This picture makes me laugh. The Battle Broads played the Circle City Socialites last Saturday, a team we actually beat last year. But what happened over the course of the year was something I wasn’t completely expecting at Saturday’s bout.
The Socialites had worked their butts off knowing they’d play us again this year. They wanted to win.
On our end, the Battle Broads got a whole new team of fresh meat with just a handful of us who have more than one game’s experience under our belt.
Needless to say, we were slaughtered. (Check out the evidence here.) We walked unknowingly into a bit of a grudge match, complete with smack talking and lots of fury from both ends. We found out later that our bout from last year is the reason they worked so hard to become a team to reckon with this year. They just had no idea that most of last year’s Battle Broads are this year’s SRG All Stars.
Milla Tyme and I, along with several of our girls who know how to put up a good fight, got one of the worst beatings of our lives partially because we were dishing it out in return. I’ve since learned I’ve torn either a muscle or a ligament in my left shoulder (and am thrilled it wasn’t more, like a serious rotator cuff injury that would require surgery) and I’ve pulled a muscle in my right thigh. Milla Tyme managed to bruise her forearm. Sweet Miss Treat looked like she got into a fight with a tiger. The list goes on. It wasn’t pretty.
In fact, I spent the vast majority of the bout blocking: something I never thought I was particularly good at, but what I know I need to work on in order to move up to the All Stars because the team is loaded with phenomenal jammers. Still, I managed to get about four or five jams in—one because Miss Kitty Rosenkill passed the jammer panty to me when she couldn’t break through the pack—and managed to score most of the points we earned in the bout. It mostly came down to the fact that I’ve played long enough to read the body language of girls and knew how to get through their blockers pretty easily.
So why does the picture make me laugh? For starters, before the bout, Milla Tyme turned to me and said, “I’m gunning for Best Blocker. You better bring it today.” That’s the kind of motivation I like!
Reason number two? My smile shows that despite being completely battered and beaten, it must have been obvious that I fought really freaking hard. I kind of felt like Tyler Durden in Fight Club, when he’s being punched relentlessly by Lou, taking the bloody punches and still laughing. That’s how we played.
The best part of this story came afterwards. Today, in fact. And it’s an example of how some things just fall unexpectedly into place, which is why you should roll with the punches and take what life hands you.
I headed to my chiropractor for my regular “please save me from myself” adjustment/”why do you do this to yourself” lecture, and an offhanded “I’ll soon be a personal trainer” comment has led to an interesting development. I’m not going to jinx it by talking about what exactly that means right now, partially because I don’t really know what’s going to happen. But it has me so completely excited that I’m trying not to puke all over my keyboard.
Good things are happening, kids. And best of all, I’ve got the scars to prove I’m truly alive.
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