I am scary. Rwarrr!

Last night at practice I made a lady scream.

Why?

Because she thought I was going to hit her.

As it was, we were playing around with a bit of blocking, I was just going to give her a little nudge, maybe put a bit of pressure on her and steer her out of bounds. It seems, since I was sliding right at her with a grim look on my face (my only derby look as of yet) it, mistakenly, appeared as if I was about to launch my whole self at her and nail her ass to the floor.

I'd be okay with that, but it wasn't my intention.

No matter my motivates, the scream was like a flotation device for my drowning derby ego.

I am scary. Yes!   

Rwarrr!

Of course, after chickie unleashed her super sonic, ear drum busting shriek of death, I did feel like hitting her.  Instead of gently pushing her out of bounds, I did a freaky little nervous jump to the opposite side and yelled back, "What the fuck was that about?!" 

She scared me back.  Crap!

I am going to mention now that the screamer's name is Banshee Barbrawler, a quickly progressing freshie, and I'm now thinking that the scream is going to be one amazing secret weapon when she gets to bouting.


The banshee's scream foretells your death!  Beware the cry of the banshee!

Of course, she's sort of got the wrong side of the stick right now, having the scream come before she gets hit rather than right before she nails some other bitch, but, hey, this is why we have practice, right?  She's the banshee, I'm sure she'll get her shlick together soon enough.

All I know is that I am adding ear plugs to my skate bag as necessary protective equipment.

Still, if I die tonight, Banshee Barbrawler has some explaining to do.