While the rest of Newark slips into the quiet of a Monday night, one corner of town comes alive. It is 9 p.m., and under the shimmering disco lights of Christiana Skating Center, a gaggle of green-uniformed skaters lace up and prepare to bump elbows, shoulders, and, well, everything else. The rink, rimmed by pastel-hued lavender and green stripes, begins to fill with excited chatter while a nostalgic soundtrack pumps out tunes by Phil Collins and Paula Abdul.
It’s a scene that could easily be mistaken for a retro dance party. But as the hum of skates whizzing around the makeshift track grows louder, the vibe shifts from “Saturday Night Fever” to something more like “Fight Club” and an electric energy pervades the venue. This is the Diamond State Roller Derby (DSRD) team, a quirky gang of amateur athletes who are as nurturing as they are hard-hitting.
“There’s no way I’m going to come up to someone who is brand new and bulldoze them. They don’t learn that way. Yes, they need to learn what it’s like to take a big hit, [but] there’s an understanding. If not, those people don’t usually last very long. At least in this league, we really do look out for each other at different levels.”
Names of the game
The team gathers several nights a week to log laps, develop skating skills, and strategize, transforming the arena into a vibrant hub of athleticism, camaraderie, and inclusivity. Skaters zoom around the rink, their helmets adorned with stars or stripes to signify which players are jammers or pivots, and practice gets underway. By 10 p.m., they’re raring for a scrimmage.
Megan Navins, whose derby name is Pinkie Swear, recalls her introduction to the sport as both exhilarating and terrifying. “I was immediately enthralled by what I was seeing on the track,” she says. For her, roller derby was a way to find community after relocating to Wilmington.
“I had just moved, and I thought I needed to do something to meet people,” Navins explains. “I said, ‘If I don’t fall in my first session, I’ll come back.’ I eventually did fall, but I just kept getting back up.”
The cheeky, often humorous roller derby names are a cherished tradition, adding to the unique culture of the sport. Hysterika, Penny Shredful, Pebbles Flingstone, Slaytanic Panic, Pain Austen—each playful name tells a story, reflecting the skater’s personality or a memorable moment on the rink. “One of my favorite things when we play another team is seeing the other team’s names and thinking, ‘I love that name!’” Navins says with a smile. The monikers add a layer of character to the competitive edge.
Katie Wolfe, also known as Buffy Slammers, emphasizes the sport’s inclusive nature. “I felt really comfortable coming in and seeing people of all different ages, body types, and levels of athleticism. It’s a very welcoming community,” she says.
Wolfe was also looking for a group with a strong LGBTQ+ presence. “It’s a very queer sport for the most part as well, and I was looking [to join] a queer community. That really brought me in and helped me stay.” Her experience highlights how DSRD provides a haven for individuals seeking a diverse environment.
Beth Weaver, best known on the track as Annatazia, or Taze for short, found a new athletic niche in roller derby after her collegiate softball career ended. “I felt like my identity was gone,” she admits. Her “competitive itch” led her to the rink, where she balances being a mother of two and a fierce contender. “There is more to me than just being a mom or a friend,” she asserts. Derby not only offers an outlet for her athletic drive but also provides a space for individual expression.
Physical fitness is, of course, a cornerstone of the fast-paced, full-contact sport, with both stamina and strength being crucial. Bouts, or games, are played on an oval track where teams compete to score points by lapping opponents. Each team has a jammer who tries to pass through a pack of blockers from both teams, while the blockers aim to stop the opposing jammer and assist their own.

The game combines strategy, speed, and physicality, making for an exhilarating spectacle. “We focus heavily on endurance,” Navins notes. “Skating two minutes in a jam might not sound like much, but it’s a sprint. And at the same time, you’re hitting and getting hit. It is very physical.”
Weaver doesn’t sugarcoat the bodily demand. “You need core strength, strong quads and glutes. You have to be able to take a hit and give a hit. It’s all about balance and power,” she says.
Veterans do, however, typically extend courtesy to newbies. “There’s no way I’m going to come up to someone who is brand new and bulldoze them. They don’t learn that way,” Weaver says. “Yes, they need to learn what it’s like to take a big hit, [but] there’s an understanding. If not, those people don’t usually last very long. At least in this league, we really do look out for each other at different levels.”
Training the ‘skater tots’
The rigorous practices, which focus on skating endurance and hitting techniques, ensure that skaters are in peak physical condition. “It’s one of the best forms of exercise I have ever had in my entire life,” Navins notes, adding that her physical fitness has increased “tenfold.”
Holly Rodriguez-Gears, who goes by Olive Time and Space, coaches the newest members, affectionately referred to as “skater tots.” (When the tots graduate, they become small fries, and seasoned vets are called baked potatoes.) No prior skating experience is necessary, and the 12- to 16-week training program covers all the basics. Throughout their course, tots learn about different positions, how to fall, how to play together, and how to play separately.
To be fair, the risk of injury is real, even with proper training. “I’ve broken both ankles, torn my PCL twice, and torn the meniscus in three places in one leg,” Rodriguez-Gears admits. “Some days I wake up and think after 13 years I’d be good at this thing, but it doesn’t matter because I love it. We play competitively, but because we don’t have huge aspirations, there’s no pressure.”
The Marshallton, Pennsylvania, resident, whose highlight reel includes meeting her husband through the sport, underscores derby’s accessibility. “People who are not at their ideal weight or who are 20 years past their prime can come and hang out. If you want to do the thing, we’ve got a place for you.” This philosophy ensures that anyone, regardless of their background or experience, can participate.
“Some days I wake up and think after 13 years I’d be good at this thing, but it doesn’t matter because I love it. We play competitively, but because we don’t have huge aspirations, there’s no pressure.”
Head coach Kelly Reeves, aka Kelly Krueger—a nod to her obsession with “Nightmare on Elm Street”—discovered roller derby through a friend and quickly fell for its distinctive blend of aggression and sportsmanship. “I’m not a big sports person, but there was something about watching really strong people, who happen to be women, giving it their all,” she recalls. As a single mother, she felt the sport provided not just an escape but a source of empowerment and strength.
Over the years, DSRD has shown that pivoting is more than just a game-time skill. In 2019, the squad changed their former name, Diamond State Roller Girls, to Diamond State Roller Derby, inviting all genders to the rink. In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic shuttered the league for over a year. “Some people were comfortable skating outside, but some hadn’t put their skates on in a year and a half. It was like starting new again,” Navins recalls. “When we came back, our team’s main focus was getting in shape again.” And bounce back they did.
The community’s spirit and prowess are now stronger than ever, with members supporting one another through injuries and setbacks. “I was pretty lost after college,” Weaver reflects. “Roller derby gave me a new sense of purpose. I am so grateful that I can still have a community of people who want to get better at a sport and who are also just the most supportive, loving, and inclusive.”
Back at Christiana Skating Center, the atmosphere is buzzing with energy. Coach Krueger, sporting bright, cobalt blue hair, shouts instructions as skaters whirl by. The jammers, with stars on their helmets, weave through blockers, while pivots with stripes strategize their next moves. As one player describes, it’s “like squeezing through an air conditioner vent.” Each jam is a flurry of speed, skill, and tactical brilliance.
On the stereo, Phil Collins croons, “I can feel it coming in the air tonight,” and so, apparently, can everyone else. After each rough-and-tumble bout, skaters line up for another jam, embodying the resilience that defines this community. DSRD is clearly more than just a sport; it’s a lifestyle.
From irreverent derby names to diverse backgrounds, the team embodies inclusivity, fitness, and unyielding support, inviting prospective teammates of all genders, body types, and backgrounds to join the fun. Here, all are welcome, and everyone finds their place.
“We come from all different walks of life. We have teachers, scientists, nurses, professors, a librarian, moms, dog moms, and cat moms,” says Navins. “When you spend two to three days a week together, it quickly becomes family. Anytime I’ve ever needed anything, someone’s always been there to help.”
Related: 4 Up-and-Coming Golf Amateurs in and Around Delaware