In Praise of Contact Drills, or, I'm So Happy My Collarbones Hurt Today by Bowen

        As a Roller Derby referee, one needs an exhaustive knowledge of the current rule set, an ability to correctly interpret said rules, and the eye-whistle-hand-mouth coordination to correctly administer said rules while in motion and observing as many as ten other humans, all of whom are also in motion. Professionalism, impartiality, teamwork, and a good sense of humor (that must not be displayed during a game) are also vital to successful officiating, but these last four attributes are not my focus here. My focus is, instead, on the physicality required by this job.
        Referees must be as much as one and a half times as fast as the fastest pack, two-thirds as fast as the fastest jammer while turning more sharply, and able to stop on a dime, double back, and then break into a sprint again. With thirty seconds between jams and no bench rest. While avoiding other officials who are engrossed in their own duties, skaters en route to or from the penalty box, bench staff, and downed or out-of-control skaters and fellow officials. Yet when we tell people that we are "in" Roller Derby, the phrase "I'm just a ref" sometimes slips out. I used to say this, but now I know that there is no "just" in Roller Derby.
        Some referees come to Roller Derby as strong skaters, others are referees during or after their playing career, and that's wonderful. I am of the class of referees who started as Fresh Meat, lacing up skates for the first time at the age of forty one. After passing my Level Two skills assessment, I was loosed upon the world and began attending only scrimmage practices once a week. My skating deteriorated, my confidence evaporated, and my love of Roller Derby dissipated. Something was wrong.
        I miss all of the plays I can't see, and I can't see all of the plays that happen when I'm out of position, and I can't be in position unless I am confident, agile, fast, and stable. The solution, in my case, was a long off-season of attending practice two or three nights a week, and participating in every drill where the coach did not ask me to watch for penalties. I spent cool-down laps, time outs during scrimmage, and water breaks working on transitions, tomahawk stops, and skating backwards (my hat-trick of weaknesses). I threw myself into weaving through pace lines and all-eighting through a hundred laps of quadriceps cramps and shin splints. My skating improved, slowly, to where I started to feel steady and ready. I was able to see so much more game play simply because I could now be in position with far less mental and physical effort.
        All of this gave me the ability to avoid contact and stay upright and in position, but just as important is a familiarity with contact. Sometimes a referee can't avoid contact, either because there is insufficient time and separation to get around an obstacle/human or because the collision comes as a surprise from a direction where the referee isn't looking. Knowing that I can safely take a hit (even a surprise hit) and maintain or regain my assigned position to keep calling the game is as important as knowing how to apply the rules, assign penalties, and award points.
        All of which brings me to last night. The assignment was a one-on-one positional blocking drill. With an odd number of players, coach put me in as a human tackle sled and then mentioned that blocking while skating backwards would be allowed (and even encouraged). I tried blocking backwards, and to my great surprise I could actually do it without maiming myself or my partner. To her apparent surprise, so could my partner. After a water break, the drill continued with me observing and providing feedback on legality and coach working with my former partner to hone and improve her newfound skill.  I was now a better skater than when I came to practice, and although blocking while skating backwards is not a referee skill per se, I should be a better referee for having improved my skating skills, body awareness, and stability. I am grateful for every opportunity to improve the physical aspect of my craft that coach and my leaguemates provide me, and it's why I attend every practice that I can.
        Don't get me wrong. I'm not a frustrated would-be player who "settled" for being a referee. There are multiple men's leagues within a semi-reasonable commute that I could try out for, but I am all-in as an official. Nor do I aspire to be "one of the girls" as that would disrupt the team's internal dynamic and interfere with my focus on constantly improving my refereeing. I participate in non-scrimmage practices in whatever capacity coach and the captains see fit.
        What's my point? Aside from a new appreciation for just how bony and hard one human's shoulder driven into another human's collarbone can be, that is?
        I firmly believe that referees need to be comfortable with the contact that inevitably occurs in this job. The best way to gain this comfort is to be a part of contact drills. It's not about blocking or hitting, really. It's about getting safer when crashy things happen because during a Roller Derby game, things really do gang aft agley. If you have the opportunity to improve this aspect of your craft, take it. If you don't, advocate for it. If you have influence over your league's policy, consider allowing referees to participate in contact drills if currently they can't.
        I don't have the level of skating skills that I would like to have, and hopefully I never will. Hopefully I will always try to get better at my job. Good enough can't be good enough for a referee in Roller Derby. The players put everything they have into becoming competitive athletes, and it does them, the fans, the production staff, and the other officials a tremendous disservice if I don't follow suit.
        Next time I warm up with you before a game, dear reader, feel free to spin me around and try to get by me.