Stripes as Camouflage

I don’t watch the score while I’m reffing, but based on the noise level from the crowd, either Godzilla was ripping the roof off of the building, or the score was close.  One captain had just called a time-out to stop the clock with three seconds left.  I watch my jammer intently, with only one goal and one thought in my head.  Goal: Call it right.  Thought:  Please do Not let this game rest on a call I make or don’t make.

It’s not a good feeling, making a call that might end up being –the- call.  I’ve spent the 30 seconds between jams hearing a team pump up their jammer with how this one could be The Big Power Jam, then seen the jammer send a blocker sprawling and sent her off, swinging the advantage 180 degrees.  I was comforted by the certainty of that call, knew I was the tool (yeah, pun intended) of Justice rather than the capricious hand of Luck, but still, not fun.

Zebras wear stripes as camouflage in the wild.  When I’m zeebing, I can’t be entirely invisible. (Did anyone get a pic of me jumping waving arms and screaming at the jammer heading to the box?  I’d called a minor on her just as another ref had blown a major right next to me and the skater had thought them one call…..) I do hope to be just a part of the machinery of the game rather than affecting the outcome though.  Keep the game clean, count the points, and have the skaters decide the important stuff via impressive teamwork and dazzling footwork:  Yeah, that’s the ticket!

This time, my fellow jam ref stood up and took the heat.  One way or the other, the bout would be decided on the final jam.  His jammer (who was from the team the guy had travelled with) knew if she got lead she could call it for the victory … so she pushed hard.  Too hard.  MMajor cut, with two capital Ms.  (I didn’t see it, but even That Guy who’d been yelling at us all night just called out - Oh Shoot I think he said? – before the call could get out.  Apparently everybody but me saw that one.)  And my fellow ref called it.  I got to sail around in fast circles doing unremarkable things until the final whistle blew and the joint erupted in home-town Victory.  The other jam ref watched the chaos with a tiny shake of his head.  He’d done it right – but it was going to be a long ride home.  Way to be, Zeeb!

As for my jammer -- it was sure a Major Jam in other senses, but thank you for making it a ‘no major’ jam in Zeeb-World.

...and then there were none.

        The skater barged into the ref changing room after the bout, pushed her face up to the head ref, and ground out “You’ll never work here again!”

        If there hadn’t been so much bad feeling in the statement, I would have laughed.  Her team will never again ask that zeeb to drive several hours, spend three hours setting up their track, then two hours calling the rule set the team wanted to use while getting yelled at and harassed, then another long drive home….for the princely sum of Nada?  Did she expect the head zeeb to be crushed at being deprived of that privilege in the future?

        Enough.  I’ve been deeply involved in derby for a little less than a year now, but I’ve already seen more than half a dozen referees or referees in training turn away from the stripes because they didn’t care to spend their free time helping out other skaters and getting screamed at in return.  And that, good derby peeps, is enough and more than enough. 

        Do referees make mistakes?  Absolutely, in the chaos that is derby it is inevitable.  Do some referees make a lot of mistakes?  I suspect nobody’s very good at it to start with; under-calling in particular is rampant until the ref gets some experience to be more sure of what she’s seeing.  Do referees make as many mistakes as skaters and coaches believe?  As the old Magic 8-Balls would say “Decidedly No”.  I’ve been yelled at and had reviews done over calls the video later supported me on clearly, but THANK YOU there is no instant replay in derby.  

        What then a skater or a coach to do when she’s been wronged?  Yell at ‘em of course; curse the scurvy dogs and may the fleas of a thousand camels infest their armpits!!!!  So how’s that working for us?
        Emotional tension relieved immediately:  Check
        Referee actually changes the call:  Never seen it happen 
        Referee encouraged to watch that more closely in the future:
                a)  Check … but a coach’s talk with the head ref accomplishes the same thing                            without the bad manners and bad karma 
                or b)  No effect, other than the previously mentioned bad karma
                or c)  Ref is of a temperament to resent the attempt to manipulate and actively
                        resists (Yeah, that shouldn’t happen either, but oddly in this world zebras
                        are people – and can the screamer reasonably complain about that?)
        Referee cowed and makes more favorable calls for the Best Screamer’s team for the rest
        of the bout:
                a)  [Most common] Very No. Thick skin is common in the older zebras in the herd. 
                or b)  Yes, but this makes the cowed ref feel bullied (because, well, that’s what it
                        was) and said zeeb never volunteers again.  Congratulations, the screamer
                        just got a few favorable calls, and only had to pay the lifetime services of
                        one official to get them!  Bargain…right???
                or c)  Yes, and the cowed zeeb spends most of the rest of Zeeb Time skating in
                        circles, looking concerned, and calling very little.  Not much better than b)
                or d)   [Rarest breed, thankfully]  Yes, and zeeb becomes a permanent homer,
                        degrading the derby experience for all who come in contact.

        Please people, be nice. Derby is better with good refs – safer, more fair, more fun for everyone.   Unless they have other strong personal motivators, people of the strength of will to make good refs are not going to long tolerate offering a valuable service and getting abuse in return.   When I’m skating a bout, I get the fun of competition and of knocking the heck out of some chick (or being the chick that goes tumbling) and having both of us grin and congratulate each other at the after-party.  We don’t get that while zeebing; and sometimes team members have been so hostile I wasn’t even sure of my welcome if I’d’ve gone to the after-party.  Understand that most of the striped herd is trying hard to call a fair bout; and we’re doing it for the sport and the teams.  Getting well treated in return is not only What’s Right – it’s What’s Necessary to keep a healthy and skilled herd.

Catch of the Day: Coaches

        I just heard that a friend of mine has taken over the coaching of her team.  I’m thrilled for her and for the team!  She knows her derby and knows how to guide people into putting that knowledge to good use on the circuit – but just as importantly, she’s a fair-minded person who treats people with respect.  That is a great catch, as coaches go.
        I’m fortunate that all of the teams I’ve been closely associated with have made very ‘good catches’ as coaches, but there is a wide variety of species swimming through the derby world.  (Please note:  English grammar demands I pick a gender for my pronouns.  Don’t read any more into my choices than that, as each species comes in multiple genders in Nature’s usual way.)
        Perhaps the most distinctive common species is Coach Right.  He’s always right.  About everything. He knows the perfect interpretation of every rule in every situation … in fact, he knows how the rules should have been written in the first place, far better than those losers at WFTDA or MRDA or USARS or whatever.  He instantly deduces the perfect strategy in every situation.  If everyone just followed his advice, the world would be a perfect place.  And how easy it would be to follow his wisdom, because he shares it So Freely!  Anyone who disagrees on any point is clearly a moron.  I guess I should stop writing about him now, since I’m too much of a moron to understand his greatness.
        Maybe you’ve met the character I call Coach Mayor.  She’s named after the Mayor in The Nightmare Before Christmas – you know, the one with two faces?  She must want people to think she’s nice, because she Is very nice to refs, fans, and casual acquaintances.  But…Hello?  Coach, we can hear you screaming insults at your skaters.  And may I point out that yelling “You suck!  You’re useless!  That sucked!” repeatedly is Not useful feedback?  Blockers understand that when they keep seeing the opposing jammer’s backside lap after lap, it sucks.  We’d really appreciate hearing something that would help us Stop it.
        What I don’t get about Coach Mayor how she keeps skaters within shouting distance.  I’d last about half a practice; there is no way I’m spending my free time being belittled and screamed at even if Coach Mayor has the best derby brain in twenty states and can leap a whole pack in a single bound.  Heck, Quadzilla can do that plus be a nice guy and good coach.  Cut the line on this catch and let it keep the hook as you slide it back into the sea; it’s poisonous.
        Fortunately, Coach Bliss seems to be pretty rare.  His full name is Ignorance Iz Bliss.  You can see knowledgeable people are talking to Coach Bliss when they spend half the conversation with their heads cocked to one side like a puzzled dog.  You can almost hear their thought:  “Really??  You think that?”  I heard one of the skaters ask why the other team would scrum start; what’s the point?  Coach Bliss informed her that it was so the jammers could step out of bounds and cut the entire pack without penalty – without a pack there’s no cutting calls!  Ooooooohhhhhhhhh… yah, I didn’t know that.  Really??
        Coach Deerin Headlights doesn’t know much about the game yet either, but she’s usually coaxed into her position by a team member (probably captain) who is effectively coaching herself.  Deerin may end up being a great catch or not, but there’s no harm done either way.  Similarly, the catch may include species that never skated, that speed or hockey or figure skate, that were team stars or marginal bouters; that specialize in challenging or specialize in supporting; that manage every detail or believe in letting the skaters self-manage where possible; that are the face of the team or go forth in camo.  The variety makes for better flavor overall, but you don’t know if you’ve got a keeper or not until you know more about them than that.  Don’t know if you’ve got a keeper?  People, there are lots of very fine fish in this sea.  Most of the coaches I’ve had contact with are, in fact, keepers.  Yeah, judging people by their individual merits….that’s an idea.

It's All in the Angle

        We’re stripping soggy pads off after practice and considering who was getting too generous with elbows in the last drill.  One skater (I’ll call her Boomer in the spirit of changing names to protect the innocent) is reminded that she has no idea why she kept getting called for major forearms in the last bout.  She was hitting clean!
        Oh, I’ve got this one.  I’ve skated with her and I’ve reffed a bout she played, and this one I can explain.  You see, when Boomer hits, the force starts somewhere near her ankles and gets magnified on the way up, exploding into the lucky recipient through Boomer’s shoulder.  It’s a good, hard, clean hit.  But I’ve also noticed (while tumbling sideways to land on the infield) that Boomer’s forearm travels along with me for a bit to see me off.  It’s not really adding any force; it’s just barely touching, so Boomer doesn’t even notice the contact amidst the chaos.
        From the ref lane, what one sees is “Jammer falls over while in contact with forearm of Blocker” (usually with a big grin on Blocker’s face).  Unless the ref is paying particular attention to what part of Blocker is making contact when Jammer begins her trajectory, it looks exceptionally like Forearm, Major.
        The dual perspective, having experienced the hit and having watched the hit with the zebra’s eye, helped me understand what was going on – and now gives Boomer what she needs to know to reduce her one minute vacations.  Rostered skaters and zeebs see the same action from different angles, and each one can inform the other.  Plus, it’s just interesting to see how the other half lives.  In short, it’s worth going out of your way to take a look at derby from the other side of the fence.
        If you’re a rostered skater, take a night and skate a ref’s position during a scrimmage.  C’mon, you know those ribs aren’t going to heal right unless you give them a little time off anyway!  The first time I just watched a bout after beginning to ref, I was amazed at how much easier it was to see the action…….as a spectator.  Apparently that whole thing of watching while skating at high speed backwards and sideways and every which way, mohawking several times a minute, dodging jammers being blocked into your path, shouting and gesticulating to indicate penalties, and having returning miscreants whizzing by to get back to the pack ends up being a bit distracting.  However, each ref position does have a few particular things that ref is situated to see better than anyone else.  Skate them, and understand what the ref’s seeing.
        For refs, it becomes a little more complicated.  Some of us have on-track skills that put most rostered skaters to shame (ok, I’m using ‘us’ loosely there).  Others of us aren’t all amazeballs, but are fine to step into a scrimmage and get the point of view.  Those elbows don’t feel like ‘no impact’ when they’re impacting your ribs; maybe that’s why people are always screaming at you about them.  Some of us don’t bout skate and shouldn’t scrimmage…but it would still be valuable to play in a ‘positional blocking only’ scrimmage, or put on a bright yellow ‘don’t hit me’ shirt and skate in the pack as an inside observer (call it a spy if that gets your juices flowing!).
        It’s a different world, a world that impacts your normal haunts, and it’s right there…why not take a look?  If we were all that fond of staying in our little boxes, we wouldn’t be in derby, right?

[Disclaimer … this post does reveal one of the purposes of this blog; to encourage mutual understanding across the zeeb/skater fence.]

The Wholly Trinity

The Wholly Trinity

        The ninety-pound jammer – maybe her name is Bugsy – rounds the corner and darts toward an opening on the line.  At the last moment the blocker – Wind Shield I think her name is? – steps over to close it. SPLAT!! as Bugsy slams Wind Shield from behind.  I draw in a lungful of air as I bring my whistle up, thinking “That’s a …….” … The whistle drops and lungs soundlessly deflate as I finish the thought.  “…..no impact.”  Wind Shield has a feral grin on her face, but her skates roll right along as if Bugsy was in another state.  “Can’t you SEE that back-block? Really?” screams an indignant voice from the crowd.  I sure did see it (it looked kinda painful for Bugsy in fact), but 2/3 of a foul is not a call.
        Later on in the same bout, I turn from reporting a call to the outside white-board NSO to see a jammer flying sideways in the air and landing heavily.  She’s twenty-five feet in front of the pack and the only skater near her is the opposing pivot, who is turning back to return to the pack as she watches the jammer hop up.  I keep my eyes on the action.  Another shout from the crowd, maybe the same voice, “Are you SERIOUS?  Did nobody see that??”  I feel for the shouter’s frustration – I have a very strong suspicion the pivot just got away with an Out of Play Major --  but I make no call.  I don’t have The Wholly Trinity.
        Initiation.  Action.  Effect.  All I ask, my very first head ref told us, is that if I get questioned on this call you can tell me what was going on when it started, what happened, and what the outcome was.  The Trinity has been preached at every ref briefing I’ve been to since, and I am a confirmed believer.  If you don’t have all three, you don’t make the call.
        I know it means the refs make less calls, and skaters get away with things that madden their opponents.  Yeah, I see that front wall holding on to each other, but the jammer is hunkered down hiding behind them and I can’t see where she is to know she’s being impeded. The jammer complains that they’re linking elbows in the middle of the pack so she can’t get through and I believe her … but I also can’t see it among the shifting horde of bodies.  Good old Bugsy made a major, top quality hit smack on Wind Shield’s backside, and I don’t blame Wind Shield for getting tired of that as it happens again and again over the course of the bout; but as Wind Shield’s rolling along undisturbed, it’s a No Impact back block.  Yes, some players make intentional use of it, knowing what’s hard to see and taking advantage when they’re shielded inside the pack.  One blocker even admitted she scouted the blind spots in a venue with pillars blocking the ref lane’s line of sight and systematically used her elbows just in the blind spots.  All I can do is keep my eyes peeled, and hope I catch enough of those sneaky moves to make the players judge them to be too expensive.  And of course, be glad that if somebody’s going to be that mean-spirited, she’s playing derby against tough women who can stand up for themselves instead of being off kicking helpless puppies somewhere.
        Really though, would we want it any other way?  I remember how indignant it made me when a jammer slammed me from behind (I am a rostered skater on my own team, and ref for others as needs and availability match up) so I plowed into the blocker in front of me.  The opposing blocker and I went down in a heap, the slippery agile jammer danced away, and I got sent to the box for a major back block:  Oh, the injustice of it all! 
        Derby is chaos.  The zeebs are never going to catch it all, and missing potential calls is better than making unjust ones, so long as safety isn’t compromised.  Therefore I remain a disciple of the gospel:  Initiation, Action, and Effect; or no call.