Roller Derby: Albany All Stars vs. Green Mountain Roller Derby

By BradQuan Copeland on October 20, 2025

Recently, I stumbled into the opportunity to experience an event I’d only vaguely heard of in passing: roller derby. Located at the Washington Avenue Armory in Albany, I entered the facility bearing a childlike curiosity. After purchasing my $15 ticket, half of the proceeds benefitting a local women’s nonprofit, I entered the gymnasium and found myself thrust into a time warp, feeling as if I was at a high school sporting event in my late teens. Albany Patroons banners surrounded the pine-scented space as the fluorescent lights reflected from the ceiling onto the freshly buffed hardwood floor.

Lightly but thoroughly, I examined the perimeter and grabbed a seat midway through the right-side bleachers. It was there that I was able to settle my nerves into the calm before the storm. Anterior to me was the jumbotron displaying the teams, the Albany All Stars and the Green Mountain Roller Derby, and below that, I could see the pregame clock slowly trickling down. An eclectic playlist blared through the speakers as the skates hissed and rumbled across the floor. Echoes of sharp whistles cut through the air, encompassing the players’ warm-ups as they practiced their toe-stops and brake-checks.

The diversity of the players gelled with the free-spirited variety of the crowd as they glided in their multicolored helmets, mismatched outfits, skirts, tie-dye spandex shorts, glitter, and fishnet stockings, shouting underneath black and pink knee pads and striped crew socks. Some players wore makeup while others were bare. The individual creativity of their aesthetic was further highlighted by the comedic shock value of their names. Titles like CleanHer Wrass, Klitorisk, Cherry Pop, and Cyndy Licious painted a clear image that defied the domineering norm. This was deeper than a game. It was a community of punk rockers who relished the opportunity to flaunt their liberation. A cacophony of voices bounced from wall to wall as the players prepared to begin. The announcer’s voice pierced through the overhead speakers as the clock hit zero. It was showtime!

Broken up into two 30-minute periods with two-minute intervals scattered within, the players huddled like wolves and soon began to circle around the court like preying sharks as the blockers paved the way for the jammers to score points. There were five players on each team: four blockers and one jammer. The jammer, sporting a white star on their helmet, scores points by passing through the barricade of the opposing team’s blockers. The design of the game was a hybrid of hockey and rugby, with the unique physicality of sprinting bumper cars. This wasn’t about hurting people. Even if a play got a little too rough, the rolling tumble, like a log stomping the ground, was met with the extension of compassion and support. This was raw camaraderie coupled with competitive grit. I admired the laser-focused hunger and versatility of Di Tryin of the Albany All-Stars. As a blocker, she’d shoulder-check the opposition with a clean rock while possessing the solid stance of a formidable linebacker. And on offense, she’d zip the floor through the clutter with the vigor of Xena the Warrior Princess. Even from a vantage point, I could sense the heat of her spirit burning through those tiger-like eyes Apollo Creed worked to instill in the Italian Stallion in the third installment of Rocky. This was a sight to see!

Albany dominated the game early on, going up 28–0 out of the gate, and rested comfortably at 110–60 by the half. Green Mountain was no match for Albany’s cohesive force, as the blocking of the latter resembled Moses’s parting of the Red Sea, and through the divine pathway ripped the alternating roars of Albany’s elite jammers: The Real Slim Skatey and the cat-like elusiveness of their MVP Bizon, who swam the floor with the smoothness of a hot knife slicing through butter. But Green Mountain showed resilience as they swung to the very end. I was particularly impressed by the IQ of their jammer Nessquik, who found herself edged out by Albany’s hounding pursuit, managing to lift her leg as she turned the corner to avoid going out of bounds while scoring points for her team with time winding down. The level of balance possessed by these women was swan-like. After a while, I felt as if the game shifted to ballet on wheels. It was really f*&*ing cool!

The final score was Albany 190, Green Mountain 115, and following the announcement of her MVP crown, I had the pleasure of conversing with Albany’s own Bizon.

RRX: I wanted to ask you, so first off, what got you into roller derby?

Bizon: I really love the roller derby community. I played rugby in college, and some folks said I should try roller derby, and I fell in love with it. I had so many instant friends.

RRX: Rock and roll! Alright, what does roller derby grant you that everyday life doesn’t?

Bizon: The opportunity to be weird and have fun.

RRX: Okay, what would you say is the core driving force of the sport—power, control, or release?

Bizon: I think power, but I’ll put a spin on it. It’s the ability for people who didn’t have athletic backgrounds to be able to find their power. I was a theater kid growing up. I never pictured myself in sports, but the roller derby community will accept everyone, and there’s a place for everyone. So, I think it’s the power to be who you are and to find your own.

RRX: I like that. Okay, how has roller derby altered your perception of yourself and how others see you?

Bizon: Confidence. Roller derby has provided me with a lot of confidence because of people supporting me. I’m a first-year student in the school, and also I don’t think about how other people perceive me because I’m so focused on my team. So, I think that’s also what it gives me—I don’t care what other people think about me.

RRX: I like that. That’s real confidence. So, when you’re out there, what’s your mind rooted in? Is it chaos, serenity, or is this like meditation for you?

Bizon: My mind goes blank, which I love. I don’t worry about anything else; it just goes blank.

RRX: Like the blinders, almost like a racehorse, right?

Bizon: Yeah. If you ask me what happened on the track, I’m going to be like, ‘I don’t know.’

RRX: I completely understand. If you could describe the raw spirit of this in one word or feeling, what would it be?

Bizon: Regardless of what happens on the track, everyone is having a good time and everyone is stoked. If someone takes you out and hits you hard, or if you hit someone else really hard, they’re going to give you a hug. They’re going to give you a high five, which I love because we’re here to play a really clean, awesome game and have fun. And people really embody that spirit.

RRX: Absolutely. I love that so much. Thank you so much, Bizon.

Bizon: Yeah, thanks for coming out.

RRX: Absolutely. It was an absolute pleasure.

As the crowd slowly filtered out and the sound of wheels dulled, it dawned on me that roller derby transcends sport. It’s a grounded revolution on skates — a hazing cocktail of bruises, laughter, and true identity. It’s undeniable proof that power can be graceful and grit can be glorious.