photo by nearthecoast A good proportion of the audience were male, be they spouses, partners, fathers, friends, well-wishers or just curious onlookers. The crowd had a great buzz to it: you got the feeling it was a real community sport. While the majority of spectators were in the 16-35 demographic, and could loosely be described as ‘alternative’, there were also a number of families present with young children, and it felt incredibly welcoming. There was good banter at the bar, and young women walked around selling American-style donuts for charity. As the teams performed their introductory lap around the track, the commentators announced their noms-de-guerre. A remnant of the sport’s previous incarnation as pseudo-choreographed entertainment, most Rollerderby players assume stage names. Given that these women come from all walks of life, the adoption of a moniker has been explained by some participants as allowing them to become different people on the track. In an interview for BBC Radio 4 last year, one young woman claimed that she would never be able to be so ruthless on the track if she were doing so in her ‘civilian’ persona. Usually humorous, these names add an important element of theatre to the sport, 78
allowing often brutal physical tactics to be performed in an atmosphere almost entirely devoid of the testosterone-fuelled aggression associated with typically male sports. As an avid sports fan, I’ve grown up attending football, rugby and cricket matches with my dad and younger sister. I’ve always enjoyed the different vibes you get with each different sports crowd: leisurely fun at test matches; rowdy but generally good-natured at a rugby match; and the incredibly intense, highly-charged feeling of belonging and tribalism at a premier league football match. Once the Rollerderby match had got started, with each team competing in a different tight-fitting kit complete with decorated helmets, pads and spangly short-shorts, there was clearly an intensely competitive element. The initial shock of watching women ruthlessly slam into one another to stop them overtaking was quite pronounced: the falls were hard, the crowd groaned in sympathy, but I soon realised that it was unlike any other sports match I had watched. These women meant business for sure, but there was no malice, no anger, no nasty sharp edge. Within minutes I was shouting along with the rest of