The underground sport of women's roller derby is on the rise and these ladies are not afraid of a few bumps and bruises
Michael P. Geffner
From the Print Edition:
Tom Berenger, July/Aug 2007
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By the time it's all over, the Gridlock win going away, 87-69. But as the Bronx players sashay away from the track and down to the lockers with huge smiles and slapping palms, there are a few Bombshells with pursed lips and sideways stares grumbling about illegal hits and conduct unbecoming. Anne Phetamean tries chilling out the uncomfortably steamy air with a gracious comment: "They were scrappy and played real hard." This, of course, is the only way to go at this point—along the high road. Because the bad feelings, the negative vibes, must all end here and now, before these double-lived derby divas dress into their civvies and exit back into the real world again, before things ever end up in front of the conflict-resolution board.
In the religion of women's roller derby of the new millennium, this twisted sisterhood of resurgent Girl Power, the commandment is crystal clear: what happens here stays here. Which means it's time to knock down a few rounds of beer together at the nearest pub.
Michael P. Geffner is an award-winning sports columnist for the Times Herald-Record in upstate New York. His work has also appeared in Details, Penthouse and The Sporting News, and has been acknowledged for excellence by the annual anthology Best American Sports Writing.
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