bake them a cake. hahah.. All joking aside we ended up loving that fact that our uniforms set us apart from the group. Nothing shouts "step up your game" like wearing non scary colors.

But I'm jumping ahead... back to the poultry show... here's what it looks like when baby blue derby girls meet up with the Poultry Show:



For the record... you should know, people that are into chickens (enough to host a show) don't get off on Cock jokes.

Just for fun, here's a chicken:



Anyway... he game was beyond the most exciting thing I've ever experienced in my entire life. I've never felt so fullfilled by any sport in my life. Whatever happens on the track, stays on the track... and Derby has a commarderie that you'll never experience anywhere else. It takes a special kind of girl to get into derby. You have to want it. You have to suck it up when you get knocked to kingdom come, and it takes balls to get in there and face girls that are 5 times your size and 500 x's more fierce. Whatever you may think about derby... you should know- that's its real. Derby hurts.. and it's the only thing in this world that can shove your ego down your throat, knock you flat on your ass and leave you black & blue and still... keeps you geting back up and going for it again and again. You can only really understand how it takes over your life, by being a part of it. There's no grey area in this sport, you either do it, or you don't. It's amazing. Anyway, there were two tracks side by side, the spector area with rows after rows of chairs and bleachers, the famous "suicide line" or the "blue line" which is where the die hard fans sit. Since by sitting in this area, you've not only got the best seats in the house(by beaing right up on the track) but half the time you'll end up being a part of the game and most likely, will end up with a fishnet clad rollergirl flung into lap (at best) or at worst, you'll end getting your nose broke by a wayward skate. Our girls were flying everywhere, our jammer got knocked off the track and actually into us (instead of sitting in the middle of the track as usual, all teams were postioned just off to the side) Our chairs were positoned right in front of thestange, and to the right of an open door leading to the parking lot as well as right next to the penatly box, annoucers table and raised speakers. Needless to say, we pretty much touched just about everything with in reach. One of our girls to a solid check right on the turn and was sent flying out the open doors, open to hop back up from her collision with the parking lot and skate right back into the game. Another girl was sent skidding out of control right into the speaker, as we all held our breath watiing for the speaker to tumble down ontop of her. It was beautiful. All of it. The violence, the skiil level, the danger. Punk rock poetry in motion. Every league that competed was filled with talent, and god it was a gorgeous site. There's more to tell, but I'm hoping soon the the videos will start to show up, and I know that Savage Magazine shot quite a few team photos, as well as a few individual shots. They called me back up to the set to shoot me solo, and I hope it turned out good. Me and the camera aren't always on the best of terms so *fingers crossed* here's to hoping it turned out good. I'm not sure if it'll be in the Nov issue or the following issue... so keep an eye out. Other then that, it was off to the afterparty, where exhaustion and cocktails took our girls down one by one. The next morning was a series of coffee stops, lunch stops and pee stops. We finally rolled back into Santa Cruz late on Sunday. Monday brought on a weird feeling of the blues that I can only think is related to the "come down" of having such a high-high from the weekend. It's hard to go from being Savana Slamher all weekend to just plain old boring me. I wonder if this is how batman feels when his saving the world duties are all done for the day, and he's got to hang up his super suit and wander back into the hum drum of real life. Sigh. It's the greatest thing that's ever happened in my life in terms of forcing me to face fear and self doubt and rise above all of it to be a solid working part of a fantastic team and an even more amazing scene. That's all I got for now, I wish I had more photos but I didn't lug my camera around all night, so I've gots whats I's gots. Love ya.