Recipe for a Derby Bout
OHRG is getting ready to start off our fifth season in just over a month. And that means that the work towards what we call “Bout Production” has already begun. There’s a million little (and big) jobs involved with getting everything ready to welcome our fans, friends and family into a game.
About two months before, we’re getting our online sales set up, printing tickets, ordering flyers and advertising. At 30 days out, we’re doing the administrative paperwork: making sure our insurance is in order, getting our team charters and rosters are submitted to WFTDA and to the other team, making sure the venue is all set for us to come in. We’re making sure merch is ordered or made, getting the programs ready, making sure all our new rookies are properly outfitted with jerseys and uniforms. Referees are getting their crew in order, from the home and visiting leagues, and around our region.
We’re making calls to EMTs to keep us safe on bout day, and getting our new statisticians and non-skating officials — the penalty trackers, scorekeepers, and penalty timers — trained for their critical game-day jobs. We’re thinking about all the upcoming jobs, like manning the merch booth and the ticket table, making sure the visiting league has a hotel and transportation, and getting that all-important afterpart setup.
And then there’s the tape. Seriously, I don’t know if the adhesives industry knows what a cash cow they have in roller derby. There’s several hundred dollars of gaffer tape to hold down the ropes that outline the track and infield. We use caution tape outside the ref lane, and another similiar tape to outline the trackside seating. Then there is thinner tape for the jammer and pivot start lines, the 10 foot track markers, and to outline the penalty boxes. So much tape!
And of course, in tandem with all these jobs and administrative tasks, we’re training. Making practice attendance, making sure all skaters have surpassed the minimum skills required to bout in interleague games, getting everyone ready so that when that first whistle blows, it’s on.
There’s nothing like that feeling of anticipation on bout day. You’ve showed up early to help lay down the track. You’ve had some time to warm up and get your gear in order. And then the doors open and the music starts, and fans start to flow in and stake their claim on spots around the track. Eventually the announcers call out the lineups, and you skate out to take your spot with your team, amidst the noise of the crowd, and the music, and the play-by-play. Sometimes, there’s a brief moment of “what on earth am I doing” that crosses your mind, but inevitably, the whistle blows, the pack takes off, the jammers follow them, and you trust yourself and your teammates to know what to do.
That moment on March 27, folks. That’s what I’m thinking of right now.







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