Needless to say, my skepticism waned immediately upon arrival, and disappeared altogether by the second quarter. I won’t pretend to be an expert on the rules, but it breaks down something like this:

The fast skaters, called Jammers, have to lap the pack, without going out of bounds or falling or knocking anyone over. That scores some points. There are fouls, a penalty box and all the rest of it as well. The serve beer, pizza, pretzels, and have a full bar – as well as rum-laced smoothies. Yes, the promoter’s knew their audience well. My girlfriend said to me “This seems like a sport pervs would do to. You know, like all female mud wrestling.”

Pervs? Yes, I suppose, the prospect of fast moving women in tank tops and skirts with too much eye make-up and nick-names like Clara Path and Kaiser Suze could perhaps evoke an element of eroticism. Moreover, the reputation Roller Derby girls have for being foul mouthed and tough as nails does little to assuage the fears of those of us with more delicate sensibilities. But, then again, are they that different than male athletes, ranting and roaring about their prowess and supremacy?

In fact, there was something altogether missing from the pomp and pride that most athletic teams demonstrate when vying for whatever prize they deem worthy that week. There was very little trash talking, no confrontations with other players, and a startling lack of swearing. Yes, overall, it was a rather wholesome event. I was four beers into the event when we left, and loved every minute of it.

On my way out, I found myself saying “Man, we should start our own team! We could go all the way to nationals! We could write the sports movie – you know the underdog, ragtag (insert sport) team, brought together by a washed up loser, struggling to make a comeback/impress a girl/end his career on a high note/stay employed ‘til next season.”

My girl friend, bless her, just nodded her head. I went on, “Yeah, the Sports Movie goes alternative. Maybe we can have like, Tony Hawke’s wife be the coach, And he can do a cameo. But first we need to decide… is this Roller Derby meets Bad News Bears or Roller Derby meets Field of Dreams/Friday Night Lights?”

Yes, the future was indeed, wide open, as we left the arena parking lot, she driving and me rambling away, dreaming about a return to the day when sports movies numbered in the mere dozens instead of thousands. Dreaming of a day when something as formulaic as a sports movie didn’t stand a chance at an award…