Mascara, Hip Blocks and Booty Shorts: It Must Be Roller Derby

On a recent warm spring night, my friend Brent and I borrowed his wife’s Volkswagen Beetle and ventured out to a warehouse on a dead-end street in South Los Angeles. We were there to watch a “Fresh Meat” or beginner practice for the Angel City Derby Girls. A coach by the name of A-Lotta Backside puts the newbies through their paces.

On a recent warm spring night, my friend Brent and I borrowed his wife’s Volkswagen Beetle and ventured out to a warehouse on a dead-end street in South Los Angeles. We were there to watch a “Fresh Meat” or beginner practice for the Angel City Derby Girls. A coach by the name of A-Lotta Backside puts the newbies through their paces.

Thirteen women and two men, one a ref, or “enforcer” in derby terms with the name “Julius Pleaser” on his helmet, and the other a former ice hockey player of a certain age turned wanna-be derby ref, all skated with grim determination as they circled around and around the track. The noise of the skates on the concrete floor was deafening, and Coach Backside had to shout to be heard. She’s known for demanding one hundred percent, and judging from the level of concentration on the track, everyone was prepared to give her just that, plus whatever extra blood, sweat and tears the Fresh Meat girls could muster. 

The Angel City Derby Girls Fresh Meat practice in their warehouse in South LA. (Photo by Brent Whittlesey)

I used to watch roller derby back in the day when “cable television” meant getting a channel or two from New York and some local access programs in addition to the three network channels from Cleveland. I was never exactly sure what I was watching but I was pretty sure that if my parents saw me watching they wouldn’t be very happy about it. All I knew was that I was seeing some bad-ass girls on skates sporting some sexy-cool costumes while whaling on each other in front of a frenzied crowd, and I knew I really, really liked it.

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