I always go into bouts figuring we will lose. I think it's so I'm not horrifically disappointed if it happens. (That probably explains why I am so negative in general - if you always expect the worst to happen, you can never be disappointed. Well, you *can*, but it's a different kind of disappointment. ANYWAY...)
Our team got together the night before for food, bout-watching (we had the last game on DVD) and merch making (pins for our team). Bout night will be a doubleheader; our team first, and then the A team playing. One of the members of the team playing against our A team has an airborne peanut allergy; we contemplate eating lots of peanut butter before hand, to help the league, but do not.
BOUT DAY! I still had some Sharpie markings on my jersey from the last bout, so I got some Shout Spray Stick, applied it and sent it through the wash. Cut to twenty minutes later, when there are these BIZARRE BIG BROWN STAINS ON THE FRONT OF MY JERSEY. ("ohmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap...") Fortunately some Dr. Bronner's soap took them out and I am okay.
So we all show up in the 96 degree weather with like 86 degree dew point and crappy air conditioning. WHEE! Our captain (whom I shall call Captain Flashback, as she is a phys ed instructor* and I get flashbacks to junior high gym class during practices) planned for us to do an off-skates warmup a few hours beforehand. I tried to weasel my way out of it ("I....I promised to help do set-up for the bout!") but eventually I acquiesced and did it.
So the other team shows up. There's one skater who is, like, just a big pile of muscles in pink Spandex and roller skates. Whee!
So it gets warmer, our bench chick rolls frozen water bottles on our necks and backs (which helped SO much). One of my leaguemates on the A team gets proposed to by her boyfriend, in the middle of the track. She says yes, everyone gets crazy happy.
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd.................off we go!
We're crazy and scattershot at first. They take a quick lead. We catch up. They catch up. We bust up walls. They squeak past us. They put up walls. We squeak past them. I get a Direction of Game Play minor.** We have new guy in the league blowing the start of jam whistle; I tell him at one point he should probably put the whistle in his mouth between his "five seconds!" call out and the start of the jam. The head ref mouths "thank you" to me. We catch up. Pile of Muscles in Spandex does not react to positional blocking well - it frustrates her.
At the half, we're up by about twenty points.
We go out in front, to the (air conditioned bliss) box office. It's not over yet; not by a long shot. I take my contact lens out and promptly lose it. One of my teammates finds it; another teammate lends me contact lens solution.
Second half! They catch up. They lead. We catch up. They tie. I bridge other players. I knock other players out. We yell at crappy calls made by the refs. I apparently hold a jammer back, by myself, for about 3/4 of the track.***
60-60. We get four points, 64-60. They get four points. 64-64.
Back and forth, crazy craziness. We put in a power lineup; our jammer and one blocker get sent to the box. The jammer call was complete bullshit; we scream at the refs. Their jammer cuts in front of multiple players, no one says boo, they rack up more points.
Everyone is going batshit insane. We claw our way back.
LAST JAM. WE ARE DOWN BY TWO POINTS. It all comes down to this. Everyone is freaking the fuck out. Whistle blows, and we're off! Fight fight fight jostle jostle jostle OUR JAMMER GETS LEAD JAM! Jostle jostle jostle keep the other jammer back WHAT?!?!?!?!? THE OTHER JAMMER GOT A PENALTY?!?!?!?!??! SHE HAS TO GO TO THE BOX!?!?!?!?!?!?!? OMFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG OUR JAMMER SKATES AND SKATES AND GETS MORE POINTS AND AS SOON AS THE PERIOD CLOCK RUNS OUT WE SCREAM AT HER TO CALL IT OFF, AND SHE DOES, AND....
I refuse to start cheering until the referees confer and tally points.
Head ref swings his arm around in a big circle.
89-85. We win.
It's at this point I start crying.
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*She was chosen as, like, Middle School Phys Ed Teacher of the Year for the state. (If she teaches for two more years, she'll also be Maverick's PE teacher.)
**This has been happening to me a lot lately. What happens is, the skaters behind me will be going really slow, and I skate backwards to break them up, but I end up still skating backwards when I run into them. It's just a matter of not being patient enough for them to run into me.
***I was told this, afterwards. I don't remember doing it.
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