he entire building reverberates with a loud “THUD!” as Michelle Johnson bends her knees, swoops down low, and rams into her friend and teammate as fiercely as possible, sending her plummeting headfirst into the sidelines of North Tonawanda’s Rainbow Roller Rink. Each bystander looks over to see a tangled mess of fishnet stockings, short shorts, and bright, highlighter-colored helmets, and before anybody even thinks to ask, “Are you okay?” the two are back on their feet, skating towards the other girls now completing a circular lap around the rink. A shrill voice screams above the pulsating rock music, “GO! KEEP GOING! GO! GO!” as Johnson skates off to find her next victim of attack.

And this is just their practice.

These skaters belong to the Queen City Roller League, Buffalo’s own venture into the sport of roller derby. They have come a long way in two short years, boasting more than 60 members, four teams, and “bouts” (roller derby competitions) that pull in hundreds, if not thousands, of fans. It’s all part of the growing popularity of roller derby, a contact sport that reached its cultural zenith decades ago, but has recently seen a comeback in many parts of the country and in Europe. For anyone who has witnessed the rumble and tumble of these powerful, daring women, it’s not hard to see why.

Modern roller derby traces its roots to a businessman in the 1930s named Leo Seltzer who wanted to provide the American public a cheap way to forget about their Depression-era financial woes. According to The Washington Times, spectators paid a dime to watch as teams consisting of a man and woman raced to be the first to skate 4,000 miles, or 57,000 laps, around a banked track. Players switched on and off to rest from the hours-long task. Seltzer’s son took over the enterprise, which evolved into a full-contact sport and gained such popularity that during 1950s and 1960s, bouts were shown on more than 120 television stations.

Today’s roller derby has taken on an entirely new dimension, oftentimes even being referred to as “football on skates.” Two teams play on the rink per bout, and each is allowed five skaters: a pivot, an inside and outside blocker, a back blocker, and a jammer. The jammer is the only one allowed to score points. At the first whistle, everyone but the jammer skates around the circle. At the second, the jammer is allowed to break loose, where they must circle around once and then only score one point for each opponent passed on the second lap. Checking from the opposing team prevents the jammer from smoothly skating towards points. Any fan younger than 18 must stand back; the sport is so vicious that during bouts there is an age limit to those in the front row because of the risks of being taken out by wayward roller girls.

“It’s interesting because you play offense and defense at the same time,” said Mia Mauler (legal name Maria Manno, though she conceals that the best she can). “You have to love your own jammer, and get her through the pack, while trying to kill the other jammer. It’s the perfect game for anyone who is bipolar.”

Before its latest revival from obscurity, the sport is said to have reached its cultural peak with the 1972 Raquel Welch movie, Kansas City Bomber. Looking around the Rainbow Roller Rink, it’s hard to believe it’s not 1972 anymore. White walls with neon painted designs, fluorescent glowing lights, and multicolored carpeted floors all match the girls’ punky and vibrant style, but it is exactly this sense of retro flashback that roller derby girls universally embrace. It is not surprising, then, that this is where three Buffalo women who met on MySpace founded the Queen City Roller Girls and brought roller derby to Western New York.

43-year-old skater and self-proclaimed “rink rat” Mia Mauler was one of the first members of the newly formed league in 2006 and captains the Nickel City Knockouts with co-founder Sweet Pea. Referring to girls in the league only by their rink name, she says that initiators Sweet Pea, Flotorious, and Sissy Fit found each other online and knew they had to turn the idea of roller derby in Buffalo into a reality.

“It all started by word of mouth. After Sweet Pea, Flotorious, and Sissy Fit found each other on MySpace, they got on the internet, sent out emails, and did everything it took to gather people here on Wednesday nights for open skating,” said Mauler.

Since 2006, the Queen City Roller Girls have developed a devoted following that promises an enduring league for years to come. The league consists of four teams: the Nickel City Knockouts, the Devil Dollies, the Suicidal Saucies, and the Subzero Sirens. Each team follows roller derby regulations with 20 skaters on roster, except for the Subzero Sirens, the league’s newest, which only has four and is looking for recruits. Although the league is awaiting admission into the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association (WFTDA) to be granted travel team status, they are an “actual league” and are sanctioned by the WFTDA.

This new league followed a nationwide trend of roller derby resurrection, as there are now more than 135 established American leagues. Hollywood has taken notice, producing such sensations as the A&E Television Network reality show Rock ‘n’ Rollergirls in 2001 and several other award-winning documentaries such as Jam and Talk Derby to Me. The phenomenon has even crossed continental borders into Europe, where The Guardian reports that roller derby leagues have arisen in Germany, Sweden, and Britain.

Whereas the traditional roller derby girls of yesteryear were paid, professional athletes, today’s “Notorious VAG” and “Jocelyn Balls” are amateurs, many of whom hadn’t skated in years and are new to the realm of sports completely. The girls take it upon themselves to organize teams, equip themselves, and find a place to skate; only gaining the enjoyment of the sport as reward.

“This is my first year playing,” said Bump-Her Kar, or Karlene Hafemann. “You buy everything, pay dues, and provide yourself with all the necessary materials. It ends up being a very expensive sport.”

These unexpected fees, however, are a small price to pay for the empowerment that accompanies being able to defy the stereotype of the soft, nurturing female. Skaters are emboldened by the idea of playing a vicious, bone breaking sport while still looking and feeling feminine.

Bump-Her Kar, a recent UB graduate who now works for Planned Parenthood, has always had an interest in feminism and sees roller derby as a manifestation of the modern girl proving her inner strength and resilience.

“I’ve studied a lot about women’s rights and reproductive rights, and this sense of empowerment intrigued me. We are all strong women, because this is a very, very empowering sport,” said Bump-Her Kar. “Normally, when a girl displays signs of strength, it’s looked down upon. Here, no one will ever say, ‘you’re too aggressive to be a girl.’”

It’s not just the young that don skimpy outfits and embrace the part of themselves that like to kick ass, either. Brawl McCartney (a.k.a Kate Anderson), a former student adviser who now assists the Chair of Media Studies at UB, feels that roller derby has given her the fortitude to defend herself when necessary.

“I feel like if I have to, I could fight. I used to hear noises in the night and just freeze. Now I think about attacking whoever’s in the house. I usually warn them in my head, ‘get ready,’” said McCartney.

Although tales run rampant about the many fights and quarrels among more well-known leagues like the Queens of Pain and Manhattan Mayhem, the skaters of Queen City Roller Girls swear that the common bonds of punk attitude, athleticism, and camaraderie provide a coherency that even the most ferocious of bouts can’t undermine.

“Everybody’s on individual teams, but we’re all part of one league, and that’s understood. You don’t just help teammates, you help everyone,” said Violet Intentions, or Nicole Cavallaro, a secretary in UB’s English Department. “Every woman is amazing.”

It’s no surprise then that for many of the Queen City Roller Girls, the derby represents a lifestyle and an identity. With practice four times a week, ten months a year, the sport takes complete devotion of mind and body. Mia Mauler, recently voted best amateur athlete in Artvoice (the Queen City Roller Girls were voted favorite amateur sports team), boasts about a ten-inch tattoo of a blond-haired roller vixen on her shoulder as a symbol of her dedication to the sport.

“It’s definitely a life commitment. I’m a 43-year-old and I’m obsessed with it. When I get to the point where I don’t want to be bruised anymore, I’ll get involved with administration or become a referee,” said Mauler. She then points to a heavily pregnant woman passing by, and says that even she played loyally until a couple months ago.

In addition to her ink, Mauler also boasts a massive bruise, swollen dark black and blue, extending from her waist to her knee and reaching around her backside. It happened during January’s bout, and her MySpace profile tracks the progression of the seemingly lethal battle wound, which she has named Bernard. Although an annual boot camp teaches the skaters how to fall, and they must pass tests on the proper way to topple over before team recruitment, injuries are inevitable.

Last season, Mauler suffered a torn meniscus and faced damage to her ACL. Violet Intentions tweaked her knee, and Brawl McCartney endured massive bruises on her ribs and hip. Still, none of the girls doubt that it’s worth it.

McCartney sums up the powerful effects of roller derby on the human psyche. “Some people say that roller derby changes lives, and I would have to agree. Something very transformative happens when you learn to hit people as hard as you can.”