By Jon Fuccillo/The Torch
jonfuccillo@lcctorch.com
Not long ago, Christopher Wright thought he had a shot at playing basketball for LCC.
He didn’t even get to tryout. But the experience encouraged the 34-year-old graphic design major to pursue the non-traditional sport of roller derby.
Wright, a full-time student, has also been a full-fledged member of the Lane County Concussions for the past six months.
Once considered a female-dominated sport, roller derby is gaining popularity among men nationally and here in Eugene with the ever-growing Men’s Roller Derby Association.
Wright is one of two men with LCC ties, who has a passion for the game on skates.
He no longer dwells on the disappointment of not being able to try out for the college basketball team.
“Maybe the coach thought I was too old,” he says, with a broad grin.
“I’m just so glad that things worked out the way they did. It far eclipses anything that could have been.
After serving seven years in the Air Force, Wright says he felt something was lacking in his life. He missed the grind and competitive facet.
“In the military, there was a certain bonding,” he says. “Once I got out, I felt something was missing, and I felt lost. That brotherhood was missing.
Wright says he considers himself in a category of modern student-athletes when he pads his elbows and knees, puts on his wrist guards and mouth guard, straps on his helmet and laces up those size-13 skates.
After years of basketball, football, rugby, swimming, diving, soccer, track and field and wrestling, the 6-3, 272-pounder is more at ease than ever with organized sports.
“I’ve been playing sports since I was 6,” Wright says, with a hint of gentleness in his tune. “I’ve never been happier in a sport. It’s about the camaraderie. Here, it feels like a family. We take care of each other. It’s something bigger than yourself.”
Roller derby players traditionally bond after a match, or as they call it bout, gathering for food or laughs, or at a local pub. And the results are left on the flat track. “No matter the outcome, things are kept in context,” Wright says.
On the track, Mr. Nice Guy Christopher Wright is transformed into his alter ego, Daddy Danger. He gets the “Danger” part of his nickname from his 1-year-old son, Aiden Danger, who attends all of the Lane County Concussions’ bouts.
Make-believe names are a part of the roller-derby culture.
Wright’s enthusiasm for roller derby shows when he describes the nature and diversity of the sport.
“It doesn’t matter about your race, religion, sexual orientation, political affiliation or background,” he says. “There might be a weed-smoking hippie playing alongside a conservative pastor.”
That conservative pastor he’s referring to is his father, Robert, 54, who recently joined the squad. Robert Wright is still trying to come up with his roller-derby nickname.
Christopher Wright says the sport has no boundaries.
“Unlike other sports, it isn’t alpha-male dominated, and there isn’t any homophobia out there.” Wright says. “We completely support one another.”
The sport requires a commitment of time and exhausting practices that take place on Monday and Thursday nights.
According to Wright, it isn’t a sport to be taken lightly. He says many people have a misconception about whether the players are “real athletes.”
“It’s a real sport with real athletes,” Wright says. “First, you have to get over the shock of the entertainment.”
He doesn’t deny that the entertainment aspect is a big part of the game, we “we take it just as serious as any pro athletes,” he says.
Roller derby is a little like ice hockey-meets-football-meets-rugby – but on roller-skates. The men fly around, knocking down their opponents and weave in and out of traffic with a grace of balance. Each team battles to help its designated “jammer” get through the 10-skater pack. Points are awarded every time the “jammer” laps one of the other team’s players.
Wright says, as with anything in life, there are growing pains, which the Concussions are experiencing.
“We have our troubles,” Wright says. “But once the skates get strapped on, we’re done bickering. To me, it’s the perfect sports union.”
Family on skates.
Wright isn’t the only Concussions player with ties to LCC. Larry Reyes, 38 (aka Han Cholo), who went through the sterile processing technician program, has been with the Concussions since they formed about two years ago.
Like Wright, Reyes has family members involved with the game. His wife Amber (aka Dropkick Daisy), competes in the Emerald City Roller Girls league for the team Church of Sk8in. And his 12-year-old daughter Kayla (aka Tiny Badness) competes for the Emerald City Junior Gems, a league for girl’s ages 10 to 17 and an affiliate of ECRG.
Also, Reyes’ father-in-law, Dick Roche (aka Merby Dick), 72, is on the 14-man Concussions roster. Roche, who cut timber for 40 years, says he loves skating alongside his son-in-law. “I’m proud of my derby family,” says Roche.
After Reyes watched his wife and daughter competing, he decided to give the sport a shot.
“They were having a ton of fun hitting people, and laughing,” Reyes says, while taking a breather during practice last Thursday night at Willamalane Park and Recreation District in Springfield.
“I figured (we) might as well do it as a family,” Reyes says. “It’s a good outlet, and it gets real addictive. Some guys feel the itch if they don’t skate enough throughout the week.”
Reyes, like many who stumble upon roller derby, found himself a bit disconnected when he wasn’t playing and was only a spectator. Now he couldn’t ask for a better situation.
“He’s a derby husband,” Drivin says, of Reyes.
