It's been eight long moths since I blew my knee. Eight L--O--N--G months since I have been in my skates. Eight months since I have been watching my team play from the sidelines.
We are one month into our bouting season, and what an amazing month it has been.
We began with our home opener on March 12th. We took on the Quad City Rollers. A familiar rival, who were eager and ready for our challenge on the track. OCCRG played strong, as a team. Focusing on strategical game play. Playing smart. Game one was a victory in many ways.
Game two, just one week later, we faced off against the Unholy Rollers of the Mad Rollin Dolls. A WFTDA team. A new set of challenges. A new caliber. We went in giddy with excitement to have been invited. Excited just to skate and learn from these experienced skaters, most of which have been skating for double the time we have been. The game was intense from the first jam until the last jam. We pulled out a win by a mere 2 points. It was by far and most the most difficult one to be standing on the sidelines for. I wanted to be skating so badly. To be a part of that victory so much. Not even the victory, just the experience of it. Our first WFTDA bout experience. A huge deal as a skater to be a part of something so memorable.
Game three, one week later, we take on the Des Moines Dames, in Des Moines. We were ready. Fired up. Ready to go. We took win number three, after a physically tough game.
Going into April. We are off this weekend. Ready for home bout number two. April 9th we host the Kansas City Roller Warriors - Plan B. This will be our first WFTDA league to host. Also a big milestone.
I am still co coaching the line with Tyna. It's going well. We are very strong together. We communicate with each other well. We read each other. Our strong points and weaknesses balance. It's difficult being behind the line. Always afraid to make the wrong call. Send in the wrong combination. Make a mistake. Which unfortunately, sometimes happens. We are human, it happens. Like in Des Moines when I almost had a jammer call the jam when she wasn't lead. Thankfully for me, she didn't see me telling her to call it. However, I still think about it. Feeling stupid. Like I could have potentially had her sent to the box. Really fucked things up. I feel like a fish out of water behind the bench. I know what I'm doing. I know the game. I understand the game. I know the rules, the mindset. I get it. But I feel like I just don't fit "behind the bench." I feel like a piece of my spirit is gone, left on the track.
I am taking it all in stride. Getting closer to meeting with my surgeon for my last follow up appointment. The follow up appointment that should either clear me to put my skates back on OR tell me that I still need to wait, keep doing more PT on my own. Every time I think about that appointment I get excited. My heart begins to race. I smile from ear to ear thinking of getting into my skates and picking right back up where I left off. Then second later I feel like I am going to vomit. My eyes well with tears. Fear overcomes every inch of my body. What if they say I shouldn't skate. What if they say I am clear and I'm too afraid? What if I fuck up my knee again? What if I get back on my skates and suck so bad no one wants me back on my skates? What if I forgot everything? Everyone else has far surpassed where I was eight L--O--N--G months ago. I'm so behind, it's like I am staring all over again? Will I ever get back where I was? Will I ever be as good as they are now? I'm so scared of what is to come. Then aside from all that. Not everyone in my life is super crazy about the idea of me putting the skates back on. "Sugar Daddy" is supportive. He says he backs me in whatever decision I make. But there are a few that are not at all supportive of it. Which will make it difficult as well.
July 21st, 2010 broke my knee. I will prove it didn't break my spirit. I have to prove that to myself.
2 comments:
It makes me anxious too. Excited to have a body with the spirit I've been skating next to, nervous to lose her again. It's somewhat bittersweet being someone who is/was injured. On the track, you are more cautious. Falling is freakin' scary. I'm still scared. You skate smarter in a sense, you stay away from those more prone to trip over their own feet, closer to those who know how to get out of a widdle ol' wheel lock. You are not going to suck when you return. I'm still going to look for my sugar even if you do (but once again, you will not suck). I love you.
Hey, skaters make mistakes too, just like their bench coaches. And they're just that: Mistakes -- nothing to get worked up over. (Besides, if I had seen you signaling to call the jam off, and I did so without making sure I was lead jammer, I'd say that was mostly my screw up and not yours.)
But Bang is a shining example of how a skater can come back strong from a severe injury. She was out for the better part of a year and I wondered if she would ever make it back... But sure enough she did, and is probably better than she's ever been.
I can't wait for you to get back on the track with us; I still remember when you blocked me during Blood 'n Thunder and the pain radiated from my jaw down to my legs. You'll be a force for sure.
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