When I moved to Bismarck, I joined a roller derby team. I wanted something active to do indoors in the winter; something other than looking outside and shivering. I spent the first 12 weeks learning how to skate, stop, run on my toe stops and weave around cones. Then I graduated to the team and started getting body checked to the floor. Around this time, it was decided I needed a roller derby name. So I put it out on Facebook.
I got a lot of suggestions.
Some were ripped directly from the oil industry. Flare stack. Tight Hole. One friend suggested I dress in drag and be “Derrick.”
Others were good puns, but not really good names to print on a jersey. Frack check her. Hit-u-men. Crude awakening.
Some were too obvious. Slick chick. Frack My Life.
Flarin’ Guerin was a semi-finalist, but felt too close to my real name. I loved Baby Got Bakken, but a friend from Maine said it wouldn’t make sense to derby girls in non-energy states.
Ultimately, I settled on one that’s got everything a roller derby name needs: a grandmotherly female name, a sneaky innuendo, and the oil and gas shout-out.
Fanny Fracker.
