Sin City Rollergirl co-founder and co-captain Trish "the Dish" Ethier, right, blocks an opponent during a recent roller derby bout. Photos by Ralph Fountain. Ivy "Holly Caust" Reed keeps score during a bout between the Sin City Rollergirls and the Angel City Derby Girls. Sin City Rollergirls, wearing tiger-striped skirts, block their Los Angeles opponents during a recent bout. Since the league's creation in 2005, roller derby's popularity has increased, said co-founder and co-captain Trish Ethier. The Angel City Derby Girls strategize on the sidelines during a bout against the Sin City Rollergirls.

Waiting restlessly for the official start of her first roller derby bout, Makenna Jansen, 10, had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to see.

"Violence. A lot of violence," said the Goolsby Elementary School fifth-grader.

"That's the only reason she wanted to come," her best friend, Nathalie Smith, chimed in.

While it wasn't quite violence that Jansen and her friend witnessed during the meeting between the Sin City Rollergirls and the Angel City Derby Girls on a recent Saturday, it was a close approximation.

Wearing quad roller skates, short skirts, fishnet stockings and jerseys that bore their team name and their player names -- Ivanna S. Pankin, Trish the Dish and Alma Bichess, for the local team -- this retro brand of athlete took to their concrete track and demolished the visiting team, 221-70.

There were takedowns, wipeouts, hip checks and collisions that had the crowd of a hundred-plus groaning, laughing and gasping with delight and morbid glee. In other words, it was a typical night at the derby.

The mental image of women on skates is usually one of grace and beauty, but the Sin City Rollergirls have been rolling right over that idea since 2005, when Trish "the Dish" Ethier and Denise "Ivanna S. Pankin" Grimes started the first local league.

Since then, crowds have grown at the West Flamingo skate park, where the team has its home bouts and practices. As word has spread, so, too, has the public's interest, putting roller derby in Las Vegas on the brink of catching on.

"We're really trying to tap into the locals market," Ethier said. "We're kind of struggling in Las Vegas because there's so much to compete with. We have a good local following but we're begging for a venue."

The outdoor city park doesn't lend itself to strong ticket sales, because many onlookers simply watch the bout from behind the short fence and don't enter the gate, where the $12 entrance fee is collected. Audience members have to bring their own seats and stake out a patch of concrete on the edge of the track. That's great for visuals but places viewers at risk from wayward roller girls. This will change Nov. 18, when the team moves its bouts to Cashman Center, Ethier said. The venue change will mean an increase in ticket prices: $15 pre-sale and $17 at the door.

People often come out to a match expecting to see something along the lines of professional wrestling: scripted and kitschy. At its height of popularity and during its televised days of the '70s and '80s, roller derby was mostly staged, Ethier said. Fights were planned and choreographed, because that's what the audience wanted to see. But this version of roller derby is nothing like that.

"This isn't your mama's roller derby, first of all," said Ethier, adding that it's a full contact sport that her team plays to win.

In 2003, league co-founder and teammate Grimes started a league when she lived in Arizona, the second in the country. The two met when they played one another in Arizona, Ethier said. Last year, they decided to move to Las Vegas to launch another league, which would give them the flexibility to travel to other cities and play against the other 129 leagues in the world.

To date, they've traveled as far as North Carolina, and Canadian leagues are starting to venture into the States to play American teams, Ethier noted. The Sin City Rollergirls finished their first season with a 7-3 record; currently, they're 2-1.

Leagues consist of one or more teams; the Sin City Rollergirls league has one team, Neander Dolls. Last year, they started with eight girls, but they now have 30 of varying degrees of ability. Usually, 14 skaters travel to away games, and the roster depends on who has been practicing and who can get time off from work, Ethier said. It's an all-volunteer organization, from players to referees.

"Three years ago, we could never have dreamed or imagined it would grow like this," Ethier said, adding that the sport attracts not only young hipsters, but families and seniors, too.

The women who play it have changed, as well. Last year, the team consisted of mostly punk rockers who were into an alternative lifestyle. This year, more women are doing it for the actual sport and exercise, Ethier said.

Players' ages range from 21 to 47. The oldest team member, Judy Tweedy, 47, aka "Seemore Butts," started skating with the team in April.

"I knew it was physical, but it's definitely more physical than I thought it would be," she said.

She was serving as a referee for this game, because she took a shot in the season opener and was nursing bruised ribs.

Bouts are made up of lots of activity, insults, jokes and outrageousness. This is a sport where the crowd is encouraged to laugh at the athlete's misfortunes, so long as they can pop back up and continue skating. A highlight of this evening came when Alma Bichess fell and her skirt failed her. She ended up showing more of her rear end than planned.

For all the goofing off that players do between rounds, they are serious about scoring their points. Each team fields five roller girls. The scorer, called a jammer, skates behind the pack and attempts to pass the opponents while her teammates block for her. She receives one point for every opponent passed legally, meaning without touching others below the elbows or going out of bounds. That can result in a warning or time in a penalty box. The other team tries to prevent the jammer from passing. Three rounds make up a game, with each round lasting about 20 minutes. Fighting is not tolerated.

It looks like this: A tight pack of eight, slowly moving women skate together, looking furtively over their shoulders, while two skaters go as fast as they can around them. The women stumble, fall, land on each other. Hip checks send girls flying out of bounds and skidding to a stop on their hands and knees. Luckily, both are covered in padding.

It is not a sport for the dainty.

Local Ryan Weber caught a bout last season and enjoyed it. This time, he brought friends who had never been exposed to it.

"It's a lot more professional than I thought it would be," said Weber, a local photographer. "It's not the seedy thing of the '70s and it's got a sexy appeal to it."

The sport redefines femininity in a way, he added. The women are all shapes and sizes and there's a little something for everyone.

"I think that broad appeal is going to get more people out," Weber said. "And the names are great, too."