Bedlam, Buttons, and Bricks: Eloise Inkwell Interviews Art Steelmoor

If there’s anyone who can bring a hint of order to the wonderful mess that is the Offbeat League, it’s Art Steelmoor. Known as the Silent Sentinel, Art’s quiet authority as referee keeps the Offbeat League from spiraling into complete bedlam. Today, I sat down with the steel gargoyle turned referee to address some burning questions following the recent Roller Derby bout between the Atlanta Nordic Walkers and the Berlin Wall BreakDancers—a game that left us all with raised eyebrows, dropped jaws, and, in few cases, a few actual dropped bricks.

Let’s get right into it, Art. There’s been a lot of chatter around the scoreboard. Did the Atlanta Nordic Walkers really… shall we say, "interfere" with the buttons in the booth? Few, if any, really saw all those points being scored.

Art pauses, his gaze as unyielding as ever, before answering.

The scoreboard, much like the rulebook, is an object of mystery. There were... anomalies. Points that appeared without a clear origin, and a certain amount of rhythmic leaning near the booth that might have involved buttons. I’m not pointing fingers although it's my specialty, but I will say that walking poles are not meant for pressing anything other than earth beneath them. Whether this was a deliberate strategy or simply an enthusiastic display of Nordic efficiency remains unclear. But should such incidents happen again, rest assured, measures will be put in place—perhaps a gargoyle or two overseeing the buttons.

And what about the "Brick Drop"? That seemed… unconventional, even for the Offbeat League. Is scattering Lego bricks across the track really within the rules?

Another pause. This one is longer, heavier, as though Art is weighing each brick in his mind.

The rulebook of the Offbeat League is, as most are aware, more a set of suggestions than definitive guidelines—and those suggestions are subject to change depending on the direction of the wind or, in this case, the trajectory of airborne bricks. Technically, there is no clause that explicitly forbids scattering Lego bricks. It falls under the purview of "unlisted obstructions," which is a gray area. The players were not harmed—beyond a few creative leaps and exaggerated tiptoes—and thus, within the current framework of absurdity, the Brick Drop stands. However, I have brought the matter to the League’s attention. We may soon see an amendment on "Non-Sporting Items Deployed as Obstacles". But since competitive Lego building is considered a sport, the bricks are, of course, classified as Sporting Items. My role is not to create the rules, but to interpret them, and for now, the interpretation allows room for bricks… albeit grudgingly.

It seems like this league is constantly testing the boundaries of chaos and order. How do you handle it all?

Art’s gaze shifts slightly, perhaps towards some distant perch on the Chrysler Building—or more likely the Berliner Fernsehturm, given that we're in Berlin.

The Offbeat League thrives on chaos. It’s a dance, albeit one where no one is quite sure of the steps, and sometimes the floor itself disappears beneath you. My job isn’t to erase the chaos—it’s to shape it. To hold it in place, even if only for a heartbeat, so the players can move through it with purpose. When the Brick Drop happened, I saw it for what it was: a manifestation of the League’s spirit. Unpredictable, a little bit painful, and certainly confusing—but also brilliant in its absurdity. My task is to let the brilliance shine through, without letting it tip into pure pandemonium.

Speaking of brilliance—or perhaps the lack thereof—the entrance music choice of the BreakDancers, David Hasselhoff's "Freedom". You have to admit, shouldn't that be considered illegal by now?

Art's ears seem to twitch slightly, as if closing off—whether it's to avoid the question or simply because the notes of the song are replaying in his head is anyone's guess.

The League Committee has indeed made some updates—actually, they were made during the game. David Hasselhoff's "Freedom" is now explicitly listed as a forbidden item—specifically, as a song that cannot be used for entrance music. It appears even the Committee agrees that there's a limit to the kind of brilliance we should endure, and this song has officially crossed that line.

Any final thoughts for the fans after such a controversial game?

Art closes his eyes briefly, as if gathering his thoughts, his steel form momentarily still against the backdrop of the bustling arena. He takes a deep breath—if gargoyles could breathe—and shifts slightly, as if adjusting to the weight of the question.

The Offbeat League isn’t about clear winners or perfect scores. It’s about the stories that unfold, the impossible moments that happen in between the rules. If you’re here looking for predictability—or 5 minutes of VAR checks—you’re in the wrong place. But if you’re here for the spectacle, for the joy of watching teams like the Walkers and BreakDancers clash in a world where even gravity might take a break—then you’re exactly where you need to be.

Well said, Art. Thank you for your time and for always standing tall—literally and metaphorically—amidst the mayhem.

Eloise Inkwell