The Summerland Rollerdrome
Many a Manx (old) millennial will remember this favourite haunt.
Best hour of your life on a Friday night. Sweaty skates, decking your mates, adolescent kisses (every time for me).
If you were lucky enough you’d uncontrollably skate into a group of girls and ‘accidentally’ grab onto a boob to ‘stabilise’.
On this occasion, lady luck wasn’t shining on me as I ploughed into a group of hard lads from Willaston. My head coming to rest in the crotch of the alpha hard lad. There’s pulsing in my ear, is it my heart, or something more disturbing emanating from the ‘Alpha’.
When I regain my senses, I quickly rise to my feet. I skate away, apologising and gesticulating at “my sh*t stoppers” for letting me down. I need an exit strategy or this could turn ugly.
“Ronnie! Fancy a game of Track & Field; you can do the jumps” I cry.
Before the ‘Massif’ can catch me, we’re escaping to the sanctuary of the arcade upstairs.
“Ronnie, it doesn’t matter how fast I go, if you don’t hit 45° we won’t get on the leaderboard.”
“By the way, did you see me deck that hard lad from Willaston”
Send us in your memories of Summerland and your experience at the Rollerdrome. More features on The Summerland Series coming soon.