Girl Power

Spectators: The place was filled with an eclectic array of tattoos, patched jackets, pierced faces, fishnets, pleather, and fetish wear as people turned out to drink cold beer, slurp down cheese fries, and cheer shamelessly for their favorite roller girls. Even the kids came out: The young son of Ree King Havoc (number 506 on Indian River) wore a T-shirt printed with "My Mom Rocks" on the front and derby girls' signatures scrawled everywhere else.

Michael wore glasses, his hair in a messy ponytail, and a shirt that read: "a man of quality isn't threatened by women for equality." He told me he had come to work as a volunteer scoreboard technician and to root for his girlfriend, Dottie Gigglesmash.

"Do you like your girlfriend doing roller derby?" I asked.

"Yeah, it gives her a hobby," he said. "And something other than me to take her anger out on."

The games ended and the rink cleared out around 11 p.m. Neighboring Chrome Bar hosted a block party afterward — it consisted of roller girls and spectators drinking in the street and listening to loud music. Bruises, bumps, and snarls all melted away under the glorious haze of alcohol in a sweaty aftermath of feminine bonding. Girls on different teams mingled, nursed their wounds, and poured beer down their dehydrated throats. How's that for stress relief? Not a bad end to a night of organized and team-oriented catfighting.