storyimage: 

(MONTREAL) Roller derby is in the throes of a renaissance and women are leading the pack.

Where roller derby of the 1960s and ’70s was a money-making endeavour in the business of entertaining audiences, the modern incarnation teems with a fervent DIY ethic seldom seen in popular sports.

Today, the number of North American women-only leagues is close to 200, with a handful of teams across the pond. Almost all of them are women-run. There are 11 leagues in Canada, a number that is rising. And despite its growing popularity with skaters and audiences alike, it’s almost as if there is an unspoken rule to preserve derby’s DIY ethic and keep women in charge—though there are many male referees and coaches.

Most leagues are not-for-profit organizations. Roller girls pay monthly dues to their leagues, and the profits from bouts go back into leagues to pay for things like travel expenses. In short, no one’s making any money in today’s derby— and they couldn’t be happier.

“It’s pretty empowering for women because it’s run by the skaters, for the skaters. It’s DIY and it’s very successful and popular,” says Alyssa Kwasny, or Georgia W. Tush, the 23- year-old founder and president of Montreal Roller Derby. While most leagues observe the rules set by the Women’s Flat-Track Derby Association (WFTDA), only about 50 of them are members of the organization. Other than the WFTDA, there is no central organization that oversees or controls roller derby leagues. Individual leagues organize tournaments and bouts amongst themselves for the most part, using the network—or, as it’s commonly referred to, a sisterhood—to schedule games, plan conferences like the annual RollerCon extravaganza and even start new leagues.
Roller derby first gained popularity in 1935 under the banner of Transcontinental Roller Derby, a race that simulated the distance between Los Angeles and New York City. Soon, races were happening all over the United States, and it didn’t take founder Leo Seltzer long to realize that audiences loved it when racers crashed into each other while vying for the lead. It quickly took the shape it currently resembles—10 players on an oval track, five from each team, with four blockers and one jammer each. The jammers lap the pack of blockers, and for each opponent they pass, they get a point. However, jammers and blockers are equally insistent—the former on breaking through the pack, and the latter on making sure the jammers can’t pass.

During the ’40s and again throughout the ’70s, roller derby gained popularity across the U.S. where thousands of spectators attended televised games and millions were made. Eventually, roller derby acquired a theatrically vicious reputation—more entertainment than competition—and morphed into a co-ed spectator sport fuelled by gratuitous violence with stars like “Skinny” Minnie Miller and “Banana-Nose” Ann Calvello. Dubbed the meanest mama on skates, Calvello began competing in roller derbies in 1948 and is the only professional athlete whose working career spanned seven decades. She stopped competing in 2000 and bore witness to the latest roller derby revival before her death in 2006.

In 2001, the league that later became the Texas Lonestar Rollergirls set a precedent when it started four women-only roller derby teams. These teams were featured on A&E’s short-lived Rollergirlstelevision show in 2006.

The show didn’t last, but by then the roller derby revival was in full swing. By the end of 2006, there were over 100 leagues in cities across Canada and the U.S.

Despite roller derby’s proven self-reliance, it’s not uncommon for leagues to be approached by businesses promising sponsorship deals at the expense of organizational autonomy. The Montreal league has had several offers but hast refuted every one. “[Businessmen] see how it’s a very marketable sport. They want to almost exploit it, but a lot of people involved have done a good job of protecting it,” Kwasny says.

“People want to come around and own it and control it, but it’s mostly stayed in the control of the skaters.”

And those skaters come from very diverse backgrounds. Some are students, some are professionals and some are stay-at-home parents. All have aliases and some lead double lives on the track. Roofers, lawyers, artists, administrators and social workers—roller derby is truly a mixed bag, and that’s something Montreal’s Zoe Brown, or Die Nasty, is proud of.

A social worker and mother of two who runs the Montreal Underground Film Festival, Brown wasn’t sure what to expect when she enlisted in roller derby. But she breathed a sigh of relief when she found women just like her—jack(ie)s of all trades in all different shapes and sizes.

Whether they wear stiff shirts or miniskirts between the hours of nine and five, the women shed their day-to-day lives on the track, donning short skirts, fishnets and cut-up tees.

“It irritates me because everyone dresses up super-sexy and shows off,” says Brown, “but at the same time, I really enjoy it!”

Brown, who now owns a pair of gold lame booty shorts, believes that “sexy” has been redefined in the realm of roller derby to represent owning one’s own body and being tough, fierce and beautiful—on one’s own terms. Players wear elbow and knee pads, helmets and mouth guards. Says Brown, “It makes you feel hot and makes you want to kick some ass.”

Modern roller girls are notoriously rowdy and the sport can be dangerous. Concussions, cuts and bruises are badges of honour for derby players, albeit painful ones. Frequent tumbles on wood or concrete surfaces while wearing short-shorts and fishnets can produce some very peculiar-looking breeds of rink rash, a sort of skin burn from hitting the floor at high speeds. But while they skate hard, they party harder, an element that has, no doubt, helped popularize the sport.

To those who have criticized the game as phoney baloney entertainment, Brown replies: “People get freaked out when they see girls having fun.”

Photo: Susan Moss

Subscribe to Herizons now for just $27.50 including GST in Canada (4 issues) or purchase a pdf copy of the Spring 2008 edition in which this article first appeared for just $2.50.