Valentine’s day is coming up, so I want to tell you the reasons why I love you. Because I don’t think Hallmark makes this particular card:
You’ve got my back. I know that If I get knocked out, you’ll knock out whoever knocked me out. You trap the weakest member of the other herd, just so I can score points faster. You scream at the top of your lungs, just so I know what’s coming behind me.
You take care of me. You carefully rub out my knots in the locker room. You give me your hand after you knock me on my ass at practice. You provide feminine products in an emergency. You make sure my bout eyeliner isn’t smudged, help me move after a break up, and you never let me dance alone at the after party. You make me laugh with your inappropriate remarks during cool down stretch.
You make me better. You’re the reason I haul myself and my gear all the way out to the rink/warehouse/airplane hangar/abandoned barn three days a week. Because I know you’re going to be there, working your butt off, I have no excuse not to show up. You don’t mind if I chase you during 27 in 5 but you pretend not to notice. You always have a twinkle in your eye when you yell “COME ON, YOU CAN HIT HARDER THAN THAT!” You watch all of the footage, and analyze why one team’s defense was more effective than the other’s. Then you make a FREAKING GOOGLE DOC analyzing different strategies by team. Respect.
You know me. You know that I’ll get snarky if I get sent to the box, but I’ll get over it by the time I get back to the bench. You know I like to take the inside to start the jam, so before the whistle blows, I can look you in the eye and tell you what I’m going to do without a sound. You’re waiting patiently for my offensive move before you make yours.
It’s true that we don’t agree on everything, and we don’t always have a lot in common. But once we gear up and we’re out on that track, all that matters is us, together as one, devastating the competition. And I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.
Love, Booty Quake.
PS: Are you more in the self-loving kind of mood this year? Check out my Love Letter to Derby Legs. MWAH.
[psst: photo courtesy of my best-loved skate shop, Rollergirl.ca with bad Photoshop extras by me!]