Julia Clifton, neé Cotton, once busted up the left wing of her collarbone so badly that the rigid sinew, responsible for holding her neck and shoulders in a place of stability, never properly healed. The bone juts out at an awkward, uncomfortable-looking angle; it's eery to behold and even most shocking to touch. I know this because Clifton, sometimes known as Julie Cotton-Fire, invites me to run a set of timid fingers over the years-old injury. Lo and behold, there's an abhorrent bump present where a buttery, flat surface should persist, and I recoil in barely suppressed horror.

"It's supposed to be smooth, and that's like two years ago that that happened," she said. "They don't do surgery on them; mine was pretty typically slow to heal, the way that it was hanging and separated like that. Eventually, it made like a groove - one bone sitting on top of the other. That was pretty traumatic for me."

Described here is a scene that sounds like it could've come forth from an outtake on a particularly gory Mel Gibson film. (Released pre-racist meltdown, naturally.) In fact, what's being presented is so full of quick-paced action and deftly dramatic interplay that it could feasibly power the plot-lines of multiple cinematic endeavors. And last year, it fueled at least one - Drew Barrymore's directorial debut, the filmed-in-Detroit summer flick Whip It.

Yes, our discussion here centers not on warfare, but roller derby; roller derby in Mid-Michigan, to be exact. Although, when it comes to the hard-hitting ins and outs of the sport in question, differentiating between derby and modern war games can sometimes seem as complex as the splitting of hairs. (Or, as the situation frequently warrants in this case, bones.)

"My derby wife actually broke her ankle and had a plate inserted. A ref broke his ankle. I mean, it'll happen, but I think it happens with any sport where you're full-contact."

Upcoming Bouts Jack Town Rollers & Flint City Derby Girls Flint, Sept. 19 Mitten Mavens vs. Barry County Black Heart Maidens Demonstration Hall, MSU Campus Oct. 9, 7 p.m.

And she ought to know. As acting coach for the Lansing Derby Vixens, one of two Lansing derby teams to spring up within the past year, Clifton's derby experience extends back to a stint in Evansville, Ind., where she first learned to skate and cut her teeth with a team called Demolition City Roller Derby.

"I had a son at a young age and missed out on, I guess, the camaraderie I would have gotten in college," she says of what initially propelled her to try her hand at derby. "I wanted something a little more challenging, so I had heard we had roller derby. I already had it in my head that I wanted to get in shape, so I just decided that I wanted to try it. I didn't know whether I'd be good at it, and I wasn't really that good at it in the beginning."

In this regard, her experience is hardly unique. Indeed, moms of all stripes, backgrounds, and skill levels are eagerly strapping on skates and helmets (and, in the instance of Jackson's Jack Town Rollers, at least one grandma) to populate the Mid-Michigan derby teams in surprising abundance. It's interesting that women moving into middle age would actively choose to pursue a sport as brutal as roller derby, but then again, after the agony of childbirth, what's a few fractured vertebrae here and there?

But it isn't just the matronly adding a ferocious snarl to Mid-Michigan's derby darlings. One of the best things about this blossoming activity is the diverse and cultural makeup to be found within each compounded team's DNA structure.

"It's just nice to see such a variety of people out and interested in this new thing. I've gone to other bouts in Grand Rapids and Kalamazoo, and you have this stereotype image of what a derby person is like," says Micalee Sullivan, secretary and board member for the Mitten Mavens, a derby team also based in Lansing. "We're covered in tattoos and we have crazy hair, and they're just kind of punky-looking ... whatever stereotypes you have. But you know, you come to these bouts, and there's just like people of all ages."

Like the aforementioned Derby Vixens, the Mitten Mavens boast origins in a very grassroots and community-oriented genesis.

"There was a group of us that decided that we felt the best way to run a league was to be nonprofit, to have it be a membership run, nonprofit league, which means that everybody who's a member of our league has a say," said Sullivan, whose derby name is Hymen Executioner. "We're always holding votes for logos, uniforms, everything, so we really try to stay true to that."

Down in Jackson, the newly minted Jack Town Rollers has also tapped a wide range of experience and skill into its lineup. And in much the same manner as Lansing's Mavens and Vixens, the Rollers adhere to a strong community committed principle.

"I roller skated before and snowboarded - all the X-Games sports - so it kind of came natural. But with a lot of the girls here had never skated before," says Sarah "Bellum Crusher" Rand, league manager, coach, and founder of the Rollers.

"I hadn't skated since I was six years old at birthday parties," adds Bonnie "Barko" Mills, the league's co-manager.

When asked what the concept of roller derby brings to the Mid-Michigan landscape that perhaps no other single activity does, Mills responds with an impish grin upon her lips.

"Sisterhood! And I think a place where girls who felt like they hadn't really fit in anywhere else in other sports or societies or clubs, maybe they can find that in roller derby. We accept you as you are - it's just a come-as-you-are type of thing, and it's an acceptance kind of a sport. We just rely on each other emotionally and physically."

And thus, in this simple assessment, we have the very core and nexus of the Mid-Michigan roller derby collective. Bones may snap as easily as matchsticks, bruises may form in aching scarlet, fragile muscles will be tested and tried to their very limit, but in derby, these three teams have found a slab of earth upon which to call their own. Sisterhood prevails, friendships flourish, and roller derby dames of all creeds, colors, and cultures rule the rink with an iron skate.

"It depends on the girl's attitude," Mills said. "You have to go out there knowing you're going to do the best you absolutely can. It's all about attitude."