The first several times I did scrimmage drills, I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Where was their jammer? Our jammer? Where was I supposed to be? Why was I always on the ground and why were there so many people everywhere and oh God I was definitely going to be eaten by wolves get up get up get up!
I’m pretty sure our coaches were doing this, internally.
Red Cabin (BEST CABIN) scrimmaged three times on Monday. The first time, I got no penalties, and didn’t really do anything. Rumble pointed out that she’d rather see us DO something and make a mistake than be so cautious, so I showed more initiative after that. I got three majors, so, y’know, room for improvement, but I did stuff! *fistpump*
Especially in the last two jams, I noticed that things “clicked” better. When the jammer was coming around, I knew where she was. When our walls fell apart, I could see where I needed to go to put them back together. Was I always able to do anything useful with these observations? Nah. But just being able to make them is progress, and I’ll take it.
When I came out of one of the jams, one of the coaches (I think it was Full Nelson) asked me if I’d had fun. There being a clear Right Answer to that question, I offered a hesitant, “Yes?”
I lied, and I didn’t.
I lied in that I didn’t have fun, exactly. I’m not good at “fun”. I’m too intense, too AAH MOTHALAND
!, too afraid of letting my team down. I’m unreliable enough when I’m concentrating; if I start having fun
, who knows what might happen?
Which one of you blockers put my calculator in Jell-O? B3? B2? Dammit, Pivot, I know it was you!
I didn’t lie in that for me, concentrating on derby is… dare I say it… fun? Or my version of it, at least? I love the challenge. When our last scrimmage ended, my reaction was, “NOOO we’re just finding our groove we have to keep playing!” I had that reaction despite being utterly physically wiped: it just didn’t matter. My heart wasn’t done yet.
I jammed twice. The first time, I never got through the pack. I fought, but I couldn’t find the “friendly side”. Derp.
The second time, I went to the box on a low block major, which I got from the floor (LIKE A BOSS). I was released at the start of the next jam and, thanks to having the best blockers evar, made an initial pass and completed a scoring pass. I didn’t realize that, though, so when I got back to the bench, Full Nelson was all, “Nice job!”, and I was all, “Eh,” and she was all, “You got all five points!”, and I was all,
On Monday night, I had a dream that I was jamming. When I jam in my dreams, I’m all *jazz hands*
BIFF! POW! ZOINKS!
Sadly, real life looks more like this:
I’m pretty sure this is not what they meant when they sung, “We all need somebody to lean on.”
Except the cushions are blockers, and unlike the cat, I do not remain vertical. I’ma work on that.