Wednesday, June 27, 2007

them toes

Before I say anything else, the following post is to be in no way misconstrued as a comparison to any real injury earned in the actual bout. Yes, you are getting another post that is in some way derby related, but I really have to reiterate the whole not comparing thing. I'm not including bruise or contusion pictures, because this post isn't about that, and I don't have any.

I do have some toe issues though that are related to the bout. This was my first time as an announcer for the league. For the most part I did team and skater intros, I introduced the refs and tried to do a reasonable play by play. I exhorted our fans to cheer louder and audibly swooned over the soul crushing hits our team dealt out.

My toe problem is related to both the shoes I was wearing and the physical stance I take when actively observing a roller derby bout. I tend to squat on one leg, a position that is not quite standing or sitting but leaves me in a position from which I can easily stand to shout encouragement or even to leap into the air with joy when our jammer makes that move past the opposition's pivot, faking a quick step before ducking to the inside and hitting the power as she skates away, hands raised high in the devil horns.

And here is where we come to the shoes. They are some absolutely sweet shoes, black and white wing tips, a good bit clunky, and they even sport a steel toe, for whatever the hell that gets me these days. Steel toes on me are nothing more than added weight. The shoes get really uncomfortable after an evening of being out, so I tend to reserve them for those random nights that we actually have an all night baby sitter and it's worth getting dressed up.

Getting to cheer on the league that much louder is certainly a worthy event, and that they match the team's black and white motif makes it that much harder not to wear them. However, combining them and the squatting stance, I've temporarily fucked my foot up. I've almost convinced myself that it's the shoes fault and not that I squat like an idiot on one foot. At the same time I'm sure it's not the shoe's fault.

Monday morning I woke none the worse for wear except that the toes on my squatting-on foot felt numbish. They'd bothered me throughout the bout, mostly in the breaks between periods when I climbed down from my perch and walked around, and I knew it was from the squat or maybe the shoes, but I assumed it was just a thing, too long in one odd position kind of thing.

That does happen to me, but it's because I squat, and it's never something I don't just walk off. I do it outside smoking sometimes too. I don't really think about doing it, and it's weird to occasionally realize you've bypassed a perfectly good chair in order to squat on your haunches.

I may just have to stand up when I do the announcing, but at the rink we currently use, the place I have to be is just this crazy perch in the air where I'm just standing like a dancer in a cage without the cage part. There are people crowded all around it to the point where I almost feel like putting up a sign that reads "servers only." Maybe it just feels weird that I have absolutely no separation beyond height from the people I'm talking too. It bears thinking about I'm sure. Maybe it's looking down and realizing I'm standing in someone's face.

The toes don't hurt. They're actually a sort of numbish, asleepish feeling. I can feel the feeling coming back into them with each day, but I also feel that I need to rethink those shoes. I really never thought I'd be concerned with the price of beauty, and in many ways I really feel I should be able to be above it. But you should see those shoes. And that leads me to think I should just wear the shoes. Who really needs to squat anyway? We're evolved past squatting. Hell, we've evolved to the point where our women can pit themselves against each other in feats of strength and speed combined. The least I can do is look good for them.

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