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Welcome to the Show
The
Universal Studios theme park rises out of the suburban marshes of Orlando
like an oversized alligator amid a swamp full of piranha. Around it, for
miles and miles, is a dense grid of indistinguishable hotels, mini-plazas,
chain restaurants, and would-be attractions like Skull Kingdom or Mystery
Fun House—all fighting for Universal’s leftovers in a feeding
frenzy of tourist flesh. The streets themselves are void of actual humans,
clogged as they are with rental cars and airport shuttles. It’s an
urban planner’s worst nightmare come to life; the tourists love it.
But
Universal isn’t just the place to ride the Back to the Future
car; it’s actually a working studio. Come in through the employee
entrance and it’s just like all the studio backlots you’ve ever
seen in the movies: rows of warehouse-like soundstages, harried production
assistants zipping around in golf carts, an older security guard at the
gate with a clipboard looking for your name. In the 21,000-square-foot
Stage 21, nine cameras are recording two hours’ worth of brawling,
screaming action–skaters careening into each other at speeds up to
35 mph, flying over railings head over heels, grappling on the polymax
plastic surface like WWF wrestlers.
"Will
you knock her down already?!" screeches an eight-year-old boy in
the stands, kicking the spectator sitting in front of him.
"You
don’t even know what you’re cheering for," his mother says
tiredly.
"Way
to fall there, Stacey!" derides a white-haired gentlemen as California
Quake Stacey Blitsch picks herself up—right before launching herself
at New York Enforcer Chellie Rossell in a hair-pulling cat fight. Scrapping
women are a major draw, just as they were in Roller Derby’s Golden
Age. The fights always overshadow the actual score of the contest, and
raise the question of whether the games are legitimate competitions. Most
people rightly assume they’re little more than tightly-scripted plays,
human cartoons with cartoon violence. And whispered rumors that practice
sessions feature players with scripts in their hands doesn’t exactly
lend the sport an air of authenticity.
"We’re
in the entertainment business, no question. And we do manipulate competition,"
admits Land, who labels RollerJam "sports entertainment."
"But what you see out there on the track is real. There is no way
to choreograph and script everything that goes on out there. It moves
so fast. Our announcers do a lot of spin, and a lot of what we promote
are the rivalries, the friendships, the love affairs, and all that. But
what you see out there is real. We have people with cracked vertebrae,
broken arms, broken nose, blown out MCL, cuts and bruises...Health insurance
was one of our larger line items. It was big. Because it is so dangerous.
A lot of insurance companies just hung up: ‘You want what?’"
Ask
the players, and you’ll hear war stories to rival those from Desert
Storm. "In the second game, I got knocked into the kick rail by one
of the blockers on the other team and my leg was bleeding, and I was bruised
for about three weeks. The other day, I twisted my knee and I was out
for about three days," reports Andrea "Showgirl" Franklin,
a tired-looking Florida Sundog who was a personal trainer and competitive
speed skater before RollerJam.
Sean
Atkinson is one of the few players with strong Derby credentials, having
virtually grown up at the rink. A third-generation skater in a family
of Rolly Derby stars, his mother Dru Scott skated while pregnant with
him for seven months. His grandfather is Buddy Atkinson, Sr., a two-time
Roller Derby Hall of Famer, while his father is multiple All-Star and
MVP Buddy, Jr. He knows the track well.
"It’s
serious," insists Atkinson, who’s much more calm and well-spoken
out of the rink. "Everybody asks if it’s real. Well, I wish
you could come home with me after a game, because I can barely walk–the
aches and pains are there. I don’t want anyone getting seriously
hurt, no—but it is serious. We don’t know the outcomes of the
games."
Some
players profess to enjoy the rough nature of the game, even the supposedly
"clean" skaters on good-guy teams. The Sundogs’ Denise
"The Barracuda" Loden, for instance, not only speedskated but
did nails before joining the Derby ("I made women beautiful, and
now I’m in the business of messin’ them up.") Now she counts
the physical contact as her preferred aspect of the sport.
"For
so long, when I was a speedskater, you would get disqualified if you even
nudged somebody," she says. "And when I started doing this,
it was the total opposite. I mean, you’re allowed to do pretty much
anything within certain limits...to go out there and mess ’em up.
I like that."
And
then there are the rivalries, the most spectacular of which are usually
between team captains such as Atkinson and D’Amato, who seem more
interested in bruising each other than scoring. Among the women players,
one particular point of contention is "The Bod Squad," the trio
of blonde female skaters whom TV Guide recently named among television’s
"16 sexiest stars."
"This
Bod Squad thing I hate the worst, because if you watch them skate, they’re
not that talented," says Loden, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Stacey–she
skates pretty good, but the other two, they don’t skate very good
at all. They do look like they just rolled in off the beach and thought
that they could skate RollerJam. Stacey and I go at it all the time—she
thinks she’s a little better than she is, so I have to put her in
her place." (Since this interview, it should be noted, Loden has
been recostumed with a gold lamé halter top that accentuates her
bust, glittery gold makeup, and a bare midriff.)
The
young, blonde, curvaceous Stacey Blitsch—who often adorns her cheek
with a glittery foil star, like a cheerleader—is the leader of The
Bod Squad and is often the target of antagonism. The former American Gladiators
contender says she’s aware of her fellow players’ dislike–and
that it’s genuine, both on and off the track.
"Some
of them are a little jealous, I think, because we’re out there, we’re
skating good, and people like us," she says. "Some of the other
girls don’t really like me because they think that I hit too hard,
that I’m too rough. But that’s just the way I am. There are
some girls I just can’t stand. And I probably bring it out on the
track with me—I’m the type of person who usually gets revenge.
If someone pisses me off, I’m not going take it, you know? I don’t
take shit from nobody."
Such
displays of violence do sadden Commissioner Seltzer, who even went so
far as to "suspend" the ever-popular Mark D’Amato after
one of his rampages.
"I
think a lot of skaters are trying to make names for themselves,"
he says, perhaps with a wince. "Joan Westin didn’t have to do
a lot of that because when she came into town everybody knew who she was.
The skaters are aware they’re on television, even as Deion Sanders
or Dennis Rodman are. The only thing is, we haven’t gotten them together
with Latrell Sprewell to teach them how to choke their coach."
And
the Critics Respond
It’s
not often that a new television show doesn’t get slammed by at least
a few of the major media outlets. But in the case of RollerJam, its debut
was greeted with almost universal kid gloves—the crustiest, most
cynical critics have been practically wiping away tears of gratitude.
In
a large Dec. 11, 1998 cover story, USA Today mused that the Roller
Derby revival "…might represent a comfort zone, an uncomplicated
refuge from jaded pseudo-sophistication and cyber-cynicism." "A
piece of Americana restored," declared The Hollywood Reporter.
Even America’s sports authority, Sports Illustrated, sent
a Valentine: "Dusted off and spiffed up, the Roller Derby is aiming
to regain the hold it once had on TV…Thank heaven, then, the Derby
is back." Then there were stories by Newsweek, Entertainment
Tonight, Associated Press, Gannett, the ABC Evening News, NPR…
TNN’s
head of publicity, Rosemary O’Brien—a Cosby Show veteran—is
both elated and amazed; how often does a new cable TV show get overwhelmed
by free publicity? "This kind of a project comes along so rarely—you
feel it, you know it’s something special," she says with sincerity.
But
audiences haven’t entirely agreed. At first, the show debuted with
great ratings for a cable program. According to Nielsen Media Research
figures, RollerJam’s January 15, 8 p.m. debut drew more than
2.9 million viewers; in comparison, the number-one rated basic cable show
for Jan. 11 through 17 was TNT’s World Championship Wrestling with
4.4 million viewers. Since then, the numbers have dropped quite a bit;
by the end of ’99, ratings hovered just under a 1.0 rating (less
than a million viewers). Nevertheless, RollerJam has certainly
been delivering a demographic new to TNN: youth. Since adding RollerJam
last January, TNN says its teen viewership is up 149 percent on Friday
nights and its young male audience is up 29 percent in the same time slot,
according to Nielsen data. The network is bolstering this youthful surge
by programming the even more outrageous Extreme Championship Wrestling
as RollerJam’s lead-in (probably more appropriate fare than
previous lead-in, The Waltons).
"I
think that this show really tapped into a bit of nostalgia—the simplicity
of the game remained unchanged, yet the look of it and the characters
were updated for this generation," says Land. "And this seemed
to click. I still think that we haven’t found the optimum balance
between showcasing the skaters’ personalities and stories with the
sheer sport and speed."
Indeed,
early shows were overlong—a single match lasted two hours; and despite
its simplicity, the game often confused viewers who didn’t understand
its rules. While strong skater personalities came through, they never
seem exploited enough, with trackside scenarios that didn’t quite
reach the dramatic heights (or even cleverness) of those trailblazed by
the WWF. Land says the tinkering will continue; but the addition of yet
more fighting and T&A has about it the whiff of desperation. (See
"Derby Jammed" for fan comments.)
Nevertheless,
after just one season, RollerJam has gained a lot of marketing
momentum, which is the lifeblood of nearly any entertainment product these
days. Land says there are nearly 50 product licensees who will be producing
everything from action figures to T-shirts; prominent sports game studio
Electronic Arts will be creating the video game. SFX, the largest live
event promoter in the country, took RollerJam out on the road in
a national tour. And Land reports that the show is now being distributed
to 30 countries.
Will
all these initiatives create a new generation of Roller Derby fans—or
will RollerJam end up in the pop culture dustbin along with Battle
of the Network Stars? Well, you might ask someone who’s been
there from the beginning…
Back
at the rink, the taping is over—the audience has shuffled out to
stand in line at the T2-3D ride, the DJ has stopped blasting dance tunes
over the P.A., and the exhausted players have headed back to the dressing
rooms. It all seems so unnaturally quiet after an afternoon of blood and
skating.
Standing
off to the side in a darkened corner, an old fellow with a cane stands
looking at the empty track, head cocked as if still listening to the audience
roar. Buddy Atkinson, Sr. started skating the Derby back in 1937. He ended
up spending the rest of his life as a skater—playing for the Philadelphia
Panthers, the Brooklyn Red Devils, the Chicago Westerners, even the famed
New York Chiefs. He skated for 20 years—first as a "home"
player then as a "visitor"—and then went into coaching
and training and managing teams.
"When
I started I was 126 pounds, a little short guy, and the skaters used to
beat the hell out of me," he says, eyes glinting. "And the people
all loved me then. But when I turned redshirt, man, they hated me–they
called me ‘the cry baby,’ ‘you dirty old man.’ But
you felt alive, and all the people knew you. Whether you were a villain
or not, they liked you."
Is
he happy to see the return of his livelihood, the sport that once captured
the nation’s fancy? He immediately dispenses any air of nostalgia.
"Oh
yeah," he says, "for my son, especially, and for Sean. Because
they were looking for something that’s gonna go—and I think
this thing’s gonna go big."
First Published:
January 28, 1999 • Metro Pulse
Related Websites:
Well, you'd think
that a cultish sport with such a fervent fanbase would have a number of
tribute sites. There are some out there, but I've yet to find one really
worth visiting. So the best source of information on Roller Derby is the
old-fashioned kind: a book. Keith Coppage's Roller Derby to Rollerjam
tells the full story in detail, with some great photos.
 
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